The Long and Winding Mirrorball

It's funny (strange/ha-ha -- either or both, depending) how what we write ends up as a mirror.

You set something aside after you finish re-reading it 20x ("I can't believe how ... ," etc.), and then come back to it and see yourself reflected back in it.

It can make us a little sad, or feel grateful, or both or something else -- but whatever it does to us, we've just (if it works at all) polished a mirror. Is it reflecting something somebody else has been seeing all along (in you, on you, from you ...), or is it something completely new?

Is it -- in other words -- a revelation or a self-revelation (or both)? Do you add "merely" to "self-revelation," or can you confidently state this revelation is unique to time?

These questions are very hard to answer. But, I think they're important, nonetheless.

Seeking the answers can put us a little further on the path to the next poem.

This is a journey, isn't it?

That's icky ... .

Ick.

Though it's not a word as such, it's an expression we all know.

An "exclamation used to express disgust" -- that's according to the Oxford American. (It's in the dictionary, so I guess some might say that makes it a word.)

Now, think of how many famous rhyming poems you know right off the top of your head that use -ick as a rhyme sound.

OK, get an anthology and look through it. See how many you find rhyming -ick.

Not having an anthology to hand, I'll stick my neck out and say, "not many." (I'm sure when I do check, I'll be somewhat surprised. But I'll welcome that.)

My point is that just because a word rhymes doesn't make it a good one. "Euphony" -- yes, that's part of what I mean. But also, "association" -- that is, what the reader is likely to associate with the word or the sound itself, if anything.

Sick, trick, flick, pick, slick, stick, kick, d--- , chick, brick, lick, hick, quick, tick, wick and ... yick (OK, not a word). Et cetera.

Clique, pique, meek, sleek, reek, geek, creek, etc. for slant rhymes.

See what I mean? If you're not going for overall humorous effect or satiric bite, you're going to have to justify using that rhyme sound somehow. And there might be very good reasons, beyond the two I've mentioned. But they're probably going to need to be specific.

There are other sounds in this category, BTW. I've just picked (ouch!) an obvious one.

And, there are ways to get away with using some of them, if necessary. Maybe I'll get into that another day.

P.S.: If you look at this post carefully, (including the title), you'll spot two easy "get-arounds."

"Getting so much better all the time!"

I've made small but significant edits and additions to the July 7, 2008 entry in this blog, the one titled "I knew that, but I didn't know I knew that."

The title's ironic because I am learning more, bit by bit, about the subject of that particular entry.

Keep scanning, mark your caesuras (in the day, I used // in very light pencil) and have fun! :D

Next time, I hope to get more into recognition of good rhyme sounds.

Ouch!

I'm learning the hard way (is there any other?) that sometimes you write a poem that's just for you.

Though you never (or hardly ever, that I can recall) hear of a "professional" poet writing a poem for themselves and no one else, I have a feeling that, if they were honest about it, they do.

Now, if people know about you, and they are curious about your work, they're going to get their hands on these poems someday, too. And you'll be judged by those probably more than any other thing you've done, whether those "readers" have the acumen or finesse to interpret them correctly or not.

So, you've got to write those private things knowing you'll either have to burn them yourself as soon as you write them or leave them to scrutiny at a time and place out of your control, and maybe beyond your consent.

That's why you never hear a "professional" poet admitting he or she has some private work.

I'm mentioning this now, my dear readers, because if you've been reading these little messages all year, you may have noticed your work improving. And that means you're starting to attract more attention.

It feels good, at first. But beware: there are thorns woven in those laurels.

"Trochee trips from long to short ... "

The last resolution I'm going to deal with for now is really for trimeter, specifically trochaic trimeter:

TUM ta TUM ta TUM ta TUM

If you're writing a trochaic line, you pretty much need that extra TUM on the end of the line. There is no additional 'ta' at the start of the next line, either.

I forget what that extra TUM is called just now. But you need it in lines of trochees, or your line just keeps on rolling down a winding staircase. (This is also true for lines of dactyls.)

After this, for the next few weeks, I'm going to get back to talking with you about more general matters. See you then.