30 Poems in 30 Days 2009: Day Five
September 5, 2009 by John Hewitt
Poetry is meant to be read aloud. There are exceptions to this rule, but those types of poems are experimental, not typical. Poetry began before written language. It was part of the nature of pre-written storytelling. Oral storytellers used such things as rhyme and alliteration to make it easier for them to remember and pass on their stories. Just as importantly, such sound repetitions were pleasing to the listeners.
Rhyme has gone out of style in English language poetry because English is not well suited to rhyme. A language like Spanish, which uses the masculine “o” and the feminine “a” to end many words, is suitable to end rhymes. English has no set pattern or guideline for the ending of words, so when you are trying to find rhymes for a word, your choices are limited. This creates a pattern of predictability. People know what word is coming next. This was good for storytellers who had to remember their poems, but it is less appealing to an audience that does not want to know what comes next.
I am not here to bash rhyme though. Rhyme has a place in poetry. Successful contemporary poets use rhyme in creative ways. They use internal rhyme (rhymed words that do not appear at the end of the line), assonance (words with similar vowel sounds but different consonant sounds), and spaced rhyme (line endings that rhyme, but are separated by two or more other lines). These are just a few of the methods people use to create interesting and pleasing sounds within their poetry. I’ll discuss a few more in detail as we go through the month.
The point is that the use of sound is important in poetry. Sometimes your goal is to please, and at other times it may be to make people feel uncomfortable. Whatever your goal, you should pay attention to the sounds of your poems, whether they rhyme or not.
Today’s Poetry Prompt
Pick three words that you absolutely love the sound of and set out to use them in your poem.
Judged
She does not know how to play the guitar
But people want to please her
She doesn’t tie knots
And prefers silky to sweatpants
She steals as she breathes
Collecting ornaments for her hotel room
She slices through your life
And you find yourself all alone
Getting dinner from a vending machine
Spending time in the bathroom with the TV on
Taking horse pills with a glass of scotch
Dodging neighbors as the hurl themselves at your car
But in the end when you face the crowd
You can’t help but smile
Even as she drives away
In someone else’s car
John,
This post has come quite late.
Now I am not complaining,
but I’ve sprouted a stem on my head
and my wife say my checks have turned
a light shade of orange
and by the faint sqweeking I’d say,
there are mice at my feet..
I will post a poem I wrote several years ago, as it seems to fit the spirit of your prompt. Before you cry foul, please note that I today and posted it as a response to Sheer on day 2′s thread.
The News just came in from the Neighboring town,
A place Notably Named New Nottingham Town,
That the Nimble Newt, Ned, and his friend Nasty Nick,
Just Nabbed the Number Nine and they did it real quick.
Now nobody knows why this Ned and friend Nick
Would try to pull off this Nefarious trick
But they did it at Noon when, as everyone knows,
The Number Nine Naps to clear up his Nose.
With Nary a Noise, while the Number Nine slept,
Holding Nothing but Noodles and Needles, they crept
By Nooks where Nicknacks of Nameless Nymphs prayed
And into the room, where our Number Nine stayed.
They placed the wet Noodle around the Nine’s Neck,
And they sewed it all up with the Needle right quick.
By the Nape of the Neck, they stitched it real tight
Then they Nudged him awake, and they gave him a fright.
(written Sept 1998)
Thank Goodness
My homepage has snapshots of world news
I watch CNA and listen to CNN
I am at home on Sundays
With my nose in a nook of a book
My baffled relatives wonder
Why I watch such boring stuff
Yet is so-not up-to-date with the
Oh-so-popular whimsical and lighthearted
Taiwanese romance novels
(I wonder too)
I can hold a lucid conversation
On Jane Austen or the Bronte sisters
We can have a lively discussion over
Literary works or philosophical treatises
But my extended relatives
Would rather talk about the psychic
In some variety shows or
Rank the actor’s looks in the Leap of Love
While my parents aren’t typical Asian parents
That is such a bane of life
Of a notable statistics
In our population
But I am still plagued with
Mundane relatives
Who has the same opinions
And share the same experiences
Which they repeat over and over again
Yet know nothing else
And care even less about anything beyond
And certainly not about Obama and his policies
(Although hopefully, they might at least know his race)
Isn’t it dreary that
People can be so narrow minded
Shouldn’t there be more
Or perhaps it really doesn’t matter?
Yes, perhaps life can be simpler
Perhaps we should
Smile at little things of everyday normalcy
And feel warm and hopeful
And believe that something wonderful
Can sprout from the most mundane occurrences
But finding joy in simple things
Is not the same as being simple
Just because I watch news and read books
Doesn’t make me difficult
Just because I never believe what I hear
Without my brain being engaged along the way
And my rationality coming along for the ride
Doesn’t make me peculiar
Yes, I don’t enjoy sentimental soap operas
And have little patience with Korean sappy flicks
Yes, I don’t have an active social life
But I live the way I want
(And what is wrong with that?)
Yes, I believe in being happy
I just don’t believe
In superstition
Yes, I don’t pin my faith
And dreams
On drama serials
Yes, I don’t believe in living
In pursuit of
Cold hard cash
Yes, I actually see integrity
And not paper qualification
As the worth of a person
Yes, I believe in working hard
We only live once
So live the way we want
Yes, I am different
From my aunts
And many cousins
Yes, they know
I am different
Yes, you know
I am different
Yes, I know
I am different
Yes, I am different
Thank goodness
I am different.
Sorry James. Weekends are hard to get moving on.
@John:
Why be appolgetic,
when you could be apoplectic?
It’s more common these days!
Try the common angry retort:
“Get off my back, man!
If you don’t like it, piss off!”
With age comes wisdom,
at least for some,
and with wisdom, understanding
to know when it best
to humbly show defference,
or to push and make a difference.
@sheer:
It seems obvious to me that much feeling went into your poem.
The frustration of being misunderstood runs deep.
The anger engendered by such rubbing and ribbing
coming from those so close is real, it is raw.
But to vent it could hurt the ones we ought to love.
And so the frustration.
Because of this observation,
It is with trepidation that I suggest a few small changes.
1. Please correct the grammar in the two places where you do not have correct subject verb agreement. When I read “I … is” and “[They] … has” the poem came to a crashing halt. These were in the middle of the line, and a stop was not appropriate.
2. This onhe is more artistic. The use of the Yes at the beginning of each statement is strong, and should remain. However, two of the statemnts are negative, and demand a “No”
They are:
Yes, I don’t pin my faith
And dreams
On drama serials
Yes, I don’t believe in living
In pursuit of
Cold hard cash
Consider changine to No, or better yet, re work the statements to be possitive and keep the yes.
For example:
Yes, I believe it’s foolish
to live in pursuit
of cold hard cash.
(the solution/correction to the other one is not so obvious.)
Best of luck, and Good Job.
@all:
Hairy fishnuts to all, and to all a good fright!
Quicksand
His supple lips
Stood out in a plethora of people
I watched in fascination
As he moved,
Careened around corners
Tripped himself in a line
Of quicksand
Sinking in, hands opened
Towards the becoming
They all stopped to stare
Crowds unabashedly gawking
At this man
Screaming in a moment
Of insanity
Listing reasons we should listen
But then stopping help
When others reached out
Silence cascades over this cityscape
The man chest-deep
Turns supple lips up
Addressing public fascination
A plethora of words
Spilled from those lips
So fast, I could not follow
A lady asked him to sum it up
Quickly state what it was he was saying
He laughed in response
Waves his hands in a fury,
“I’ve fallen deep this time.
And I don’t want free.”
Snow
This rock is encrusted with lichen
like thick flakes of unmelting snow…
The children were rapturous
skiing Mt Buller that time,
little red coats and rosy faces,
on the almost-flat beginners’ slopes.
In a full car with chains on
heading to Falls Creek in the dark
we lost a tyre on a bendy road,
changed it by torchlight.
Next day we rode the ski-lift
all the way to the top.
I never smelt air so clean.
Almost at once I fell,
legs in a tangle and couldn’t get up
without a stranger’s detailed instruction.
The gluhwein took hours to cook.
Hot, syrupy, spicy, I found it delectable.
James,
I try not to berate my contributors. There are too few of them as it is.
@James: Thanks for your comments and feedback! Much appreciated since constructive criticism is the means to improvement =) I’ve reworked this piece and the “No” stanzas to yes.
“Yes, I have faith
Just not on empty promises
From romantic drama serials
Yes, money is important
I just don’t believe that cash
Is the means to happiness”
Thanks again for bothering.
Tingling kumquats and Blueberries
The subtlety of air,
the quietness of hair,
tingling feeling in my body.
orange kumquats fall low,
wind of dirt does blow,
I fear all fruit is shoddy.
A last hope to fly away,
a final breath to give a day,
my blueberries feel naughty.
Late submission here!
To Sheer
To my dear Sheer:
I agree about Asia
Or, rather Asians
And those fake ‘comedians’
In those variety shows
Whose IQs really seem low
And make virtually no sense
They’re not even worth two cents.
Yes, I too, hate those flicks
Romance ones make me sick
But everyone else always says
‘I can watch that for days’
And hold a fiery debate
About which guy is more great
Or talk about Boys Over Flowers
Everywhere, all over Singapore.
Sometimes, I really wonder
If I can find a partner
Or is my attitude a singularity
A lone one, among so many
It’s good to hear from you
At least there’s a few
So even though we’re different
At least you won’t be abhorrent!
P.S. Out of curiosity, may I know where you live, Sheer?
@John:
…and thus you show some wisdom.
The comment was not so much directed at you specifically, but at society in general. Your coment was just the touchstone in that instance. It was initially a play on words that took form, and the form menaing (I hope).
@Sheer:
You are welcome.
@Joy:
Sheer lives somewhere between here and there,
where rumor states funny things are everywhere.
And if you find this comment of little use,
Thank my friend and mentor: Dr. Suess.
@all:
I am enjoying the chance to read your work. I am enjoying the chance or challenge (or is it an excuse), to write poetry.
Keep it up.
@Darryl Good words, enjoyable poem … “shoddy” is a good word too!