Ella Hansen writes:
Because of an abundance of homework (Tuesday’s translation for the harder of my two Latin classes is four or five handwritten pages), the next chapter of In Enigmate is progressing very slowly; I do hope, however, to post it later this month. Until then, poetry must again suffice: this time, more recent.
***
Paronomasia
(Sept. 2009)
O poet, my friend, you are filled with conceit;
You think yourself finer and fleeter;
Until you have deigned, though, to go on your feet,
You never will travel a metre.
***
Angel of Music
(July 2009)
A sullen, surly bell; a slamming door;
A rush of footsteps in the stony hall;
A paleness stills the softly-drifting dust
Into the ages hence. A single note
Falls, and now ripples, now recedes, now splits
Its chime, chorded and arched and steel-strong,
Now thins to thread, faints in itself…
Somewhere, the princess plaits her jewelled hair;
Somewhere, the glistening knight parades his steed;
Somewhere, the sage declaims victoriously.
Here, though, the window rings a single star.
***
Tracking the Muse
I found your footsteps in the sand,
Your path through grassy vales;
I felt your heartbeat in the land
Beneath the well-worn trails;
I heard your laughter in the rain,
Your whisper in the wood;
I ran to catch you in the lane;
Ah, if I only could—!
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Posted at 12:15 am EST on the 5th of October 2009 by E. M. Hansen. Under Poetry as Ballad Stanza, Blank Verse There are 5 replies. |
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Clever, beautiful, and stale, respectively.
Sometimes I find it helpful to assign colors, or better, musical timbres– not just to the sound of a syllable (that’s easy), but to the many concepts referenced or evoked by a particular word. Be careful of a word or phrase that is likely to lead the mind of a reader into an attitude or emotion contrary to or unhelpful of your timbre. In a short poem like this, dialectical tone is the essential and nonnegotiable element, which everything else must serve. It can’t be sacrificed for a lovely alliteration or even a flavorful or contrasting idea. To specify: your mysterious, whispering tone in “Angel of Music” (which I really liked), is not well served by “slamming”, or “steel-strong”. Perhaps if there was more space you could get away with those harsher colors, but here I feel like they only confuse the tone. Also examine “splits” and “declaims”. Concision of length forces concentration of ideas, as they say.
“A paleness stills the softly-drifting dust” was the best line in the post. Very good ear.
Is the first poem written to the second one?
Master McCord: Thank you for your helpful criticism, especially on ‘Angel of Music,’ which was largely unedited. I agree that ’steel’ — added at the last minute to correct a metrical error — is inconsistent with the tone; I’ll consider re-phrasings of that and the other words that you pointed out. I also agree that ‘Tracking the Muse’ is stale; it is an uninspired reflection on my general lack of inspiration, and as such probably not worth posting.
Miss Blake: No, the poems are only connected in that they were written within about six months of each other. ‘Paronomasia’ is instructing a poet to write metrically, but ‘Angel of Music’ is already metric (roughly blank verse).
I would really appreciate any other suggestions on ‘Angel of Music’; I may decide to revise it and, eventually, post it again.
Your poem Paronomasia seems to be some sort of criticism of free verse. Do you believe that free verse cannot function as poetry? Or, are you merely stating that metered poetry goes further with the general public? I myself am a bit of a believer in free verse, though I still love writing metric poetry. I believe that if a free verse poem can describe some part of the world truthfully to the reader, then it counts as poetry. I’d be interested to know your position on this.
First, it’s not intended as any kind of criticism or statement. Lighthearted word-play (with ‘conceit,’ ‘feet,’ and ‘metre’) was my only goal. In my explanation to Miss Blake, I should have said rather that the poem is instructing a poet how to write metrically; but the content is not important.
Second, I think that rhythm is the foundation of poetry. I don’t have time tonight, though, to explain my position in detail.