The following gems have been mined, with the author's gracious permission,
from forum postings at P.O.E.M.S. Place and the
Sonnet Central Writing Board.
(The former, no longer active, was decidedly friendlier to novice or recreational writers, but
the latter inherently more instructional.) Museeker's absolute mastery
of the craft is evident in his own poetry, and anyone who has been fortunate
enough to be on the receiving end of his critiques will attest to the fact
that they are unfailingly courteous, pertinent, forthright, and immeasurably
helpful. Thank you, Mu, for these thoughts on ...
Formalism
In response to a question about villanelle writing rules.
For the specifics of the form and the most noteworthy example
(Dylan Thomas' "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night"), consult
the following link:
www.uni.edu/~gotera/CraftOfPoetry/villanelle.html
This includes a good definition, a bit of history, and more pertinent
info about the form. It's a challenge to do--an even greater one to
do well, but it's quite rewarding once accomplished, and it's a great
exercise in disciplining oneself to rhyme scheme and repetition within
a prescribed poetic format. The real challenge is to do all you can with
the repetitive lines--try to use them in different ways while maintaining
the integrity of the repetition. You have to be careful at the
outset--only two rhymes are allowed in the whole poem, so you must
be sure to pick words with plenty of rhyming possibilities, or you'll
get stuck.
The rhyme scheme and the repeated line patterns are the only real
requirements of the villanelle. No strict metrical requirement
either--some are in pentameter, some in tetrameter, and I would
imagine others have been written using other meters. Iambic pentameter
is the metrical choice I've seen most frequently, though.
With respect to variations, I'll make a comment that is applicable to
poetry in general. Nothing in poetry is written in stone. As a matter
of fact, I would contend that much of the most lovely and effective
poetry written has deviated from the prescribed norm. However, the key
factor here is that you have to know how to break the rules. There's a
world of difference between one who flouts convention for effect and
one who neglects it because he's not competent enough to adhere.
I'm a purist--I absolutely adore formalist poetry. There are several
other types of formal poems besides the villanelle and the sonnet
(e.g., pantoum, triolet, rondeau, sestina); the pantoum is similar
to a villanelle in a lot of ways; however, it's a bit easier because
you're allowed more than two rhymes.
The villanelle and pantoum are especially appealing to me because I
believe that repetition, if used competently within context, is one
of the most effective and moving modes of poetic communication.
I hope I've given you the type of information you were looking for.
I also hope that your interest is piqued sufficiently to lead you to
try writing in some of the other formalist genres; I've found that
forays into these areas have enriched me tremendously and facilitated
increased technical skill, creativity, and growth in the craft.
Labeling
In response to a lament on the absence of clear
labeling to distinguish poetry from prose.
As one who's long been a standard bearer for many things considered
"out of date," I empathize and agree with you wholeheartedly. Criteria
have long been established as determinants for poetic and literary forms.
There is certainly no law that demands that these criteria be followed;
however, for purposes of classification and truth to the genre, we owe
it to ourselves as poets, and to the craft itself, to correctly assign
and categorize our creative efforts. It seems to me that the whole
purpose of formulaic poetry is to adhere to and practice the specific
discipline in question. If the boundaries are allowed to break or shift,
what's the point in even having generic divisions? I would add that
minor deviations are permissible, within the subjective constraints
of poetic license and as long as they are not a reflection of the poet's
inability to follow the form.
Technique
In response to an expressed concern about
adopting unfamiliar techniques.
You wrote that you're not too fond of enjambment but you're trying to
keep an open mind and try some new tricks. This issue bears consideration,
in my opinion, because it reflects a concerted attempt to incorporate into
the creative process what is only a device. Enjambment is no
different than metaphor, simile, rhyme, hyperbole, or any other
technique that a writer uses to achieve his/her fundamental
purpose, which is self-expression. I would be especially wary of the
hazards of feeling obliged to master any poetic device--at risk is the
danger of emphasizing technique over content, which is to be avoided
at all costs. Devices are wonderful when used effectively; however,
when their incorporation becomes a chore, the product is apt to reflect
that difficulty.
I'll wager you feel pretty comfortable with rhyme. This is not only
because of your skill and facility with the device, it’s also because
rhyme is now a natural and integral part of your creative process.
This is how it should be with ANY device--appearance of any creative
technique such as enjambment or metaphor or hyperbole should be the
manifestation of the author's perceived need for it--and it
should not stand out because of the attempt, although its incorporation
may be noteworthy because of the facility or wit with which it was
utilized.
It’s good to be conversant with a variety of devices--they are, after all,
the tools of the trade in the craft we practice. However, no great poem
is great simply because of the inclusion of this type of component;
there is an aggregate value comprising all of the means and measures
used, no one serving a greater capacity than its fellow--and all
contributing organically to the value of the work as a whole. In this way
a kind of literary synergy is achieved, the creative whole being greater
than the sum of its parts.
Forgive the lecture, please--I'm sure you're already aware of much of what
I've rambled on about. I just wanted to make sure that you didn't have
this enjambment bone stuck too deeply in your craw. No law (written or
un-) that mandates any or a certain number of literary devices in a piece
of writing; they are designed to enrich and fortify--but they're not an
end in themselves.
Scansion
In response to a question about line division according
to a perceived change in metrical pattern.
Perhaps I can help to shed a little light on the problem you're
having here.
First of all, I wouldn't consider your poem to have mixed meter.
Requiring the reader to add a beat to a line, or adding an extra one
in composition, is not the same as mixing one meter with another.
When determining the scansion of a poem, you have to determine the
predominating meter. Because a poem is in iambic pentameter
doesn't mean that every single line is going to have exactly ten
syllables, or that each one is going to be perfectly iambic. It
just means that iambic pentameter dominates enough to afford the
poem that general rhythmic feel.
Here's one of my favorite of Shakespeare's sonnets (Sonnet 29):
When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd,
Desiring this man's art and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
This is certainly iambic pentameter, as are all of Shakespeare's sonnets;
however, there are three lines that have an extra beat (Ll. 3, 9, and 11).
Look at L9-he begins the volta here and actually adds that
syllable at the end of the line as a change in meter that highlights
the change in thought. The L11 meter is stretched a beat to agree with
that ("arising"). Three out of 14 lines here are not in perfect
pentameter (they all have 11 syllables-perfect iambic pentameter would
require 10); yet the poem is still a sonnet, and it's still in iambic
pentameter. (Notice as well that not every foot in every line is iambic.)
Terms and Tips
Enjambment?
An enjambed line is simply one whose idea is continued to the ensuing
line sans punctuation. It's not necessarily characterized by
syllabic division, as you do with "pud-ding" in the first line of your
second quatrain. As a matter of fact, there are several lines
in your poem that are enjambed--any line that is not end-stopped qualifies
technically. Your "pudding" line is just a very obvious example--and not
necessarily the better for its salience. Again, the idea is to
be able to fit the device seamlessly and naturally into your
expression--not to make the content or concept accommodate the device.
Caesura?
It is simply a stop somewhere in the line, kind of the opposite of
enjambment. Here's an example:
Oh, give us joy and wonder to behold
The innocence that now untainted rests
Upon her forming cheeks. Hold back the bold
That likes to thrust itself upon the crests
Of life...
See it in L3? That's it there-the period after "cheeks." All of the
other lines are enjambed.
Choosing Rhymes
My suggestion is to challenge yourself with your rhymes. One of the
first (and most helpful) comments I received on this site was to stay
away from easy rhymes and to make the pairings fresher and more
interesting. I find I do so now on a regular basis, and I feel
that it really does add to the effect of my poems.
In response to place/plate/taste/date in a poem
with abab rhyme scheme.
One thing I'll mention with regard to the rhyme in the first quatrain.
I've found that nonrhyming lines that have the same vowel sound detract
somewhat from the strength of the rhyme. You've got the long "a" sound
in all four lines; your rhyme in this four-set would be a bit stronger
if it played off a different vowel sound, I think.
Proofreading
I feel that a very good piece of writing can be unjustly diminished
by careless editing or poor proofreading. (As a technical editor by
trade, I'm particularly sensitive to this.)
"And yet do none of nature's poets claim
themselves alone deserving of the name." -M.S.
This offers an important and humbling insight: The highest-quality
art pales in comparison to God's grandeur (as Hopkins would have it);
indeed, the intent of every artist is to paint as competently as he/she
is able with that imitative brush, portraying nature itself as truthfully
as possible through the chosen medium.
Your couplet strikes me in particular-every time I call myself a poet
I feel to some degree presumptuous, for who among us is truly deserving
of the name? Sometimes I feel as if I am only practicing to become a poet,
in the same way medicine or law is "practiced."