Pocket Papers Thoughts About Poetry: Just Sayin'

Death of an Icon: The Burma Shave Signs

I fear that an important American poetic icon may be fading from out collective memory.  As a child in the late '50s and early '60s, the Papes would pack the family station wagon and head West, every summer, to quench my father's hunger for rivers, mountains and a way to burs through the sedate walls of the suburban dream.  Along the way, rolling forward on the gently undulating asphalt, we would encounter THE BURMA SHAVE SIGNS.  It was always a thrill, like finding the next clue in a scavenger hunt.

The Burma Shave signs were an advertising gimmic liberally peppering the vast American landscape.  As you drove, someone would spot a small neatly lettered sign with the first line of a simple, rhyming poem.  A little further up the road would be a sign with the second line, then the third, then the fourth and finally the name of the proud sponsor, Burma Shave.  Most touted the sex appeal that this manly shaving cream would bring to every lucky man who tried it (Before I tried it/the kisses I missed/but afterward-- boy!/the misses I kissed!/Burma Shave).  Some promoted safety (On curves ahead/remember, sonny/that rabbit's foot/didn't save the bunny/Burma Shave).  Some simply bragged (You've laughed at our signs/for many a mile/Be a sport/Give us a trial/Burma Shave).

What's so important?  In many cases, these poems were the first and perhaps only, exposure to poetry for many Americans.  Were the poems great?  Hardly -- more like jingles than poems, really.  Calling them "light verse" would be generous.  Yet the magic and the excitement associated with encountering the potential for cleverness and fun in the written word, at a time when you were roaring toward the unexpected and unknown, giddy with adventure, created a powerful folk icon that helped many people simply get comfortable with the idea that rhyme and language could provide you with something you didn't mind having along for the ride.

More than Mother Goose.  More than my first encounter with that "man from Nantucket."  Burma Shave sparked my interest in rhyme.

This morning I woke up with what I thought was a simply swell idea for a series of posts on Facebook, in the form of a series of Burma Shave signs, that drew on the fact that what you posted LAST would show up at the TOP of the Face Book Page.  Here it is:

Using FB like a Burma Shave sign/has crossed all the wires in my head./The order in which I come up with each line/is reverse of the way they'll be read.

OK.  Not brilliant, but worth a chuckle.  And then a discomforting thought occurred to me.  "Would the typical user of Facebook even remember what a Burma Shave sign was?  Would they ever have even heard of such a thing???"

The short answer is, "Not likely."  I asked approximately 30 people if they knew about Burma Shave, and of the 30 only 3 had any idea what I was talking about.  So I did what any modern man would do... I Googled it.  And the most conspicuous site that came up was tagged "Burma Shave Signs -- Fun for Senior Citizens." 

Damn.  Even the roots turn to dust when they've been buried too long in dry earth.  I'm going to post that sucker anyway...

A few personal beliefs about the art of poetry:

· I write my poetry as A FORM OF COMMUNICATION (i.e., connection) with others.  To those who say, "I really only write for myself," I say, "Great.  Useful.  But keep it in your bathroom.  Don't put it out in front of others..."

· Because 25 years in the business world has convinced me that communication is the single most difficult thing people do on a day-to-day basis, I believe poems should be kept SIMPLE AND STRAIGHTFORWARD.  As a general rule, accessibility is good.  Big words not so good for me...

· I believe a poem should be a very PRACTICAL and useful thing.  I resent the dictatorship of Academia over poetry.  A poem should be out in the world, a tool for "the regular Judy and Joe."  A poem should smell like WD-40.  Construction workers should pull poems from their pockets when they need a little pick-me-up or a brief moment of clarity.

· HUMOR is often a good way to invite the reader into the poem.  (My challenge is often that my humor likes to tip toward filth.)

· RUN FROM THE CLEVER!  I can be clever, which is a problem.  When any artists is overly clever their art becomes egomaniacal because their audience is merely thinking, "Oh! What a clever person," rather than, "Oh! That touched me!" or "Oh! That made me think!" or "Oh! I never saw macaroni that way!"

I have often argued many of these points with poets I respect.  I'd love to hear your thoughts...

Comments

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Let's see:

* Communication - of course. When people say "I really only write for myself" it's almost always a hedge against being rejected. Still I've read/heard some pretty awesome stuff from shy people who only claim to write for themselves so let's not be too fierce about this.

* Simple and StraightForward. Almost always, YES. After the recent Leonard Cohen concert my daughter Zoe and I were repeating/discussing powerful phrases from his songs that were whittled down to bare essence. Simple words and powerful sequencing. Takes talent, work, and time to achieve this wisdom.

* Practical - I see where you're coming from with this and it's refreshing. But it's also myopic in its own way. "Dictatorship of Academia" is a poweful indictment and undoubtedly true in many many ways. I just can't roll with "A poem should smell like WD-40". Cool if it does but smacks too much of definitive rule making when talking about creating art. Never know when something is going to break your rules and knock you out.

* Humor! Indeed. How do we get by w/o humor. I assume you add this because there isn't enough. Hell, there's never enough humor to satisfy me. I can almost laugh at anthing. On the other hand, I LOVE sadness when it speaks in a true way. Just looking for a balance.

* Run from the clever! I get your point. Cleverness as the only point can make me surly. But few can be truly clever in the service of art so let's not run w/o checking it out, eh?

I enjoyed your little manifesto. It says things that need to be said. To me, like most sets of rules, this is something to get under your belt but shouldn't keep you from breaking out when called. Cheers!

Posted by: Michael Derning | 07/19/2009 at 03:06 PM

Michael --

Thanks for your response. I have very little disagreement with your points, especially in that I too believe a "manifesto" is a set of statements designed to remind me of the things that make sense to me at a core level -- useful when I begin to stray and sail off course (which, thank God, I do on a regular basis). It is NOT a set of rules never meant to be broken.

Re: Communication. I would urge those talented shy people to step, at least timidly, out of their shells and consciously view what they write as form of connection with "the other." As a reader, I'm not totally comfortable or satisfied being a Peeping Tom. Edward Hirsch does a nice job with this issue in his book HOW TO READ A POEM AND FALL IN LOVE WITH POETRY, in his first chapter, "Message in a Bottle." Although, I will admit, there are likely to be times when you catch some interesting views peering into someone else's bathroom window...

Re: Simplicity. This is merely a preference of mine. I'm not all that big on symbolism. I satisfy my urge for puzzling with the Sunday crossword.

Re: Cleverness. I had to include that comment because being too clever for my own good is a great weakness of mine. (Isn't that a clever thing to say?)

Re: WD40. All I mean is poetry should have a purpose, although that purpose can come in literally millions of variations. And I love the smell of WD40. I want my pecan pie and sofa cushions to smell like WD40.

Thanks again.

Posted by: GIPape | 07/28/2009 at 11:37 AM