…slowly unfolding female series, is rather an interesting one technically. Composed, including its title, of word-count based haiku, which, as I have discovered lately can be written in iambic pentameter. 10 syllables per line, with 5 iambic feet, which consist of a feminine (unaccented) syllable followed by a masculine (accented.) I do love additional constraints, they almost always make for an interesting sound, even if clarity is an even greater challenge. Continue reading
…interesting and fun to write. Particularly sequences. However, a month or two ago, I rediscovered, by way of another poetry blogger, the non syllabic form of haiku. This using 5 – 7 – 5 word count, rather than counting syllables. I have been favourably disposed to doing those, however of late have discovered yet another way to meld my love for sonnets with my interest in Haiku. Continue reading
The following is paraphrased as well as copy/pasted from the entry in question–see the link below for the original (which, by this time, may well have been lucased)
I came upon an old, unpolished work of mine. Not exactly in this form, but in tetrameter Originally there were 4 quatrains. The original rhymescheme was AAxA, BBxB, etc. where ‘x’ is non rhyming. I thought one could sonnetize that by Turning the non-rhyming ‘x’ into a rhyme that carries through. This was an interesting result:
At last, the dawn, in perfect form, I see
So formed, a positive reality.
It’s purple state, in perfect choir, unveil
To shine, inspiringly, its song on me.
With form, and measure never void, it brings
A subtle mastery of the world it sings.
Without abash, I hear it tell a tale
Of majesty, and many more such things
Which burn with glory’s power, as they shine
Upon this shadow dappled world of mine.
My dreams are splendour, as they dance–prevail
With measure, and with form, and perfect line!
And dance I shall, as light–as mirrors bright
Reflect–avail, ’til dark, ’til death, ’til night!
Also, on that note, I am beginning to think that, in order to more clearly describe rhymeschemes, one might perhaps use letters and numbers, or perhaps, upper and lower case letters, for different types of rhymes. And perhaps, ‘x’ might indicate lines that do not rhyme?
As an example, to describe the above, one could do the following:
As such, one can clearly see delineated such rhymes which only last a short time, with those which carry through an entire piece, or, as may be the case, a larger part of a much larger piece.
It makes more sense to me when I look at it. What one usually sees would be AABA, CCBA, etc, but where “A” feels like a “first rhyme” “C” really feels like a “second” (or a B) but, in this kind of numbering, “C” generally means “3″ which makes the notation confusing, and one has to think about it a bit more, to decipher.
And as I think of it more, I think the appropriate version of the above would be:
AA1A, BB1B, etc.
This is because, while it is highly unlikely that there would be a large number of ephemeral rhymes, or at least those for which the alphabet could not be recycled, there could potentially be–in a very long piece–any number of perpetual rhymes. And using the lowercase ‘x’ makes sense for non rhyming lines as well.
And a compressed scheme (or lines with internal rhymes such as the final couplet here could be in brackets of some kind. For this, I have generally been using square brackets. This would give the above sonnet as:
AA1A, BB1B, CC1C, [DD][1D]
…this morning’s rain-related offering. It occurred to me that It would be quite easy, quite nice, and quite wonderful to make the final couplet:
Older she, than land they rest; her crops
Are they; if brick, or straw–so unrequited.
be a compressed version of the other three quatrains. Continue reading
…fairly grounded to the earth. I think this must involve my science background in some way. There is not such ambiguity as one might find in other poetry. I think I should see what the limits of my ability to blend metaphors with concrete earthly ideas might be. (or perhaps I should say “mix metaphors?!”)
In any event, the unfinished, yet famous “My love has wings…”/”Nightingale Woman” might be a worthy pursuit. Since according to lore it should have been a sonnet. Various writers have attempted to finish it while retaining, to some degree, its basic rhythm, and on the other hand, ignoring or not being able to perceive that the known lines are indeed the first two lines of a sonnet, albeit with one syllable missing in the first line–a minor point, and not at all unusual. In fact, sonnets appearing as early as 1600 observed pentametric rhythm without maintaining, in the strictest sense, iambic feet. Still the five beats are heard:
My love has wings,
slender, feathered things
with grace in upswept curve
and tapered tip
These lines are often written as above, although this strikes me as a rendering to paper ones auditory impression of the lines. But I’m no forensic expert in this matter. For all I know, these lines might have been rendered thus in the original script (“Where no man has gone before” – Gene Roddenberry) In any case, format the lines as follows and you will see their true form begin to unfold:
My love has wings, slender, feathered things
With grace in upswept curve and tapered tip…
And due, in large part, to my reading (and writing) of many many sonnets, I would further venture that these first two lines imply an English Sonnet. Here we have two stylistically similar lines, yet distinctly different. The first with its internal rhyme, and missing syllable; the second with it’s five iambic feet and alliterative ending, suggest a ABAB style rhymescheme.
What’s he that wishes so?
My cousin Westmoreland? No, my fair cousin;
If we are mark’d to die, we are enow
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God’s will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
But if it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England.
God’s peace! I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more methinks would share from me
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse;
We would not die in that man’s company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is call’d the feast of Crispian.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam’d,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say ‘To-morrow is Saint Crispian.’
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say ‘These wounds I had on Crispian’s day.’
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he’ll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words-
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester-
Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb’red.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs’d they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.
One thing at a time.
It’s been my experience that students can count syllables, and get 10 syllables into a line, far easier than they can match the iambic pentameter. The iambic pentameter only came for me after about thirty sonnets — so I think it’s less of a priority. We want students to get over three hurdles first: writing fourteen lines, writing a rhyme scheme, and writing ten syllables in a line. The iamb can come later, because it’s a “sounds like this” issue, which gets solved by kids who care about writing more than one or two.
I could have sworn that it was Dershowitz, but it’s now been at least a decade since I read the report, and the name of the lawyer has long since escaped me. It was about the time of the O.J. Simpson trial, as I recall, or before, so it may not be on the Web — given that it was 1994. It was a profile of a prominent lawyer of the era, might have been Harper’s magazine or The Atlantic…
As for your sonnet sequence, I like it. It conveys feelings of doubt and uncertainty, and solitude; but it’s very much rooted in internal feeling and abstract language, rather than in the macrocosmic world of objects and things and processes. I tend to lean more into the world of objects than you, but it may be an advantage in the poetry world these days.