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, dear readers, because if you've been reading all along, 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.
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."
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?
My "No Chalk" Day
Ahem, pay attention class. Time for the weekly lesson ... (raises chalk in hand and approaches board behind him -- then freezes).
I have no lesson for you today, or really anytime. It's a persona I put on just to help me phrase things here.
And that's especially true today, since I can offer nothing better than a link (which, as usual, you'll have to copy-and-paste into your browser, I'm afraid) to three things much better than I can offer.
Or, perhaps you'd enjoy some winter exercise like a walk to the public library in your neighborhood.
In either case, Poetry magazine's December 2008 issue has three articles I can recommend to you enthusiastically.
An interview with Seamus Heaney, a memoir by Fannie Howe and a book review by Michael Robbins all deal with subjects I've touched on here -- and in far greater depth than I can.
Enjoy!
Yes, You -Can- Use Colored Chalk ...
You may want to add some "personality" to your verse, especially in sequences.
The most well-known examples are the collected poems of Robert Browning. Famous for his dramatic monologues in blank verse, Browning also wrote some in rhyme -- sometimes in experiments so bold few dared to try them (at least that I know of).
He almost always invented a character (or used historical ones) to "deliver" his poem, prompting the reader to discern for themselves who was "talking" and why they were saying just what Browning had them say.
Swinburne (mentioned many posts ago) and Thomas Hardy (same) were among the few who emulated Browning's rhetorical method with success. Both also made their own forays into metrical expression, again following Browning's example.
But there's another, more subtle, use of developing a "persona" for some of your poems. Again, we return to Shakespeare: it has been suggested that his sonnets are less like letters or diary entries than they may appear.
The master dramatist may have chosen elements of other people's personalities, or (more likely) just invented some of those elements, and carefully blended them with his own to create a "spokesman" for his personal poems.
This is pretty much "upper-level" stuff for a writer: it takes a lot of self-knowledge to see how this could be done as an individual, and a lot of skill to actually pull it off.
But I thought I'd pass it along now, in case you have some of those poems that are a little too personal you can't bring yourself to burn.
Ask yourself this: does the mirror occasionally reflect someone else?
"Words, words, words ... "
Words are the bricks in our buildings.
Yes, we can use them to build a wall between us and our readers, or we can use them to construct edifices for them to explore. It's up to us.
What's great about English, in particular, is the richness of its many nuances. We have denotation, connotation, historic definitions, associated or applied definitions, plus various "senses" depending on context. And various usages, depending on the application of those "senses."
Wow! Sounds pretty complex when you think about it.
Usually, these things are intuitive to most users of the language. We poets join the linguists in consciously thinking about them, but we have different aims in so doing.
Expression is what we do, but it doesn't hurt to have a little background in the architecture of language before we begin to express ourselves.
"But what's the mortar?"
Studying foreign languages that are really foreign (those that force you to learn their grammar before you can read them with any continuous ability at all) can benefit those who want to learn more about their own language.
I came to that kind of language learning late.
That feels odd for me to say, since I was picking polysyllabic words out of newspapers when I was ... well, really young. (But no one should push a child to learn to read, IMHO. I wasn't.)
People I met in college who were really good at, say, Latin, started at a relatively young age. (Whether they were pushed or not, I have no idea.)
I never learned to read continuously the languages I took in college. But that doesn't mean I learned nothing. Just doing it with even moderate success under grading pressure exercised the language "muscles" in my brain sufficiently to help me write better.
If you're not in school now, maybe you could try to teach one to yourself -- but that's really hard! (You've got to test and grade yourself, as well as check your own homework.)
Maybe you could read good books about language in general, instead. I'm afraid I have no suggestions beyond the Otto Jespersen book I mentioned earlier this year.
The idea is to get your hands directly onto the building blocks of your medium -- language. I wish you the best of luck.
"a right guid-willie waught ..."
Your assignment is to find the full text of the annual song sung on the eve of January 1st.
Read it, scan it (in your mind, if it's library book or something like that) and learn from it.
To me, its author is a master of pretty much everything I've been saying this year.
For All Clowns' Day
from “Metrical Feet”
by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Trochee trips from long to short;
From long to long in solemn sort
Slow Spondee stalks, strong foot!, yet ill able
Ever to come up with Dactyl's trisyllable.
Iambics march from short to long.
With a leap and a bound the swift Anapests throng.
One syllable long, with one short at each side,
Amphibrachys hastes with a stately stride --
First and last being long, middle short, Amphimacer
Strikes his thundering hoofs like a proud high-bred Racer.
No comments:
Post a Comment