MADNESS IN SEARCH OF

[MrMrsMrsMr]

This is a good time on the forum. We go through long droughts with few writers interested beyond the standard Lit wanky-spanky mediocrity*. I don't know about the rest of you but I stay here because I need to be around others who want to write and explore poetry together. Outside of this forum there are very few people in my life who share this interest (obsession). And right now we've a really good group writing together. I'm very grateful for you delightful misfits.


*Not that there's anything wrong with that, but we can do so much better.

Thanks for sticking around Angeline. You give us all a safe space for poetry to happen. I feel my writing is improving because of the contributors to this thread. I don’t agree with everyone and everything but love you all for stirring up some syrupy spank free poetry.

 

[42BelowsBack]

Still gleaning from Sexton’s cerebral Masturbator, I think a poem like a bus needs a driver, a fundamental idea. Sexton matched her idea to a vehicle, a Ballard. It was a tight fit.

Tzara on forms, we’re all fucked

 

[42BelowsBack]

A small brain storm in a tiny tea cup.

Can a line of stanzas be individual poems within a poem? The issue in my mind, how would I keep everything linked?
The answer is of course yes. I suspect forms facilitate this. Even in a free write line or verse, free written poems benefit from internal rules. To misquote @Angeline a free write risks being sloppily written.

Another non amazing moment here. Move along.

 

[42BelowsBack]

A backwards horse and cart.

In parallel juxtaposition with Billy Colins, paradelle idea. It strikes me form can be intentionally chosen to amplify an idea in a poem. The horse being the form, the idea being the cart.

Example:

SWAN LAKE

The occasion a prince’s birthday love’s hunting bolt arrives,
The occasion a prince’s birthday love’s hunting bolt arrives,
A swan beautiful wears love’s crown on a lake—
A swan beautiful wears love’s crown on a lake—
Love’s bolt arrives hunting a beautiful swan on a lake
the occasion wears love’s crown —a prince’s birthday

In disguise, in tears, she pirouettes seeking his attention
In disguise, in tears, she pirouettes seeking his attention
Dusk— alone love’s prince falls, a princess lies at his feet.
Dusk— alone love’s prince falls, a princess lies at his feet.
His attention in pirouettes, she in tears in disguise alone
seeking love’s prince. Dusk falls. A princess lies at his feet.

Doomed his mother demands his love he choose. An evil spell.
Doomed his mother demands his love he choose. An evil spell.
Odette's true love deceived, the heart breaks. Odile is revealed.
Odette's true love deceived, the heart breaks. Odile is revealed.
Doomed, Odette’s true love deceived. An evil The heart breaks.
His love his mother demands he choose, Odile is spell revealed.

—a prince’s birthday, the occasion lies at his feet, love’s bolt arrives.
His attention in pirouettes. His love his mother demands he choose.
Odile is revealed, an evil spell hunting a beautiful swan on a lake—
A princess breaks, deceived in seeking love’s prince.
Odette’s doomed love the true heart tears. Dusk falls.
She alone in disguise wears love’s crown.


Scroll up in linked thread to find @Tzara’s post on a Paradelle

Note, the above is the final edit of an earlier posted effort.

 

[MrMrsMrsMr]

This place is amazing, some more posts on forms, thanks @butters et al for the clarification on Haiku.

I don’t know if I got this right but here goes,

Owl hoots somewhere near
blue moth wings against water
A bat slips across—

Thoughts regarding, choosing a form to dish a poem:

Online, Choosing Sushi

Bird looks at a leaf
leaf looks at bird in the sky
Fish catfishing bird

Which one do I like?

Cat fish fishing bird
leaf peers at bird in the sky
bird looks at a leaf

or—

Catfish fishing bird
bird looks at leaf in the sky
a cat, looks at bird

 

[42BelowsBack]

Poem completed.

My ice cream fell
well it floated down stream
cream slipping away

In this poem movement is particular: fell, floated, down, stream, slipping, away

Innocence lost.

My ice cream fell, well
it floated down stream
cream slipping away a
day flattened in smooth
satin silk evanescence.

 

[Angeline]

Poem completed.


Innocence lost.

My ice cream fell, well
it floated down stream
cream slipping away a
day flattened in smooth
satin silk evanescence.

This works really well imo. It's dynamic with all that movement and the rhyme is smooth: it helps the flow and is unobtrusive. And what I most like is that it's contradictory. Ice cream doesn't fall, it floats, it slips in a day that's flattened but smooth, a smooth disappearance. To me it echoes the mixed bag of feelings that accompany loss of innocence.

Maybe I'm reading too much into it? Mea culpa: I just had two cups of coffee.

 

[42BelowsBack]

This works really well imo. It's dynamic with all that movement and the rhyme is smooth: it helps the flow and is unobtrusive. And what I most like is that it's contradictory. Ice cream doesn't fall, it floats, it slips in a day that's flattened but smooth, a smooth disappearance. To me it echoes the mixed bag of feelings that accompany loss of innocence.

Maybe I'm reading too much into it? Mea culpa: I just had two cups of coffee.

Coffee good. You nailed it.

 

[42BelowsBack]

It strikes me, having an opinion is like hitting a baseball. Is it possible to write a poem, that is poetic about something you are passionately opinionated about?

Many would say yes, but, isn’t that by definition a rant?

 

[Angeline]

It strikes me, having an opinion is like hitting a baseball. Is it possible to write a poem, that is poetic about something you are passionately opinionated about?

Many would say yes, but, isn’t that by definition a rant?

I think outright opining in a poem is not such a good idea. I've never liked being lectured at (not even in lecture halls lol). It's definitely not something I want to encounter when I'm reading what proposes to be a poem. It's the equivalent of someone grabbing on your arm when they're trying to talk to you. Besides there are better ways to get a point across like narrative, analogy, metaphor.

But what about this elephant in the room: is it ok to break rules when one writes a form poem? I say yes: I write in the service of the poem and sometimes that means deviating from the rules in a form poem. Yes, one needs to know the rules. You can't deviate from something you don't know. As my college Shakespeare prof once said "you can hypothesize that King Lear is floating in space on an umbilical cord, but you'd better be able to back it up with evidence from the play." (No I never hypothesized that!)

I say try writing a form poem following every rule. See how it works. Then if you find bending things here and there makes your poem better, do what you must. Look at all the ways poets have reimagined the sonnet. The important thing though imho is to learn the form as originally intended before you start changing things up.

 

[_Land]

you can hypothesize that King Lear is floating in space on an umbilical cord, but you'd better be able to back it up with evidence from the play."

The Cord of Nothing
A Villanelle for Lear in Orbit

You are the shadow of a king unmoored,
"Nothing will come of nothing," echoes still.
Adrift, alone, and tethered by a cord.

The stars bear witness, vast and unexplored,
Your crown now frost, your voice the wind’s own will.
You are the shadow of a king unmoored.

No fool to jester now—just voids ignored,
Planets recede, and memory won’t distill.
Adrift, alone, and tethered by a cord.

“Let me not be mad,” you once implored
But silence rings where daughters should fulfill.
You are the shadow of a king unmoored.

The throne was brittle, love a failed accord,
The storm outside now storm within until
You drift, alone, and tethered by a cord.

The gods are deaf, their orbits long and bored.
You beg the heavens, “Pray you, undo this button,” still.
You are the shadow of a king unmoored,
Adrift, alone, and tethered by a cord.

 

[Angeline]

Did someone say deviate? Yessss!

In Which the Poet Writes a Poorly Constructed Sonnet
in Defense of Deviance

Can form poetry be quite deviant?
Can a ten-footed iamb be kinky,
A sestina a sultry miscreant,
Who refuses all rules, downright slinky?
Is personification offensive
If a triolet sports glitter in drag?
Does my worshipping feet make you pensive?
Shall my villanelle be shushed with a gag?
Oh let's bring on the ruffles and leather
And lube up my ghazal in scented goo:
I take poems with a large side of pleasure
And joyfully recommend this to you.
Poems are great when they're a straightforward ride,
But more fun slutting on the wild side.

 

[MrMrsMrsMr]

In Which the Poet Writes a Poorly Constructed Sonnet
in Defense of Deviance

Can form poetry be quite deviant?
Can a ten-footed iamb be kinky,
A sestina a sultry miscreant,
Who refuses all rules, downright slinky?
Is personification offensive
If a triolet sports glitter in drag?
Does my worshipping feet make you pensive?
Shall my villanelle be shushed with a gag?
Oh let's bring on the ruffles and leather
And lube up my ghazal in scented goo:
I take poems with a large side of pleasure
And joyfully recommend this to you.
Poems are great when they're a straightforward ride,
But more fun slutting on the wild side.

WHOOP WHOOP! Love it!

 

[MrMrsMrsMr]

A simplistic view on parasitic poems.

The poet’s poem always reflects a truth about the poet. Sometimes self serving. Sometimes brilliant. Sometimes skill fully written. Often delusional. I can love a poem because it is fuggly. Perfectly fuggly poems are stunning. There is always a imaginative runt in every litter. I should know.

What is the difference between being engaged and parasitic? Perhaps the difference between being a parasitic poet and being engaged is the source poet’s invitation to interact with thier idea. Like last year’s monthly poem suggests, including threads like this. All are open invitations to interact. I appreciate that.

Conversely a parasitic poem / poet intentionally leeches off another poet’s poem. I love IGNORING them. Thanks Lit for the iggy button.

But! Does that mean a found poem is a parasitic poem?

IMHO the difference is, a found poem is sourced from intentionally un-poetic writing. A found poem is a deviation from the original intent.

A found poem is a deviant form

 

[_Land]

A simplistic view on parasitic poems.

The poet’s poem always reflects a truth about the poet. Sometimes self serving. Sometimes brilliant. Sometimes skill fully written. Often delusional. I can love a poem because it is fuggly. Perfectly fuggly poems are stunning. There is always a imaginative runt in every litter. I should know.

FUgly

I wrote this poem
in the dark
with my knees

screaming

because sitting on talent too long
makes it numb?; or maybe just emotionally constipated, you know like a Virgo dating a clown.

The rhyme scheme
got drunk
and made out with syntax

oops

now they’re texting at 2am
about meaninglessness:! and trauma; with no metaphor for protection except maybe, duct tape and a vibrator?

This line’s
not
going anywhere

exactly

like my ex’s mixtape
entitled: "Feelings but Make It About Me" ft. Daddy Issues in B minor!!!

I tried to edit
with a scalpel
but it bled

forever

so I stapled the bleeding to a napkin
& called it art; the critics clapped, one sobbed, and I got banned from Applebee’s?

The poem
wore fishnets
on its vowels

why

because consonants are repressed
& sometimes a semicolon just wants to be spanked? don’t judge.

I gave it structure.
It gave me
the finger.

respect.

honestly this is
less a poem than a tantrum—a jazz solo on a kazoo with feelings in a leotard.

 

[NivKay]

Sorry, coming in late to this discussion, but I’ve always tried to take a leaf out of Samuel Beckett’s book. He said once that the title should never reveal what the text is about, but should, by some tangential way, point in the opposite direction or take a neutral path. Such as ‘Happy Days’ or ‘The Lost Ones’ or ‘Waiting for Godot’.

Titles, to me, tend to be frosted windows, they let in light, but vision is blurred.

Take Carol Ann Duffy’s ‘Shooting Stars’ the title suggests some hopeful interlude, but you read and you realise, she means, shooting stars (The Jewish people).

Jacques Rancierre has written elsewhere about whether it is possible to represent everything, such as pain. Kafka said that metaphors can’t ever capture the reality we want to portray. Titles then, at least in my mind, should be Beckettian. If they can’t capture the thing-in-itself, then we go the other way.

Herein ends my catechism, as Falstaff would say

 

[MrMrsMrsMr]

Lie to me I am hopeful, that advanced sufficiently breaks with the Ghazal radif rhyme requirement.


Silence

You wrote, the Vandals were lovers of romance. Silence.
In sandals, I abhorred your hairy toed slam dance. Silence.
You knew, in love’s inroads we could build our own Rome.
A relationship in frescos painted over happenstance. Silence.
In the city of light, we climbed the Eiffel Tower. My hand in your hand.
Your roads always led back to Rome, even after the South of France. Silence.
One day I woke broken in cubits cut. Our mosaics lay separated,
You said, love is a colosseum, a bedroom, a ritual trance. Silence.
In the aftermath, in the silence of your making, I embraced your lions.
With wetted tongue I divorced your form with advanced silence.

 

[42BelowsBack]

I wonder if unequal syllables constitute imperfect rhymes?

Romance/dance verses Romance/fragrance?
Conversely Dance happenstance rhymes perfect to me??
Is happenstance/France a perfect rhyme?
France/trance/advanced does jar.

 

[42BelowsBack]

Sorry, coming in late to this discussion, but I’ve always tried to take a leaf out of Samuel Beckett’s book. He said once that the title should never reveal what the text is about, but should, by some tangential way, point in the opposite direction or take a neutral path. Such as ‘Happy Days’ or ‘The Lost Ones’ or ‘Waiting for Godot’.

Titles, to me, tend to be frosted windows, they let in light, but vision is blurred.

Take Carol Ann Duffy’s ‘Shooting Stars’ the title suggests some hopeful interlude, but you read and you realise, she means, shooting stars (The Jewish people).

Jacques Rancierre has written elsewhere about whether it is possible to represent everything, such as pain. Kafka said that metaphors can’t ever capture the reality we want to portray. Titles then, at least in my mind, should be Beckettian. If they can’t capture the thing-in-itself, then we go the other way.

Herein ends my catechism, as Falstaff would say

Brilliant. Thanks @NivKay

 

[42BelowsBack]

I had this unfinished poem floating around. It appears pg 1 in this thread. Ironically, I was struggling with the title. In comparing NivKay and Tzara’s posts on titles I realized they were saying the same thing in different perspectives. With that possibility in mind I completed the poem and worked out its title.

Man Management.

Traffic lights, indecision Traffic lights, indecision,
red green goes orange red greenOrangeRed
Green separated from the rev counter in my
mind, loss of traction, bumper to bumper,
the red light burning in my head.

Compare the same poem with a different title.

Road Rage.

Traffic lights, indecision Traffic lights, indecision,
red green goes orange red greenOrangeRed
Green separated from the rev counter in my
mind, loss of traction, bumper to bumper,
the red light burning in my head.

The power of the title allows the same poem to imply different meanings, to a careful reader. In my onion anyway.

 

[42BelowsBack]

In Which the Poet Writes a Poorly Constructed Sonnet
in Defense of Deviance

Can form poetry be quite deviant?
Can a ten-footed iamb be kinky,
A sestina a sultry miscreant,
Who refuses all rules, downright slinky?
Is personification offensive
If a triolet sports glitter in drag?
Does my worshipping feet make you pensive?
Shall my villanelle be shushed with a gag?
Oh let's bring on the ruffles and leather
And lube up my ghazal in scented goo:
I take poems with a large side of pleasure
And joyfully recommend this to you.
Poems are great when they're a straightforward ride,
But more fun slutting on the wild side.

Deviate? I am absolutely going to cheat! SWAN LAKE my broken paradelle matinee version haha

 

[MrMrsMrsMr]

A Druid Isles Haiku

Woods,
Autumn,
Sun peers through
Oaks in acorns
ritual summer leaves upon the ground.

 

[MrMrsMrsMr]

"Euclid, the mathematician of classical times, considered the number series 1, 2, 3, 4 to have mystical significance because its sum is 10, so he dignified it with a name of its own - Tetractys. The tetractys could be Britain's answer to the haiku. Its challenge is to express a complete thought, profound or comic, witty or wise, within the narrow compass of twenty syllables." - Ray Stebbing


Not a Tetractys in 17 syllables

Triskele

Spell
Druids
Sun, Earth, Sky,
lite spiraling
Autumnal ritual leaves.

 

[SmilingLez]

It seems like people reading poems/prose believe the words reflect the artist's emotions. However when it comes to story telling, fiction is the default.

Fiction, not truth;
Words don’t reveal who I am,
Judge the tale, not me.

 

[Angeline]

It seems like people reading poems/prose believe the words reflect the artist's emotions. However when it comes to story telling, fiction is the default.

Fiction, not truth;
Words don’t reveal who I am,
Judge the tale, not me.

Great point. People do tend to believe poems are true and the narrator is actually the poet. For me, fiction is a tool as much as any other in the poetry toolkit. I have no problem inventing if feel it'll make the poem more interesting. Most of my favorite poets are good storytellers, not prose but a strong narrative element in their writing.