
Carmen Giménez’s poem “Ars Poetica” is a stunning waterfall of words, a torrent of dozens of short statements that begin with “I” or “I’m.” As you listen to them, let an answering cascade of questions fill up your mind. What does this series of confessions reveal to you about poetry? The poet? And yourself?
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Padre Goatuma
Friends, I am delighted to let you know that I've got two books that are out now. 44 poems on being with each Other is a collection of 44 essays accompanying other people's poems. It's a poetry unbound collection. There's poems from Jericho Brown and Mary Oliver and Lucille Clifton in there, and a collection of my own poems, Kitchen Hymns, is also out. You can get them wherever books are sold and you can find out more information@poetryunbound.org thanks very much. My name is Padre Goatuma and I started writing poetry when I was 11 and I wrote it the whole way throughout my teenage years. And then I got really involved in religion when I was 18 and I didn't write poems for a few years and it was like they were building in me, like some kind of explosion. And a few years later I had a diary that had no lines in it and I filled the whole thing up in six months with poem after poem and there was one that I really couldn't quite say where it came from. It started off with it appeals very much to the passionate in me. I've lost that poem now. I don't know where it is. But I knew even as I wrote it that this was a poem about poetry in me. A poem about being pursued by poetry, about wanting it, about resenting it, about resisting it, and about how even if I found it difficult to write, I had to write it because otherwise it would just build and build and build on me. Ars Poetica by Carmen Jimenez I'm ill, I'm federal, I'm on leave, I'm a child of refuge, I'm holy, I'm a shit, I'm desperate, I won't tell you anything, I'm first gen, I'm Gen X, I'm tied up, I'm bipolar, I'm not fertile, I'm a secret, I'm the now, I'm indifferent, I'm a disgrace, I'm funny, I'm assistance, I'm not saved, I was Mormon, I'm atheist, I'm mysterious, I'm scared, I'm head of household, I'm quick tempered, I'm day job, I'm night ghost, I'm failure, I act white, I live bankrolled, I'm deliverable, I'm not gang, I'm crazy ex, I'm slippery, I'm post, post post, I'm greedy, I'm double crossing, I'm delusional, I'm above average bmi, I'm hairy, I'm indebted, I'm weak, I'm non confrontational. I'm in therapy. I'm sorry. I'm empowered. I don't have a tattoo, I don't have money. I have too many ex friends. I'm agoraphobic. I'm recorder. I have a valid passport. I've never been arrested. I should have been arrested. I know too much. I can barely read at times. I can barely rise at times. I'm gay, I'm marginally fit. I'm arthritic, I'm flaky, I have few skills. I'm salty, I'm a time bomb. I'm baptized, I'm dry, I'm chronic pain, I'm big at mom's house. I can't remember how many. I am obstructionist. I'm a master. That was my confessional, thank you very much. So this poem by Carmen Jimenez is titled Ars Poetica. And that's a title of loads of poems that are about poetry. It comes from ancient Roman poetry. There was a Roman poet known as Horace, and he had a letter poem that was an introduction to the art of poetry. And so these days, people write in Ars Poetica. It's a bit of a throwback to him, a bit of a throw into what it's like to write about writing and to write a poem about poetry. So there's such irony in this brilliant poem from Carmen Jimenez, because it's a poem about poetry, but it's filled with the word I. I'm this, I'm that, I'm this, I am, I'm not, I do, I don't. And so in many ways, it's confronting the space between whose is the speaking voice of the poem, and then what that saying about the broader project and human repetition of the art of poetry, because it occurs in every human culture. And there's space really between the eye of the speaking voice and the eye of the poet, and then the eye of whoever it is that's reading it, whether you're reading it aloud like I did, or you're reading it quietly to yourself. And then what that says about the endeavor of poetry. Carmen Jimenez is using this poem to speak about Ars poetica, to be a declaration of some speaking voice. But also in the last line, that was my confessional, thank you very much. Confessional is a term that kind of, since the 1950s, has been around for a certain kind of poetry. Some people like the term. Some people say that the term is a bit derogatory. Confessional poetry, technically, is the kind of poetry that explores somebody who's exploring parts of their Autobiography. And people who critique confessional poetry would say, oh, you're just doing your therapy on paper. And others would say, no, I mean, that's human nature. It's a nature poem about the human side. So therefore, all of this is trying to put forward versions of an eye that might not even be representative of the individual. It might be something broader, or you might be putting a caricature across or representing some kind of character. One of the things about confessional poetry is that it can, in a certain sense, have a challenge to the reader to think, do I like this speaking voice? Do I agree with the speaking voice? Does this speaking voice speak for me? And that's what's so interesting about what Carmen Jimenez told us in all of these statements. What we realize is that the accumulation of them almost overloads you, and you know pretty much nothing about the person by the end, even though they've said all of these things about what they are. I'm holy, I'm gen X. I'm agoraphobic, I have a valid passport. I'm salty, I'm a time bomb, I'm chronic pain. The build up of all of these means that you realize we can never fully represent ourselves. So that's what I love about this poem. She has used hyperbole to say that even this form can never fully get to the end a about what a poem is or what a person is. All we have on the page of this poem is are these statements. And it's hard to know if even the person who's writing them believes them about themselves. Or maybe there are things that have been said about them. I act white, I'm crazy X, I'm not gang. Those things might be put across to them as something that someone else has said that they've internalized, even if they don't want to. Most of these statements have this gap between them. The lines are long in this poem, for instance, the first line says, I'm ill, I'm federal, I'm on leave, I'm a child of refuge, I'm holy, I'm a shit. That's all on the first line. But in between each of these statements, there's no full stop, no period. But there is a caesura, a gap. And sometimes even the statement itself has a gap between it. That was my confessional is how it goes at the end. There's so much space in between each of these statements and sometimes within the statement that you find yourself looking at this poem or hearing this poem and thinking, what is this saying? About who the person is proclaiming that they're not, or ways within which any statement like this is insufficient. It can never fully describe somebody, and at times it might even be completely inaccurate. But there's ways within which we say all of these things to ourselves that we are being confronted with these. Of course, then I find myself adding to it to think, what would I say today? What wouldn't I say today? What have people said about me? What have I tried not to believe? And so this poem on the page, even though I think it's kind of an experiment on the page saying language will always be insufficient to describe who any individual is, it does beg for a response from any of us who are listening to it or reading it, to think, what is it that I carry even if I don't want to carry? And what's the space? What's the gap? What's the silence in between all these statements of I that I might be tempted to say even if I don't like them? Carmen Jimenez has published a bunch of books of poems. She works in poetry as well. She's the exec director of Gray Wolf Press and the publisher there too. And this poem, I read it years ago when I saw the book Be Recorder. It's the final poem in the book. And so the final line in the whole book is, that was my confessional, thank you very much. There's playfulness within it, and there's a way within which, by saying one thing, that was my confessional, thank you very much. All of the spaces on the page and the voice on the page too, invites us to think what is happening in a poem? Who is the person who's speaking in the poem? And will they always be that, even if it was true at the time they wrote it? Maybe things change by the time that it's being read, or it's being read years later, like it's being now. This poem has been in the public record for, I don't know, at least five years. I think the book came out in 2019. And so I love how the poem here, the Ars Poetica poem, is pointing beyond the poem to say that there's all kinds of things that will need to be confessed. Thank you very much. Ars Poetica by Carmen Jimenez. I'm ill, I'm federal, I'm on leave. I am a child of refuge, I'm holy, I'm a shit, I'm desperate, I won't tell you anything. I'm first gen, I'm Gen X, I'm tied up, I'm bipolar I'm not fertile I'm a secret, I'm the now I'm indifferent I'm a disgrace, I'm funny, I'm assistance I'm not saved I was mormon, I'm atheist, I'm mysterious, I'm scared I'm head of household I'm quick tempered, I'm day job, I'm night ghost, I'm failure, I act white I live bankrolled I'm deliverable I'm not gang, I'm crazy ex, I'm slippery, I'm post post post I'm greedy, I'm double crossing, I'm delusional I'm above average bmi I'm hairy, I'm indebted, I'm weak, I'm non confrontational I'm in therapy I'm sorry I am empowered I don't have a tattoo I don't have money I have too many ex friends I'm agoraphobic, I'm recorder, I have a valid passport I've never been arrested I should have been arrested I know too much I can barely read at times I can barely rise at times I'm gay, I'm marginally fit I'm arthritic, I'm flaky, I have few skills I'm salty, I'm a time bomb, I'm baptized, I'm dry, I am chronic pain, I'm big at mom's house I can't remember how many I am obstructionist, I'm a master that was my confessional. Thank you very much.
Chris Heagle
Ars Poetica comes from Carmen Jimenez's book Be Recorder. Thank you to Gray Wolf Press who gave us permission to use Carmen's poem. Read it on our website@onbeing.org Poetry Unbound.
Padre Goatuma
Is Gautam Srikishan, Eddie Gonzalez, Lucas Johnson.
Chris Heagle
Kayla Edwards, Tiffany Champion, Cameron Moussar and me, Chris Heagle. Our music is composed and provided by Gautam Srikishan and Blue Dot Sessions. This podcast is produced by On Being Studios, which is located on Dakota Land. Open your world to poetry with us by subscribing to our Substack newsletter. For links and to find out more, visit poetryunbound.org.
Padre Goatuma
This podcast is produced by On Being Studios in Minneapolis, Minnesota.
Poetry Unbound: Episode Summary – "Carmen Giménez — Ars Poetica"
Release Date: February 10, 2025
Host: Pádraig Ó Tuama
Podcast: Poetry Unbound by On Being Studios
In this compelling episode of Poetry Unbound, host Pádraig Ó Tuama delves into Carmen Jiménez's evocative poem titled "Ars Poetica". The episode offers an immersive exploration of the poem, unraveling its intricate layers and the profound insights it presents about the nature of poetry and self-expression.
Pádraig begins by sharing a personal anecdote about his journey with poetry, highlighting the profound connection he feels with the art form:
"I started writing poetry when I was 11 and wrote it throughout my teenage years. An intense involvement in religion at 18 paused my poetic endeavors, only for poetry to resurface powerfully years later" ([00:00]).
He introduces "Ars Poetica" as part of Carmen Jiménez's work, situating it within the tradition of poems that explore the essence of poetry itself—a concept originating from the ancient Roman poet Horace.
"Ars Poetica" is presented as a personal and confessional piece, where Jiménez employs a repeated "I'm" structure to articulate a myriad of identities and states of being. This technique serves to both define and deconstruct the self, blurring the lines between the poet, the poem, and the broader human experience.
Pádraig highlights the poem's repetitive and declarative nature, noting:
"It's a poem about poetry, but it's filled with the word I. I'm this, I'm that, I'm this, I am, I'm not, I do, I don't" ([00:52]).
This repetition emphasizes the multiplicity and fragmentation of identity, suggesting that language itself may be insufficient to capture the complexity of the self.
Multiplicity of Identity: The poem lists numerous self-descriptors—ranging from personal attributes to societal roles and emotional states—creating a tapestry of the poet's multifaceted existence.
"I'm ill, I'm federal, I'm on leave, I'm a child of refuge, I'm holy, I'm a shit..." ([04:30]).
Confessional Aspect: Pádraig discusses the poem's confessional nature, a style of poetry that delves into the poet's personal life and emotions. He notes the dual perception of confessional poetry—some view it as therapeutic, while others see it as a raw exploration of human experience.
"Confessional poetry, technically, is the kind of poetry that explores somebody who's exploring parts of their autobiography..." ([06:15]).
Irony and Self-Reflection: By repeatedly asserting "I'm," Jiménez creates an ironic distance between the speaker and the declarations, prompting readers to question the authenticity and completeness of self-representation.
"There’s such irony in this brilliant poem from Carmen Jimenez, because it's a poem about poetry, but it's filled with the word I." ([00:52]).
Language and Representation: Pádraig emphasizes the poem's exploration of the limitations of language in fully encapsulating one's identity. The gaps and caesuras between statements reflect the inherent shortcomings of poetic expression.
"Language will always be insufficient to describe who any individual is. It does beg for a response from any of us who are listening to it or reading it, to think, what is it that I carry even if I don't want to carry?" ([12:45]).
On the Nature of Confession:
"She has used hyperbole to say that even this form can never fully get to the end about what a poem is or what a person is." ([10:20]).
On the Fragmented Self:
"The accumulation of them almost overloads you, and you know pretty much nothing about the person by the end, even though they've said all of these things about what they are." ([09:10]).
On the Gap in Self-Representation:
"Most of these statements have this gap between them. The lines are long in this poem... But in between each of these statements, there's no full stop, no period. But there is a caesura, a gap." ([10:50]).
Pádraig connects Jiménez's work to the universal endeavor of poetry across cultures, suggesting that "Ars Poetica" serves as both a personal confession and a universal statement about the human condition. The poem's structure invites readers to reflect on their own identities and the stories they tell about themselves.
"This poem on the page, even though I think it's kind of an experiment on the page saying language will always be insufficient to describe who any individual is..." ([13:15]).
The episode concludes with a reflection on the enduring relevance of "Ars Poetica" and its invitation to readers and listeners to engage deeply with the poem's themes. Pádraig underscores the poem's enduring impact and its place within Jiménez's broader body of work.
"This poem has been in the public record for, I don't know, at least five years. I think the book came out in 2019. And so I love how the poem here, the Ars Poetica poem, is pointing beyond the poem to say that there's all kinds of things that will need to be confessed." ([14:15]).
The episode briefly acknowledges contributors and production credits, ensuring proper attribution to Carmen Jiménez and Gray Wolf Press for permission to feature the poem.
Key Takeaways:
Notable Quote with Attribution:
"This poem on the page... language will always be insufficient to describe who any individual is." – Pádraig Ó Tuama ([12:45])
This episode of Poetry Unbound offers a profound meditation on identity, language, and the art of poetry through the lens of Carmen Jiménez's "Ars Poetica". Pádraig Ó Tuama's insightful analysis invites both seasoned poetry enthusiasts and newcomers to explore the depths of self-expression and the enduring power of poetic dialogue.