Forms for the Novice

I recommend reading Emily Dickinson. Pick the poems that are famous and imitate the underlying forms that she used. If you do this, you will likely be writing something close to common or hymnal measure, as Turco calls it.

The forms used by Chaucer and Byron would also be easy for someone to imitate. They offer a variety to the villanelle, sonnet and haiku choices poets usually pick because they don't know what is out there.

So to find a form, find a master and imitate the forms the master used. You will then be in good company.
 
hmmnmm said:
Now of late I've wondered about actually looking into the discipline of form....
I'm leaning towards the haiku, mainly because of what seems to be something of an enforced brevity (since I do have a rambling tendency).
If this is what you consider your weakness (rambling) then the haiku may be what you need for own disciipline.
My advice is to ignore form. Forms may be the biggest trap a novice falls into. Why? Because it looks like poetry. Something said well approachs poetry, say what want only better. Poetic tools will take thatand make even make it poetry.

Get instead books that discuss poetry, i.e. Poetry in our Time by Babette Deutche; Break Blow Burn by Camille Paglia. An excellent book also is The Sounds of Poetry by Robert Pinsky.

MungoPark3 has also given you excellent advice. Turco's book is probably the standard. And Jthserra is probably one of the few here that understand the rational of the haiku. It is just that because it looks like poetry don't make it so. Don't waste your time on it.
 
twelveoone said:
If this is what you consider your weakness (rambling) then the haiku may be what you need for own disciipline.
My advice is to ignore form. Forms may be the biggest trap a novice falls into.

All this.
the word 'trap' did flash in my mind a couple times.

For the discipline, I'm already finding that some confinement is a benefit, maybe like a zoom lens trained on one little flower.

Thanks.
 
twelveoone said:
. . . My advice is to ignore form. Forms may be the biggest trap a novice falls into. . .

a novice poet will never receive better advice than that.

miss you, number man. ;)
 
TheRainMan said:
a novice poet will never receive better advice than that.

miss you, number man. ;)

Disagree. Thoroughly. Fiercely.
In fact, sweetest, with the deepest and most sincere affection, I will go so far as to say, Screw that.

Form is playing your scales. Working in established forms makes you limber and flexible. Form teaches discipline and fluency within the mind.

Now, you don't necessarily get up in front of your concert audience and play your arpeggios and scales and finger exercises for them. But without that practice, you will not do nearly as well in concert.

More to the point, the grail of a poet should be to use form in a way that it is completely unnoticeable. The point of form is to shape a poem, not warp its natural shape, to give it rhythm and mastery, not to get in the way of the message. How can one learn the true skill of disorder unless one is willing to become fluent within order? Case in fuckin' point: Dylan Thomas' Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night. The form there is not distracting; it is part of the piece. It is essential to the piece.

Unless you learn some of the rules and practices, the standard ideas of an art form, you will not be able to break them with any real skill. Learning about rhythm, for example, allows you to see how breaking a rhythm affects your tone.

Learning to write in different rhythms - trochees, iambic forms, anapests, - teaches you to effectively use rhythm to communicate an emotion or scene more effectively. It increases your vocabulary and your skills within word choice. Once you do the practice, it comes naturally. When I write, really write, I am not sitting down and saying "okay i believe anapestic hexameter would be good here," but my endless practice, my exercises, inform my rhythm. It comes through.

Learning about meter, line length, the pentameter and the alexandrine and the sestina, teaches the skill of line division and the framing of an idea or phrase within a poem. It teaches control, discipline, efficiency in expression.

One doesn't expect the practice sessions to generate much, but in many cases, I have accidentally landed on a good piece in the middle of my workout, something very much worth keeping. I may keep it in the form, or I may shift it entirely, but within the practices are the seeds of real art.

More to the point, those skills are essential within the editing process. (editing a poem? Gods forbid! you'll ruin my Fabulous Natural Voice!) One may not think in terms of technique within a rough draft, but going back to edit, it should be a very conscious tool. Could the rhythm of this line be more effective for the scene I'm trying to set? Would using some alliteration or sibillance make this more vivid? Am I just one word, one shifted rhythm, away from the perfect line?

Without the scales we play in private, the music won't be as good.

Haiku does not teach form. Haiku teaches haiku. As such, it is a noble form, and will be excellent for learning brevity if one tends to ramble. But many forms require similar brevity and precision. Allow me to recommend my personal bible: Babette Deutch's Dictionary of Poetic Terms. Use it. Read it cover to cover. Create an altar to it. There are many others just as good; that's just my personal favorite.

Deutch's definition of poetry has been a watchword for me for many years: "A poem cannot be paraphrased without injury to its meaning." I have taken that to mean that I need to be able to defend every single word choice within a piece.

Until I started playing in the 30/30, I rarely showed my work to anyone before I knew I could do that. That didn't mean it was perfect yet; it meant that I'd paid enough attention to it to make it worth sharing with someone else. Why make someone else do simple editing work that I can get out of the way ahead of time? That way, the message can be the focus rather than the technicalities.

Order and chaos inform one another. Without one, the other is simple, incomplete. Poems need both to work.

and furthermore:

enjambment.

feh. double feh.

bijou
 
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unpredictablebijou said:
Disagree. Thoroughly. Fiercely.
In fact, sweetest, with the deepest and most sincere affection, I will go so far as to say, Screw that.

Form is playing your scales. Working in established forms makes you limber and flexible. Form teaches discipline and fluency within the mind.

Now, you don't necessarily get up in front of your concert audience and play your arpeggios and scales and finger exercises for them. But without that practice, you will not do nearly as well in concert.

More to the point, the grail of a poet should be to use form in a way that it is completely unnoticeable. The point of form is to shape a poem, not warp its natural shape, to give it rhythm and mastery, not to get in the way of the message. How can one learn the true skill of disorder unless one is willing to become fluent within order?

Unless you learn some of the rules and practices, the standard ideas of an art form, you will not be able to break them with any real skill. Learning about rhythm, for example, allows you to see how breaking a rhythm affects your tone.

Learning to write in different rhythms - trochees, iambic forms, anapests, - teaches you to effectively use rhythm to communicate an emotion or scene more effectively. It increases your vocabulary and your skills within word choice. Once you do the practice, it comes naturally. When I write, really write, I am not sitting down and saying "okay i believe anapestic hexameter would be good here," but my endless practice, my exercises, inform my rhythm. It comes through.

Learning about meter, line length, the pentameter and the alexandrine and the sestina, teaches the skill of line division and the framing of an idea or phrase within a poem. It teaches control, discipline, efficiency in expression.

One doesn't expect the practice sessions to generate much, but in many cases, I have accidentally landed on a good piece in the middle of my workout, something very much worth keeping. I may keep it in the form, or I may shift it entirely, but within the practices are the seeds of real art.

More to the point, those skills are essential within the editing process. (editing a poem? Gods forbid! you'll ruin my Fabulous Natural Voice!) One may not think in terms of technique within a rough draft, but going back to edit, it should be a very conscious tool. Could the rhythm of this line be more effective for the scene I'm trying to set? Would using some alliteration or sibillance make this more vivid? Am I just one word, one shifted rhythm, away from the perfect line?

Without the scales we play in private, the music won't be as good.

Haiku does not teach form. Haiku teaches haiku. As such, it is a noble form, and will be excellent for learning brevity if one tends to ramble. But many forms require similar brevity and precision. Allow me to recommend my personal bible: Babette Deutch's Dictionary of Poetic Terms. Use it. Read it cover to cover. Create an altar to it. There are many others just as good; that's just my personal favorite.

Deutch's definition of poetry has been a watchword for me for many years: A poem cannot be paraphrased without injury to its meaning." I have taken that to mean that I need to be able to defend every single word choice within a piece.

Until I started playing in the 30/30, I rarely showed my work to anyone before I knew I could do that. That didn't mean it was perfect yet; it meant that I'd paid enough attention to it to make it worth sharing with someone else. Why make someone else do simple editing work that I can get out of the way ahead of time? That way, the message can be the focus rather than the technicalities.

Order and chaos inform one another. Without one, the other is simple, incomplete. Poems need both to work.

and furthermore:

enjambment.

feh. double feh.

bijou



yeah what she said
 
I love tankas, an extended haiku (?) Not that I'm teribly informed on the subject or even write proper forms, merely following structure as opposed to going deeper.

A tanka is 5,7,5,7,7.

I love it as an exercise, a scale, yes, an arpeggio. Excellent metaphor. I have found that it definitely hones my free verse.

Highly recommend it!
 
Prosodomy

hmmnmm said:
The varieties of thought here gives me a boost of optimism, not just with poetry but towards life overall. See, I like this take on the matter. I would also say the words come first, but again, I am ignorant of formal forms. Maybe I would scratch out a rambling paragraph or two, maybe the way a couple birds fluttered on the bushes. And then maybe if I knew forms, I'd see where it could be worked into a insert form here

I guess I see the worth of both ends of the spectrum - and if I could learn a little on the one end, and then be able to come back towards the middle, freely I might add, that'd be okay. Or even if no form is ever really mastered, at least work some brain muscles and then apply it elsewhere? Just wondering.

The scales analogy was really good. Being a half-assed guitar player myself, the scales/form connection came to mind. And I'll say they can definitely benefit, but I wouldn't likely record a bunch of scales and call it a song. Conversely, I might have a song that where fragments of a scale sprinkled in the right places (?) might add something nice. It's amazing how closely music and poetry correlate (or maybe it isn't amazing). There's so many ways to play the guitar, for instance... I'd speculate that John Lee Hooker didn't have a lot of scale training but on the other hand he spoke with a definitely recognizable style. Probably a weak comparison but it's the first that comes to mind.

Hmmm, had more but forgot...

That should do it for now. :D

I don't think one has to choose between words and form. And perhaps a bit of clarification of terms might help.

There are "forms" like the sonnet, the sestina, the villanelle. They contain specific rhyme schemes and a specific meter. Meter is the combination of rhythm and line length or syllable count.

There are also poetic techniques. Alliteration, for example, parallel structure, assonance, slant rhyme.

Writing a sonnet, as such, has value as an exercise. Writing within a particular meter also has value. But much of what happens with form happens retroactively, as one works on a draft. You say to yourself, there's a natural rhythm to these lines; they're mostly anapestic, which seems appropriate for the galloping rhythm I'm using in this poem about wanting to seduce Black Shanglan. But here, you notice, is a line that is quite different in meter, right in the middle of a section:

We jump, and clear the shining stream with leagues to spare...

and you say, hm. That's a whole different rhythm. Whether or not you know that it is an iambic septenary doesn't matter; that you notice its nature is what's important. So you ask yourself, in a poem that features that triadic, galloping rhythm, in lines like

...as he rolls underneath me like sinuous waves in a tropical tide
and we ride here in tandem conjoined at the level of muscle and bone...


you ask, well, does the action I'm describing, the jump, merit a shift in meter? Does it communicate the way a horse shortens his stride, just before he prepares to clear an obstacle, or for that matter the way a man will shift his rhythm as he approaches climax? And you also notice that there's an internal rhyme created by "tide" and "ride", and you ask yourself: self? Is that a distraction, or does it actually assist the way the lines roll into each other in a sort of enjambment that echoes the steady stride of a horse?

Ideas, words, always come first. Craft, form, technique, assist in two ways: practicing them makes better words happen in first drafts, and knowing their function makes it easier to create an effective final version.

I should say something cutesy and self-deprecating here like, "that's just my personal very humble opinion" or whatever, but I'm not going to.

again, with all affection,

bijou
 
unpredictablebijou said:
. . .
Form is playing your scales . . .


apples and oranges.

the thread was directed at "novice" poets, not advanced poets.

99% of the novice poets i've seen who begin with rhymed form never get past it.

:rose:
 
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TheRainMan said:
apples and oranges.

the thread was directed at "novice" poets, not advanced poets.

99% of the novice poets i've seen who begin with rhymed form never get past it.

:rose:


Novice poets in particular should spend their time studying AND writing in every possible form. Those who don't eventually move past form into function, well, I'd say mean things about them but they might be watching.

Y'know what's worser even than a poet who never moves past rhymed unmetered couplets? A novice poet who disdains form entirely, believing that it is pointless, and claims that as long as his deepest and most cliched feelings have line divisions, he's written a poem. At least the former is attempting to craft something. Not that I'm defending the former. I will beat him up, even. He probably writes all in caps, longhand on yellow legal pads with a bic pen.

love you too, darling.
bijou
 
unpredictablebijou said:
I don't think one has to choose between words and form. And perhaps a bit of clarification of terms might help.

There are "forms" like the sonnet, the sestina, the villanelle. They contain specific rhyme schemes and a specific meter. Meter is the combination of rhythm and line length or syllable count.

There are also poetic techniques. Alliteration, for example, parallel structure, assonance, slant rhyme.

Writing a sonnet, as such, has value as an exercise. Writing within a particular meter also has value. But much of what happens with form happens retroactively, as one works on a draft. You say to yourself, there's a natural rhythm to these lines; they're mostly anapestic, which seems appropriate for the galloping rhythm I'm using in this poem about wanting to seduce Black Shanglan. But here, you notice, is a line that is quite different in meter, right in the middle of a section:

We jump, and clear the shining stream with leagues to spare...

and you say, hm. That's a whole different rhythm. Whether or not you know that it is an iambic septenary doesn't matter; that you notice its nature is what's important. So you ask yourself, in a poem that features that triadic, galloping rhythm, in lines like

...as he rolls underneath me like sinuous waves in a tropical tide
and we ride here in tandem conjoined at the level of muscle and bone...


you ask, well, does the action I'm describing, the jump, merit a shift in meter? Does it communicate the way a horse shortens his stride, just before he prepares to clear an obstacle, or for that matter the way a man will shift his rhythm as he approaches climax? And you also notice that there's an internal rhyme created by "tide" and "ride", and you ask yourself: self? Is that a distraction, or does it actually assist the way the lines roll into each other in a sort of enjambment that echoes the steady stride of a horse?

Ideas, words, always come first. Craft, form, technique, assist in two ways: practicing them makes better words happen in first drafts, and knowing their function makes it easier to create an effective final version.

I should say something cutesy and self-deprecating here like, "that's just my personal very humble opinion" or whatever, but I'm not going to.

again, with all affection,

bijou

This is an excellent explanation of the potential benefit of writing in a traditional meter or rhyme scheme (or repetition, etc.). If one invests the rhythm or rhyme with meaning that furthers the poem, form poetry can be wonderful to read; certainly as effective as free verse. Of course that's a pretty sophisticated level of writing. It's not easy to acheive, but the novice writer can also learn discipline and get a good sense for shaping and line breaks by practicing in the forms.

And Pat's argument is a good one, but I guess I feel that if someone can't ever get past rhymed verse, they wouldn't necessarily do such a great job with free verse, either. Bad (or mediocre) poetry is not improved by ruling out practicing in a major genre of the art.

I don't think form poetry is a lesser version of good poetry. There are many respected poetry journals that publish only form poetry, and look at some of the great writers throughout history and across cultures who have written in the forms.

I agree with MungoPark: Lewis Turco's Book of Forms is an important tool of the trade with its cogent descriptions of hundreds of forms as well as good explanations of the basics of rhythm, rhyming, and poetic techniques. I read my copy around once a week. And I love Bijou's idea of just opening the book and finding a form and trying to write it. I actually find that sort of thing fun. It's not for everyone, but I wouldn't dismiss it out of hand.

I think it's a good idea for a new writer to read the forms, read some of the great poems (older and recent) in a sonnet or villenelle or terzanelle for example. Try to write a few poems in a form that appeals to you. You might really like it or find it a useful learning tool. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Great explication, Ms. Bijou. Precise. :)
 
haiga...I want to try this form at some point..

I have been waiting for neo or one a illustrated poet to try this one...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3hfnhqWDxl4

Haiga: A Definition

Traditional Japanese haiga involved brush art work coupled with a haiku poem done in brush calligraphy. Like the haiku poem, the focus of haiga is in simplicity of expression.

Digital art-haiku is one form of modern haiga. Other forms include photo-haiku [haiku attached to a photographic image] and all modern forms of art coupled with haiku. Of course, traditional haiga is still practiced.

Just as the haiku form often contains a juxtaposition between two of its lines and a third line, so does or can modern haiga contain a juxtaposition between the haiku itself and the digital art work.In short, the art work does not necessarily directly represent the images presented in the haiku.

If you would like to see examples of other forms of modern and traditional haiga, simply search the internet with the following key terms: haiga, japanese, haiku.
 
Angeline said:
. . . Bad (or mediocre) poetry is not improved by ruling out practicing in a major genre of the art . . .

i agree with that.

i just don't think novice writers should do it, that's all. :) good rhymed and/or form poetry is very, very hard to pull off. it's best left to the advanced, i think.

and hi, Princess of Maine. nice shoes.


:rose:
 
TheRainMan said:
i agree with that.

i just don't think novice writers should do it, that's all. :) good rhymed and/or form poetry is very, very hard to pull off. it's best left to the advanced, i think.

and hi, Princess of Maine. nice shoes.


:rose:

Thank you. I won't be able to wear them much longer: it's getting fall-like here already. Lows in the 40s the past few nights.

It is hard to write, I agree. But how do you improve at it if you don't practice? Everyone needs to start somewhere. I guess I'd also agree that the "worst" bad poetry I ever read is usually rhymed. :cool:

:rose:
 
Angeline said:
It is hard to write, I agree. But how do you improve at it if you don't practice? Everyone needs to start somewhere. I guess I'd also agree that the "worst" bad poetry I ever read is usually rhymed. :cool:

:rose:

the "worst" bad poetry is usually rhymed because that's what novice poets usually write. :) -- they write bad free verse too, jusy not as much of it. but yes, almost all of us write poorly at the start, no matter what we write.

everyone does need to start somewhere. the question is, where?

i think 1201 made a great point up top when he said -- Forms may be the biggest trap a novice falls into. Why? Because it looks like poetry.

i think novice poets would be better off reading Hemingway, Steinbeck, writers who write poetic prose -- to learn that content should be paramount.

you need to move south. back to Joisey maybe. you could wear those shoes until late November here.

:rose:
 
TheRainMan said:
apples and oranges.

the thread was directed at "novice" poets, not advanced poets.

99% of the novice poets i've seen who begin with rhymed form never get past it.

:rose:

in a roundabout way, this reminds me...

i was working with my three and four year olds yesterday. their task was to draw a picture and then i would help them write a story that related to the picture they drew.

one of the children drew a completely unrecognisable picture of himself. to me it looked like scribble. to his parents and other adults and even some of the other children in the classroom, it looked like scribble.

i could have sat beside him and given him the basics for drawing his face i.e. what shape is your face, what shape is your nose, ears, eyes etc...

but something stopped me from telling the child how he should draw his art. needless to say, it was not good as a 'parent pleaser' to show them this one piece of their child's work for the session. (Conform child! Conform to our expectations of you, of art that we would like to recognise!)

i think each poet, be they novice or not, should write initially in the way that comes most naturally to them. some will notice iambic pentametre, some will notice free verse in the sound and shape of their poems. i think we should encourage novice poets to continue in their natural way, but also encourage them to use forms as help to exercise their poetic muscles. they can transfer the lessons learnt through form poetry, back into their own natural poetry writing... best of both worlds?

for me, i write the way i talk. sometimes i rush my words, sometimes i think them out before i speak, sometimes i pause halfway through... my own voice leans naturally towards free verse. but free verse is so much more than just writing the way i talk. there's plenty of technique to learn to add into free verse poems. all the things mentioned in previous posts for a start, metre, rhyme, alliteration, assonance, enjambment, not to mention poetic language.

i think a good exercise for a novice/any poet, is to write one poem about one particular thing and then go on and write a second and third and fourth poem about the exact same thing, forcing them to write beyond the basic first choice words that come to mind.

:rose:
 
Angeline said:
I feel that if someone can't ever get past rhymed verse, they wouldn't necessarily do such a great job with free verse, either. Bad (or mediocre) poetry is not improved by ruling out practicing in a major genre of the art.


Perhaps that's really all i've been trying to say. It may not fix anything, but it can't hurt to learn the range of the instrument. I will always be a most regrettable, painfully disappointing 'cello player, but it did help a little bit for me to practice the basics.

Gods, i love this place! People actually arguing about poetry! Can ya believe it? I really thought I'd have to die to go there.

bijou
 
In thinking about it, I will add this modification:

Novice poets should never, never do anything with rhyme.

I differentiate that from form, meter, technique and so on.

No rhyming. Until you've written at least 500 pages of something else.

How's that for a concession, Sprinkles?

hearts, and that sort of affair,
bijou
 
wildsweetone said:
. . .

best of both worlds? . . .

you are a natural diplomat.

and one smart Kiwi.

:rose:



unpredictablebijou said:
In thinking about it, I will add this modification:

Novice poets should never, never do anything with rhyme.

I differentiate that from form, meter, technique and so on.

No rhyming. Until you've written at least 500 pages of something else.

How's that for a concession, Sprinkles?

it's a start. :D

:kiss:
 
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