580 likes | 706 Views
Interested in Writing Poetry?. A Crash Course in Form, The Spoken Word Tradition, and The Visual Tradition. This Power Point is an optional resource—use it to help jump-start a poem, improve a poem already underway, or otherwise inform your magazine submissions. Form in Poetry.
E N D
Interested in Writing Poetry? A Crash Course in Form, The Spoken Word Tradition, and The Visual Tradition This Power Point is an optional resource—use it to help jump-start a poem, improve a poem already underway, or otherwise inform your magazine submissions.
Form in Poetry Bonk baby Bonk baby…Bonk-Bonk! Rhythm! Goatfoot Milktongue Twinbird Sound and ORAL satisfaction, Yumm The satisfying CLICK at the end when opposites are resolved; total form.
What makes poetry different from prose, in the most rudimentary sense? It’s in LINES! Well, usually. Ok, so how do you know where to break those lines? What principles govern line length?
Accentual Verse Line lengths determined by a consistent number of beats per line. In a summer season when soft was the sun I shaped me in shrouds as a shepherd I were In habit as a hermit unholy of works Went wide in this world wonders to hear caesura or pause
Accentual verse, as in the Old English, can be a bit wooden: BONK-BONK (pause) BONK-BONK (pause) But its simplicity and even courseness is beautiful in its way.
So, line lengths in poetry can be determined by a set number of beats or stresses. When you follow this principle, you’re writing accentual verse. Line lengths, though, can also be determined by other principles, such as a set number of Syllables When you do this, you’re writing syllabic verse. A famous Asian syllabic form of course is the _______________. Distant siren screams Dumb-ass Verne’s been playing with Gasoline again. HAIKU Tanka, another Japanese form, has five unrhymed lines of five, seven, five, seven, and seven syllables. (5, 7, 5, 7, 7) 5 syllables 7 syllables 5 syllables
white trash haiku: REMORSE A painful sadnessCan't fit big screen TV throughDouble-wide's front door DEPRIVED In WalMart toy aisleWailing boy wants Barbie dollMama whups his ass DESIRE Damn, in that tube-topYou make me almost forgetYou are my cousin
Syllabics aren’t really native to English, however, because ... English is a Germanic language and heavily stressed. Syllable countin and of itself isn’t important to meaning. Stresses, on the other hand, can be FELT and are INTEGRAL to meaning:
Hey look at the white house. Hey look at the White House.
And yet another way of determining line length is: by counting BOTH stresses and syllables. This is called accentual-syllabic verse.
A unit comprised of a stressed syllable and its accompanying unstressed syllables is called a FOOT. iamb = trochee = anapest = dactyl =
pentameter A line with 5 feet = ______________ A line with 3 feet = ______________ A line with six feet = _____________ And so on. trimeter hexameter
There are many patterns possible in accentual-syllabic lines: Iambic pentameter A line with 5 iambic feet = ______________ A line with 3 dactylic feet = _____________ A line with 4 trochaic feet = ____________ dactylic trimeter trochaic tetrameter And so on.
Why do you suppose the IAMB is so important a foot in English poetry? Der!
that’s… Goatfoot,honey! Rhythm Pattern Thrumming Throbbing YOUR OWN CONSTANT PULSE!
Traditional or fixed formswith particular meters as well as set stanza lengths • The sonnet • The sestina • The villanelle And so on.
One Art The art of losing isn’t hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster. Lose something every day. Accept the fluster of lost door keys, the hour badly spent. The art of losing isn’t hard to master. Then practice losing farther, losing faster: places, and names, and where it was you meant to travel. None of these will bring disaster. I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or next-to-last, of three loved houses went. The art of losing isn’t hard to master. I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster, some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent. I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster. --Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident the art of losing’s not too hard to master though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster. --Elizabeth Bishop
The More You Have to Lose –David Lehman Time flies, and a year can go by in a day. Look at your watch. Do your eyes say 2:45 or 9:15? The more you have, the more you can give away. You know the feeling, having no money, having to stay With relatives when you travel, unable to say what you mean: Time lies, and a year can go by in a day. When my father turned into my son, as in a play, All the fun took place offstage. What about the missing queen? The more you have, the more you can give away. The less you believe. The more you wish you could pray. Like a clock without hands, the truth of a face remains unseen. Time lies, and a year can go by in a day. With an elbow on the counter, and no passions left to sway, The all-night waitress smokes butt after butt, coughing in-between: The more you have, the more you can throw away. Ocean, what is on the other side of all that blue and gray? What does the grass know of yesterday's vanished green? Time lies, and a year can go by in a day. The more you have, the more you can give away.
First Offense —David Lehman I'm sorry, officer, I didn't see the sign Because, in fact, there wasn't any. I tell you The light was green. How much is the fine? Will the tumor turn out malignant or benign? Will the doctor tell us? He said he knew. I'm sorry, officer, I didn't see the sign. Not every madman is an agent of the divine. Not all who pass are allowed to come through. The light was green. How much is the fine? Which is worse, the rush or the wait? The line Interminable, or fear of coming fate? His anxiety grew. I'm sorry, officer. I didn't see the sign. I'm cold sober. All I had was one glass of wine. Was anyone hurt? Is there anything I can do? The light was green. How much is the fine? Will we make our excuses like so many clever lines, Awkwardly delivered? Never to win, always to woo? I'm sorry, officer. I didn't see the sign. The light was green. How much is the fine?
The sestina is a fun one… The sestina is a poem in iambic pentameter, with thirty-nine lines, divided into six stanzas of six lines each, plus a terminal envoy of three lines. The same six words conclude the lines of each stanza, but their order is varied in each stanza according to a strict pattern. The final envoy also uses the six words, but three appear at the ends of the lines and three appear in the middle of the lines. In the graph below, each number represents a specific word.
5—Crave 3--Hope 2 6 1 4 4 5 1 3 6 2 2 4 6 5 3 1 BTW, most people don’t write the sestina in pentameter; it’s already hard enough! Stanza I Stanza IV 1--Angel 2--Sandwich 3--Hope 4--Below 5--Crave 6—Time 1--Angel 5--Crave 2--Sandwich 6--Time 4--Below 3--Hope 3--Hope 6 Time 4 Below 1 Angel 2 Sandwich 5 Crave Stanza II …and so on Stanza V Envoy Stanza VI Stanza III 2---5 4---3 6---1
See this sestina collection. http://www.ndsu.nodak.edu/instruct/cinichol/CreativeWriting/323/SestinaCollection.htm
Pantoums are also a kick… • Lines are grouped into quatrains (4-line stanzas). • The final line of the Pantoum must be the same as its first line. • A Pantoum has any number of quatrains. • Lines may be of any length. • The Pantoum has a rhyme scheme of abab in each quatrain. Thus, the lines rhyme alternately. • The Pantoum says everything twice: For all quatrains except the first, the first line of the current quatrain repeats the second line in the preceeding quatrain; and the third line of the current quatrain repeats the fourth line of the preceeding quatrain. In addition, for the final quatrain, its second line repeats the (so-far unrepeated) third line in the first quatrain; and its last line repeats the (so-far unrepeated) first line of the first quatrain. Thus the pattern of line-repetition is as follows, where the lines of the first quatrain are represented by the numbers "1 2 3 4": 1 2 3 4 Lines in first quatrain 2 5 4 6 Lines in second quatrain 5 7 6 8 Lines in third quatrain 7 9 8 10 Lines in fourth quatrain 9 3 10 1 Lines in fifth and final quatrain
Pantoum Of The Great Depression Our lives avoided tragedySimply by going on and on,Without end and with little apparent meaning.Oh, there were storms and small catastrophes.Simply by going on and onWe managed. No need for the heroic.Oh, there were storms and small catastrophes.I don't remember all the particulars.We managed. No need for the heroic.There were the usual celebrations, the usual sorrows.I don't remember all the particulars.Across the fence, the neighbors were our chorus.There were the usual celebrations, the usual sorrows.Thank god no one said anything in verse.The neighbors were our only chorus,And if we suffered we kept quiet about it.At no time did anyone say anything in verse.It was the ordinary pities and fears consumed us,And if we suffered we kept quiet about it.No audience would ever know our story.It was the ordinary pities and fears consumed us.We gathered on porches; the moon rose; we were poor.What audience would ever know our story?Beyond our windows shone the actual world.We gathered on porches; the moon rose; we were poor.And time went by, drawn by slow horses.Somewhere beyond our windows shone the actual world.The Great Depression had entered our souls like fog. --Donald Justice And time went by, drawn by slow horses.We did not ourselves know what the end was.The Great Depression had entered our souls like fog.We had our flaws, perhaps a few private virtues.But we did not ourselves know what the end was.People like us simply go on.We had our flaws, perhaps a few private virtues,But it is by blind chance only that we escape tragedy.And there is no plot in that; it is devoid of poetry.
Blank Verse Unrhymed iambic pentameter with no set number of lines. from "Birches" When I see birches bend to left and right Across the lines of straighter darker trees, I like to think some boy's been swinging them. But swinging doesn't bend them down to stay As ice-storms do. Often you must have seen them Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning After a rain. They click upon themselves As the breeze rises, and turn many-colored As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel. Soon the sun's warmth makes them shed crystal shells Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust— Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away You'd think the inner dome of heaven had fallen. --Robert Frost Let’s analyze some lines on the board…
Does form affect content? • Does the sonnet or the sestina or the villanelle lead to a certain pattern of thinking?
Also, listen, not just for beats or metrics, but for ssssssssounds… From Robert Frost’s “Birches” Often you must have seen them Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning After a rain. They click upon themselves As the breeze rises, and turn many-colored As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel. Soon the sun's warmth makes them shed crystal shells Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust—
SENSUAL SOUNDS AND TEXTURES THAT'S MILKTONGUE, BABY! Along with rhythm, they make up the sensual body of the poem.
Often you must have seen them Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning After a rain. They click upon themselves As the breeze rises, and turn many-colored As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel. Soon the sun's warmth makes them shed crystal shells Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust—
ice sunny soon sun's shed shells shattering snow SSSSSSSSnake sunny enamel nnnn & mmmm & nunderful! click colored KickKluckKlack breeze rises crazes ZZZZZZZuzu’s petals stir cracks crust ERRRRRiotous! andsssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
Root Cellar Nothing would sleep in that cellar, dank as a ditch, Bulbs broke out of boxes hunting for chinks in the dark, Shoots dangled and drooped, Lolling obscenely from mildewed crates, Hung down long yellow evil necks, like tropical snakes. And what a congress of stinks! Roots ripe as old bait, Pulpy stems, rank, silo-rich, Leaf-mold, manure, lime, piled against slippery planks. Nothing would give up life: Even the dirt kept breathing a small breath.
alliteration consonance assonance dank ditch dark dangled drooped dirt dank broke chinks dark necks snakes ripe silo lime piled life sleep cellar bulbs dangled lolling obscenely mildewed long yellow evil planks like piled tropical sleep roots ripe rank rich manure slippery dirt breathing breath tropical ripe pulpy piled slippery planks mildewed stems mold manure lime small long I-sounds plus L’s plus P’s and B’s and M’s = LOTS OF LONG TROPICAL LOOPY SNAKY LIVES LOLLING IN BREATHY DANK AND MOLDY DARK! Language that sounds like what it means; evokes feeling utterly in synch with meaning.
Any form of sound pattern in poetry, really, is a form of RHYME • True or exact rhyme = the first or middle vowel and the final consonant of two words are exactly the same, but the final consonant, if there is one, differs: hat/cat ear/beer. • Slant or partial rhyme = the first consonant (if any) in two words is the same; the middle vowel is different; and the final consonant is the same: hat/heat ear/are. • Assonance = two or more words have the same vowel sounds: the pink breeze we need is free. • Alliteration = two or more words have the same initial consonant: huge hairy hungry hunk. • Consonance = two or more words have the same end consonant sounds: munch the batch of arched and crouching stitches.
Nothing would give up life: Even the dirt kept breathing a small breath.
Feel the CLICK at the end of Roethke’s poem? That’s FORM ! & the satisfying resolution or suspension of opposites, of tension. TWINBIRD That’s…
Ok, so what’s “free verse”? Poetry with no form? Poetry with no constraints of any kind? Lines can be broken randomly, no patterns of sound or stress?
Free verse poems (good ones) always have TONS of rhythm and gorgeous sound patterns. These features simply aren’t prescribed in advanced of the poem, but are rather discovered in the writing of the poem. They are used more or less UNCON-SCIOUSLY and intuitively. And they will of course tend to be less regular than in fixed forms. T.S. Eliot said that good free verse always had the ghost of meter behind it. NOT!
Free verse lines are typically broken according to the following principles:
= end-stopped • Desire for a particular effect, ethos, feeling • Smoothness and elegance, for example, with a spoken quality, whole sentences or complete phrases He was completely and outrageously without a stitch of clothing. • Or maybe roughness, a poem that “fights itself,” is less “spoken,” stuttery, broken against the syntax of the sentence, of the phrase • Rhetorical emphasis and desire to stress particular words: • Breath units He was completely and outrageously without a stitch of clothing. • Visual emphasis = enjammed • He was • Completely and • Outrageously without • A • Stitch of • Clothing. • He • Was completely and • Outrageously • Without a stitch of • Clothing. • He was completely and outrageously without • A stitch • Of clothing.
For a great poet who enjamms a lot… see Robert Creeley http://www.ndsu.nodak.edu/instruct/cinichol/CreativeWriting/323/MiscpoemsCreeley2.htm
What determines stanza breaks in free verse? • Each stanza is a verse paragraph, focused on a single topic or idea. • Each stanza and its accompanying break is a unit of rhythm. • Each stanza is a rhetorical gesture.
The Mirror Watching you in the mirror I wonder what it is like to be so beautiful and why you do not love but cut yourself, shaving like a blind man. I think you let me stare so you can turn against yourself with greater violence,needing to show me how you scrape the flesh away scornfully and without hesitationuntil I see you correctly, as a man bleeding, not the reflection I desire.
The Mirror Watching you in the mirror I wonder what it is like to be so beautiful and why you do not love but cut yourself, shaving like a blind man. I think you let me stare so you can turn against yourself with greater violence, needing to show me how you scrape the flesh away scornfully and without hesitation until I see you correctly, as a man bleeding, not the reflection I desire. Lines all end-stopped (complete sentences or phrases)
The Mirror Watching you in the mirror I wonder what it is like to be so beautiful and why you do not love but cut yourself, shaving like a blind man. I think you let me stare so you can turn against yourself with greater violence, needing to show me how you scrape the flesh away scornfully and without hesitation until I see you correctly, as a man bleeding, not the reflection I desire. Lines all enjambed (broken against the syntax of the sentence, cutting into the sentence and the phrase)
The Mirror Glück’s version Watching you in the mirror I wonderwhat it is like to be so beautifuland why you do not lovebut cut yourself, shavinglike a blind man. I think you let me stareso you can turn against yourselfwith greater violence,needing to show me how you scrape the flesh awayscornfully and without hesitationuntil I see you correctly,as a man bleeding, notthe reflection I desire.
Be sure to read over “Form and Poetry” online—that page includes LOTS of links to GREAT sample poems!http://www.ndsu.edu/instruct/cinichol/CreativeWriting/323/FormandPoetry.htmLook also at Sherman Alexie, for example. The guy writes in practically every form you can think of.Click here for Shermanhttp://www.ndsu.edu/instruct/cinichol/CreativeWriting/323/MiscPoemsAlexie.htm
AND NOW… the persona poem (or poems written in “mask”) See Frank Bidart. http://www.ndsu.edu/instruct/cinichol/CreativeWriting/323/MiscPoemsBidart.htm