Okolona poet loves writing, discussing poetry, music
Jun. 3—OKOLONA — There are nights — many of them — in which Charles Farned simply can't sleep. That's when he writes poetry.
Seated at a small desk inside his darkened room, its walls lined with bookshelves and art supplies and some musical equipment, the 77-year-old Okolona native will huddle over a glowing laptop screen and write.
"A lot of times, I stay up late at night," Farned said, sitting on the bed in his room inside the Okolona nursing home in which he lives. "That's when I do most of my writing and paint most of my pictures."
Excerpt
The science of behavior is just a foolish name/
You may be free tomorrow, but you'll never be the same/
I wish I weren't guilty, and that you deserved the blame/
The ones we thought were wild, they all turned out to be tame — From "Shakespeare Doesn't Live Here Anymore"
That's because it's when most of his ideas arrive, barging into his brain like uninvited, but not unwelcome, guests.
Most poems, he said, start with little more than an idea or a feeling. Maybe just a clever bit of silliness that popped into his head while going about his day. His poem, "You Broke My Heart at Walmart and I Cried All the Way to Sears," for example.
"I just start out with an idea — or a line will come into my head — and I'll just start writing," he said.
It's a process he welcomes with open arms. He prepares for it.
"I try to clear my mind and just let it drift," he said. "I don't know what you would call it, but sometimes I will have an idea, and I'll get stuck. I can't finish it. So, I'll lay down. A lot of my poetry has been written while I'm laying down."
Farned estimates he's written some 320 poems intermittently over the years, a handful of which have been published here or there, but most of which haven't. It started, however, with "The Tennessee Traveler," a brief series of verses he penned as a sixth-grader that won a local writing contest.
His prize: $2.
"That was a lot of money back there," Farned said with a dry laugh.
More importantly, however, it stoked his love for the medium.
Excerpt
Maybe I should leave this town/
And maybe start to ramble/
Or keep company with the men/
Who love to drink and gamble/
I don't know when my trouble will end/
It certainly hasn't yet/
But then I don't worry much about it/
I know Romeo and I know Juliet — From "I Know Romeo and I Know Juliet"
Farned wrote poetry off and on throughout the 1970s and 1980s as he bounced from job to job, place to place. Dark stuff. Unrhymed. Much of what he wrote dealt with depression. He's battled mental health issues for years and even had to spend some time in the state mental hospital. Although most of his current poetry isn't personal, it has offered him an outlet over the years. A way to release his emotions through the written word.
In the late 1990s, Farned's writing shifted to something he considers more palatable to most readers. Farned's current writing continues in that vein.
"I try to write something that people can read," he said . "Even the kind of abstract poetry, I call it 'Dylan-like.'"
Styling his work after that of Bob Dylan isn't surprising. Music has always played a big part in Farned's life, and he's open about his influences. Nothing modern. Farned loves Dylan and Jimmy Rogers, Johnny Cash and B.B. King and Little Richard. He thinks what Earl Scruggs could do on a five-string banjo is astounding.
As for poets, Farned favors Wallace Stevens and A.E. Housman. His older brother, Jimmy, introduced him to the work of Robert Frost. "Birches" was one of his favorites. They would discuss it at length.
The late Jimmy Farned's influence on the younger Farned's life seems to be profound.
"He was one of the — I guess you could say — intellectual and artistic inspirations of my life," Farned said. Jimmy Farned introduced his younger brother to poetry and music. The two lived together for a while in the 1970s in Washington, D.C., while Farned struggled to make a go of a music career. The two would talk art and philosophy. Read poetry. Listen to music.
Excerpt
The highway is for everyone/
Until you see the writing on the wall/
And don't be surprised at nothing/
When you take that long walk down the hall/
We played hard and tried our best/
But we lost by just a run/
The taste of that defeat was bad enough/
But the worst was yet to come/
And our worst fears were realized/
That day we stood and cheered/
An athlete was murdered/
A politician disappeared — From "An Athlete was Murdered, A Politician Disappeared"
A student of mathematics, there was a time when Farned wanted to work in psychology, but he never has. Mostly, he's bounced around from career to career. He worked for Southern Bell in Atlanta. He was a cab driver in Washington, D.C., for a while. There was a stint as a security guard and as a bag boy.
"I've quit so many jobs," he said. Another dry laugh.
Poetry, however, has been a constant in his life. Even when he wasn't writing much of it, he was reading it.
Since moving into the nursing home four years ago, Farned's grown more prolific in his writing. He's up late more and more, writing or painting.
"When I got here, I had plenty of time," he said. "I'll write five or six poems a month that I consider decent."
Farned will write a poem and make a hard copy with a small desktop printer, then place the page inside a binder among others. He'll often return to his previous writing for revisions.
"When I write a poem, I let it sit for a while. Then, I go back to it," he said. "Last night, I think it was, I made some changes to a poem I wrote about a year ago. All of these poems ... I guess you could say they're works in progress."
Farned's had a few poems published here and there. Decades ago, his brother introduced him to the editor of a small California-based literary publication, which inevitably printed a few of Farned's pieces. The local paper, too, has run a few.
Mostly, though, Farned writes for himself. Or, he posts his creations on one of several websites where unpublished poets can share their work. Sometimes, he'll receive feedback. Often, he doesn't.
Not that that matters much. The feedback, that is. Although Farned loves to discuss poetry and misses the long conversations he would have with his brother about Frost and Housman, Dylan and Scruggs, the writing is more about release. It's about staying up late and letting words spill from his mind onto a blank document.
"It makes me feel good about myself," Farned said.
He likened it to a restful night.
"If you get a good night's sleep, you feel good," Farned said. "If you write a poem, you feel better, you know?"
