formal poetry - A New Poetics

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formal poetry - A New Poetics

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Where Shadows Go

April 14th 2009 16:09

One of my own photos

Where shadows go no one can tell,
As when the night clicks shut its chest,
Abruptly ending daylights soft farewell,
Enclosing all in darkness tight compressed.

The sun retreats into the west,
Decrees of time and space to quell.

We see the sun recede to rest;
Where shadows go, no one can tell.

We choose to end the lamplights burning spell,
But dark controls itself without contest.
We then in sleeping blindness dwell,
As when the night clicks shut its chest.

The summer shadows, sharp and blessed
With lengthened life, cannot dispel
Encroaching night, the suns long reign to wrest,
Abruptly ending daylights soft farewell.

The shadows sense the sunsets speeding knell;
They see approaching death and so invest
Their time with life enlarged, before the night can swell,
Enclosing all in darkness tight compressed.

Do shadows have an afterlife as honored guest
Of void between the stars, eternal well
Of life, or are they by the sun possessed,
Or is it in this closed-lid, darkened shell
Where shadows go?

This poem form is called Rondeau Redouble (or double rondo). The rhyme scheme is abab baba abab etc. to the end. Each line of the first stanza is repeated as the last line of each subsequent stanza, as you can see in the poem I presented here. The very last line of the poem is the first bit of the first line. It's a really tough form to write because of the rigid rhyme scheme as well as the line repetition.

As a result, I used a scheme known as Anastrophe (uh-nass-truh-fee) which is when the regular grammatical sequence of a phrase/clause is reversed. I like to call this "Yodafication" since this is how Yoda always talks in Star Wars. For example, the normal way would be "No one can tell where shadows go" but I reverse it to be "Where shadows go no one can tell." This is a common poetic (and prosaic) technique that stretches back to the ancients. It works too, as long as you don't overuse it--then it just sounds forced and cheesy ("Hallmark" poetry). I use this scheme in several spots in this poem, "Where Shadows Go." Can you find them all?

I'd also like to say a word about photography. I absolutely love taking photos, especially of nature (landscapes, plants, animals, sunsets, etc.) because it's fun trying to get the perfect angle of something, the perfect distance and coloring and lighting, to make something ordinary into something beautiful. It's all about new perspectives. If you can get at something with an unusual perspective, or an interesting angle, that thing suddenly becomes more interesting and beautiful. I think all poets and writers ought to take up photography and maybe even take a photography class. It really helps stimulate my creative process. In fact, the picture I posted on this post (one of my own) inspired me to write "Where Shadows Go" and a few other poems. So next time you go for a walk or a drive, take your camera along--you never know what might strike you at a given moment.

Oh, and yes I've returned from my long hiatus. I didn't expect it to be so long, but it turned into almost a couple months! I got so caught up in life that I forgot about this little blog, then I realized that the 60 day mark was coming up soon, so I decided I needed to start posting again! I started this thing in the first place to help spur me along in my writing and not get complacent, which is exactly what happened during my hiatus. I was very busy with schoolwork and life in general, but I wasn't writing very much. Over Easter, I was relaxed and rejuvenated and my muse returned to me. So here I am again!

I plan to highlight more poetic/rhetorical schemes and tropes in the future, and maybe talk more specifically about photography. Until then, have a great day and keep your eyes and your minds open!

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Posted By: Andrew Kerstetter - Category: formal poetry, writing poetry

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No Winter Maintenance

March 12th 2009 16:28

December boughs stretch out like claws
That scratch around for sustenance
Which wont be found till Springtime thaws.

This roads in need of maintenance,
But signs say snow forestalls the fix.
Till Spring therell be no recompense

For anger spent on winters tricks
Which make our fragile minds irate,
Though selfsame storms our souls transfix:

Our hearts their crystal mirrors bait,
Reflecting light to blind our eyes
As mounds of mirrors gather weight

And trap us under pallid skies,
Surrounded by the level white
Of snow that brings our hopes demise.

Their weary eyes dismayed with sight
Of hidden paths and hidden holes
And roadways clogged with diamonds bright,

The people quickly think their goals
Are overwhelming; then they scheme
To fight for what the storm controls,

To push against the ice and scream
Frustrations at the diamond-wall,
To melt the frost, their rage redeem

The time it took to shred the pall
And give them some small sustenance,
All peaceful thoughts beyond recall.

They never win the fight, nor get their recompense:
As I await in warm abode for Spring to make the call,
They know defeat and raise the sign No winter maintenance.

Living in the midst of the U.S. snowbelt region, I'm well-acquainted with the "no winter maintenance" sign, and people's frustration at the snow. This poem can be seen as humorous, but also harboring some deeper more serious thoughts and critiques on humanity and human nature. At least that's my opinion; but of course the final word isn't really up to me, since I'm biased.

This poem takes the form of a terza rima. A terza rima is, in my mind, a sort of combination of the Spenserian sonnet's interlocking rhyme and the villanelle's repetition. Instead of whole repeating lines like the villanelle, the tercets (3-line stanzas) of the terza rima are connected by their end-rhymes: aba bcb cdc ded, and so on. The terza rima is not a closed form: the poet can continue writing the tercets as long as he wants as long as the rhyme scheme remains intact. This poem form usually ends with either a single line that rhymes with one of the lines in the previous tercet, a rhyming couplet, or with a final tercet that fits the rest of the poem's rhyme.

I chose to write this poem in iambic tetrameter, but the final tercet has one line of hexameter and two lines of heptameter. When I say iambic pentameter, I'm not talking about the number of syllables: I'm talking about the number of poetic feet. If you just say "pentameter" that means there are five feet--hexameter= six feet, heptameter=seven feet, tetrameter= four feet, etc. A poetic foot is made up of two or more syllables; some feet have up to 5 or 6 syllables (though in that range it's mostly splitting hairs...a 5-6 syllable foot could easily be interpreted as 2 or more smaller feet).

But when I say "iambic" I'm referring to what kind of poetic foot is used in the line. An iamb is a foot of two syllables, an unstressed one followed by a stressed one. But there are 3-syllable and 4-syllable feet as well: a dactylic foot has a stressed syllable and 2 unstresseds ("Washington"), and its opposite is an anapestic foot, or anapest. A cretic foot--or amphimacer--has a stressed, unstressed, and another stressed syllable ("Crocodile"). An example of a four-syllable foot is a secundus paeon, which has one unstressed syllable then a stressed syllable, then 2 more unstressed syllables.

So when you see a term like "iambic pentameter" versus "dactylic trimeter," the 2nd one has only 1 less syllable than the first, because a dactyl is 3 syllables, and trimeter means there are 3 feet, so there are 3 dactyls= 9 syllables. Pentameter means 5 feet, and if its iambic, then there are 5 iambs= 10 syllables. So don't assume that just because something says "pentameter" or "tetrameter" that it will have 10 or 8 syllables, since the number of syllables depends on what kind of foot is used.

Anyway, back to my poem. The hardest part of terza rimas, for me, is the interlocking rhyme scheme. I have concrete, poetic ideas, but I have to mold them, manipulate them to fit the form. This is annoying but also rewarding, as it helps expand your vocabulary and mode of thinking. If it weren't for this restriction, I might not have come up with my metaphors of snow/ice being like mirrors and diamonds. I picked diamonds because I honestly don't think they're very attractive...it's just a cultural thing. They're just obnoxiously sparkly with no color at all. I find it shallow and unaesthetic that the only reason people value diamonds so much is because they're pricey; rare; valuable. I don't see much aesthetic/romatic value in them at all. Of course there are plenty of people who honestly think diamonds are beautiful, but a huge majority of people only value them because they are themselves very valuable monetarily.

I also made the poem circular in a way, reusing the words 'maintenance' and 'recompense' at the end, just as I did near the beginning. Also notice the shifting viewpoint/pronouns throughout the poem...see if you can decipher some meaning from the shift of pronoun usage. I'm trying more and more in my poetry to add subtle clues to make readers think without knocking them over the head with what I'm trying to do. Let me know if it works!

Tomorrow I'll start a new segment on epic poetry by beginning my discussion of John Milton's Paradise Lost. Starting with book 1, each Friday I'll discuss each subsequent book's themes and how it accomplishes its task poetically. I'll also try to mark the important differences between epic poetry and prose and other, shorter poetry. Until then, have a nice day!

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Posted By: Andrew Kerstetter - Category: formal poetry, writing poetry, meter

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Boy at the Window, by Richard Wilbur

February 24th 2009 01:24

Seeing the snowman standing all alone
In dusk and cold is more than he can bear.
The small boy weeps to hear the wind prepare
A night of gnashings and enormous moan.
His tearful sight can hardly reach to where
The pale-faced figure with bitumen eyes
Returns him such a God-forsaken stare
As outcast Adam gave to paradise.

The man of snow is, nonetheless, content,
Having no wish to go inside and die.
Still, he is moved to see the youngster cry.
Though frozen water is his element,
He melts enough to drop from one soft eye
A trickle of the purest rain, a tear
For the child at the bright pane surrounded by
Such warmth, such light, such love, and so much fear.

This is just an overall good poem. It has good structure, and its rhyme scheme informs and energizes the poem, rather than enervating it, as is the case with "Hallmark" poetry, which many self-proclaimed 'free-verse' poets blanket-label any rhyming verse.

Also, there aren't many adjectives or adverbs; what few are present help inform the poem instead of weigh it down with heavy loads of unnecessary letters. It flows right along with a narrative, verby feel, which is a classic mark of world-renowned poetry.

As for any deeper meanings in this poem, I'm cut off from that knowledge. Maybe I'm just too tired and frazzled from a long day of classes, but I can't coherently piece any thoughts together about what this poem might mean. If anyone has any ideas, feel free to share them!

Have a good night, everyone!

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Posted By: Andrew Kerstetter - Category: formal poetry, criticism

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Humility--a sonnet

February 23rd 2009 01:08

When I went out to shed my dismal mood

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Posted By: Andrew Kerstetter - Category: formal poetry, sonnet, writing poetry, meter

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A Miracle for Breakfast, by Elizabeth Bishop

February 16th 2009 21:11

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Posted By: Andrew Kerstetter - Category: formal poetry, sestina, criticism

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Blackberry-Picking, by Seamus Heaney

February 12th 2009 00:38

Late August, given heavy rain and su

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