Creating Mojo: The Chant as Poetic Form

I haven't taken a poll and I can't prove it, but I believe that many, if not most, creatives are spiritual people. They are certainly as superstitious as baseball players. Just ask yourself if you have a ritual involved when getting ready to write. A lot of you may not even notice.

"Okay, instrumental music on low volume; lamp with mardi gras beads hanging from it lit; glass of wine or cup of coffee in place; tiny carved jade Alaskan storytellers my sister gave me standing on window ledge above computer; candle burning. Ready, set, go!"

It's funny, but something about having your mojo on helps when it's time to get down to the work of creating. Whatever rituals we perform...whatever words we repeat...whatever time of day our hearts or spirits are most open...that is when the moment is ripe and the Muse beckons us to the creative chapel. Refuse her at your peril. She wants us to keep our dates, and hates being stood up. This is easy enough to find out for yourself.

Perhaps a chant to help us get started...Now this sounds like something the Muse would really like. An enticement, so to speak, to bring her close. Start loud and lower your voice to a whisper. Force her to draw near to hear the final words, and make them worth the effort. Not all our hoodoo has to be visual, is all I'm saying. We could try writing and reading, or chanting it.

A chant is a poem of no fixed form, intended for reading aloud, with certain words or phrases meant to be repeated over and over. This form is prehistoric, folks, so something about it must work, right? The rhythm of the repetition forms a musical beat. Blues songs, slave songs, prison work songs all draw on this ancient form. The chant was revived in the 1960's by poets like Anne Waldman and Diane Wakoski.

To write a chant, it helps to come up with a good, musical line you want to repeat; that's the key to the poem. What next? Well, remember that the chant form has an openness and spontaneity you won't find in a sonnet, so go crazy. Stir in some magic. Get spiritual, then physical. Whirl and twirl around your creative space. Chant in that crazy Muse--she loves being courted and called. Besides, it's fun, and fun opens us to creativity. Once she gets there, open the door, invite her in, make her sit close, very close.

Thinking About John Lennon's "Let It Be," I Call Marie

Sunny Sundays mean, for some, to go to church or pray or run

while I invite my Muse, Marie, to write with me and have some fun.

Come on Marie, I call on thee; for thee and me and we alone

will set creative spirits free.

In a funk with chores to do, I don't want to play with you

or anyone. I won't create, allow for fun.

Come on Marie, I call on thee; for thee and me and we alone

will set my sullen spirit free.

There's Tom, then Mom, then Honey Lee

all waiting for replies from me, but I really hate the phone

it eats my writing time, my poems.

Oh, sweet Marie, I'm begging thee; for thee and me and we alone

refuse all calls; write poetry...

...for thee and me and we alone,

come close Marie, sit down with me.

Try this at home, and remember, chants started out pagan and stayed long. By the time you finish chanting, you'll be quite content to sit and write quietly.