Jim's comments (member since Feb 25, 2009)

Jim's comments from the ¡ POETRY ! group.

I'd like to add a small point to this conversation, which has been a good one. Poetry has always been, for thousands of years, more than words on the page. It's an auditory art (how it sounds when properly read with accents, pauses and devices like alliteration) and it's also a visual art (how it looks on the page with spacing, word order, etc.) Please take a look at this famous poem by Gwendolyn Brooks and read it outloud with the proper emphasis. Then read it outloud the way I rewrote it. Notice how dull and tedius it sounds when arranged in a traditional syntactical order. The poet broke the lines up exactly the way she intended for maximum effect, and because of that, the poem is a success both figuratively and literally. While most people would call this free verse, I believe it's a good example of what Denise Levertov calls "organic poetry" in as much as the form follows, or grows from, the content and by doing so enhances the meaning.


We Real Cool

The Pool Players
Seven at the Golden Shovel

We real cool. We
Left school. We

Lurk late. We
Strike straight. We

Sing sin. We
Thin gin. We

Jazz June. We
Die soon.

Now look what happens to the sound and emphasis when I ruin the poem by making it traditional sets of rhyming couplets:

We real cool.
We left school.

We lurk late.
We strike straight.

We sing sin.
We thin gin.

We jazz June.
We die soon.

It's the way Brooks breaks the language up that makes the poem fresh and new and more personal for the reader. WHAT she's saying is old news - black inner city kids are headed for trouble if they don't watch their associations,. HOW she says it is what made it both famous and art.

Good for Erica. You posted a very intelligent response to Gregory's constant harping about poetry and rhyme. Denise Levertov, a famous poet who didn't rhyme, has a great book of collected essays on the theory and craft of poetry. You might be interested in reading it, especially at this stage of your writing life. One essay in particular speaks of what she calls "organic" poetry, in opposition to the generic term vers libre or free verse. Her point (and her point seems to have been proven by the sheer volume of poems written in this manner, at least in American poetry over the last fifty years) is that each poem grows its own form and internal rhythm based on the content, which is where many writing teachers get their comments about "form follows content." According to Levertov, there is really no such thing as "free" verse. All poetry has some form, but that form may be organically grown from its individual rhythm, syntax, line breaks, syllabics, etc. based on how those tools are used to harmonize with its vertical content (thematic material). Keep up the good work and don't limit your thinking about poetry like some others have. Continue to open your mind to the great possibilities inherant in the English language for fresh forms of art.

Barry wrote: "Gabrielle wrote- You do know I'm a senior fiction editor at a major New York publishing house, right? Lucky I have daily access to a top publisher to set me straight. And I'm a prize-winning short ..."

It's so interesting that people who aren't poets or editors, those people that spend years writing and studying the art and craft, are always experts on poetry. Take Barry for example - he's a CPA and a lawyer - I guess that means he's an expert on brain surgery as well. Anybody want Barry to operate on them? I'm going to try Barry's logic, since I've spent years studying, teaching, and writing poetry and years working as a poetry editor, I'm going to open a law office. I could make a lot more money.

Here's some prose exposition (according to Barry and Gregory's explanations). The writer of this exposition was some idiot named Neruda, Pablo, I believe. He wrote his prose so well he even fooled the Nobel Prize committee. Even when he wrote in Spanish, it didn't always rhyme, some of it had questionable meter, and some was pretty doggone negative - the fool!

Poetry

And it was at that age ... Poetry arrived
in search of me. I don't know, I don't know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I don't know how or when,
no they were not voices, they were not
words, nor silence,
but from a street I was summoned,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others,
among violent fires
or returning alone,
there I was without a face
and it touched me.

I did not know what to say, my mouth
had no way
with names,
my eyes were blind,
and something started in my soul,
fever or forgotten wings,
and I made my own way,
deciphering
that fire,
and I wrote the first faint line,
faint, without substance, pure
nonsense,
pure wisdom
of someone who knows nothing,
and suddenly I saw
the heavens
unfastened
and open,
planets,
palpitating plantations,
shadow perforated,
riddled
with arrows, fire and flowers,
the winding night, the universe.

And I, infinitesimal being,
drunk with the great starry
void,
likeness, image of
mystery,
felt myself a pure part
of the abyss,
I wheeled with the stars,
my heart broke loose on the wind.

P.S. When someone honestly critiques a poem that indicates they have adivice to offer that would help the writer improve the poem - specific, detailed information. Those kind of critiques prove valuable to the writer and establish credibility for the critic. "That's horrible" as an honest critique merely establishes the limitations of the critic.

And now, I've wasted two days again. So, I'll leave this discussion to the experts who have nothing to learn. Someone is actually paying me to fly to their campus in a few hours and give a lecture about poetry to their writing students. I guess they thought I was a CPA.

Gregory wrote: "Barry wrote: "That piece called Lynette's War that won the poetry contest was beyond horrible. The people who voted for such an abortion had no taste or the competition must have been the worst thi..."

"A good mother respects the father of her child" - tell that to the Muslim women raped and impregnated in Serbian rape camps or to the thousands of women whose men deserted them and who are left to care for a child on their own here in this country. And yes, this is a contemporary poetic image. Even your metaphors have no bearing on the nature of the contemporary world, Gregory. Come forward one hundred years to the present when writers of all genres are no longer restricted by social taboos and are allowed to examine both the beautiful and the ugly side of humanity in hopes that their discussions might lead to some actual improvement in life. Join us here in America where, thankfully, your opinion and Barry's opinion of what might, or might not, be poetry are not the only opinions available. For the very reasons you complain about, poetry now has the opportunity to be a persuasive art form for positive change by allowing people a clear look at what they do to each other for a myriad of complex reasons. When Picasso painted Guernica was his hope that you would find it pretty? I doubt it. If Picasso had written a poem entitled Guernica, would you have it look like this:

Roses are red, Violets are blue
Pretty red sunsets and body parts
Are what lovely wars do.

Having been to war myself, I would hope that this is not your contention. And yet, what is being described in Lynette's War is for the author metaphorically just as ugly and tragic and frightening as some of the images Picasso painted. She has a right to express them in whatever art form she chooses. The fact that she did it with enough emotional empathy to connect with enough people to make it a winner in this contest is one of the many ways that people have judged "art" for thousands of years.

To the poet who wrote "Lynette's War" - the winner of this month's poetry contest. I'm sorry that you had to read Barry's offensive remarks regarding your poem. It was a truly well-written and insightful poem regarding the human condition, full of emotional substance. It also showed excellent poetic technique at work. Oh, I know it didn't rhyme, but there are a few people who have never evolved past believing that simple rhymes are the only forms of poetry, or that a poem is only a poem if it speaks in cliched images about abstract forms of love and tears and red sunsets, etc., forget insight, forget craft, forget resonance, and emotional ambivalance. I not sure, but it seems to me that these might be people who also believe there is no global warming, that our health system needs no reform and that the president is a foreigner (just guessing, of course, based on Barry's comments of 10/23/09 at 12:06). These people, like Barry and a few others, are in the dark as well as the minority. Don't let them discourage you. Those of us who actually write poetry and publish books of it and win awards with it and teach its craft and read other contemporary poets know the effort that you successfully used to create this good solid work. Ultimately, that's why you won. Keep up the good work and stay true to your own voice.

Amy has done a great job instituting this monthly contest and taking time out of her life to run it. Like many things in this country it goes through a committee process and is eventually decided by majority vote. Because a few people are too arrogant and stubbornly refuse to listen or try to understand that the vast majority of poems written for these contests is written in the modern American vernacular is not a reason for them to control the outcome of contests each month. I have seen several examples of formal poetry almost every month that are available for voting. The problem usually has been, as might be expected, the examples of rhyming poetry have been cliched, outdated, and in many cases not very good. And Gregory, the idea that you've stated over and over again about not learning from Julia or Ruth or me, proves my point. Thank you. Only an incredibly arrogant person would refuse to learn, or believe he has nothing to learn from others, regardless of who those others may be. For example, I have learned by reading that most of the people who vote on this site are American even though it's available worldwide. Those readers are going to naturally prefer what they've been accustomed to reading in textbooks and literary magazines and what sounds most meaningful and rhythmic to them. You, on the other hand still refuse to acknowledge that American poetry has moved past formal European traditions, whether you want it to or not. Not only that, but the vast majority of poetry readers in American don't seem to notice or care that you don't like it. I have learned from you and a few others on this site that there are people who have no idea about what contemporary American poetry consists of and are very close-minded and prejudiced, ignoring the idea of poetry as a living and evolving art form. Thank you for teaching me that. See, we can all learn if we want to.

Matt wrote: ""RHYME - synonym POETRY, antonym PROSE"

Are you kdding? This is such nonsense, it's not even worth arguing with.

So many laughably clueless comments in these discussions...."

Hi Matt,

You're wasting your time - time that could be put to better use. Ruth and I spent precious hours trying to reason with some of these same people, and it isn't possible. They have no understanding of the differences in poetic forms or in some cases basic common sense. They only understand self-importance. The unteachable can't be taught. It might be best for you to think about moving on and forget the silliness. Based on his comments, Gregory still seems to believe you can't have rhythm in language unless the words rhyme at the end of each line. Even this small point about the difference between rhythm and rhyme and how one can and does work without the other is lost. How are you going to intelligently converse on the more subtle and nuanced qualities of writing?

Many lit mags and small presses are nonprofit. They sell no advertising and have no commercial way to raise money. In those cases, a reading fee for contests is appropriate. Most of them couldn't exist without it. If a commercial magazine is charging a reading fee, it's usually a con game. They should be paying for writing they use.

Julia wrote: "Does anyone want to suggest a good source that lists places to submit poetry? I've been signed up to a yahoo list for quite awhile now and it works great. I've set it up to drop the writing opportu..."

I want to affirm Julia's comment. Allison Joseph and her husband Jon Tribble are friends of mine. They both teach at SIU in Carbondale and Jon is editor of a really good magazine called Crab Orchard Review. They also sponsor poetry book contests and a writers conference for young writers. The list serv is a great source for all different genres and styles of writing and it's easy to join. Another good site is the web site New Pages Guide to Literary and Alternative Magazines. You can google it for a link.

Hi Erica,

I spent ten years working as poetry editor for a national lit magazine. Most editors don't spend much time with cover letters as they have thousands of poems to read. Some editors never even look at them, their interns do. The best rule is the KISS rule (keep it simple, stupid). You should always mention previous publications if you have some. Also, some like to know your educational background, though not all, or any relevant facts concerning why you chose their magazine. Most expect you to include a self addressed stamped envelope for notification. What they don't want to know is your life history or an explanation of why you wrote THIS poem or what the images mean or how important your writing is to the world. They expect professional language and brevity. A man sent me a poem once and started his cover letter with this sentence. "I know you're not going to publish this, but I wanted to send it anyway because it meant a lot to my mother who died recently." Another one started, "Nobody ever publishes my poems and they're really good." Another sent a ten page CV. These are things that make editors cringe. What a good editor will always do is base his/her decision on the quality of the poem and how it fits in with overall direction of the issue. I hope this helps.

Herman wrote: "Jim, I feel I've had a tough couple of years, but I sincerely hope that I never become as bitter and angry at the world as you. If I was religious, I would pray for you. Honestly. Your sarcasm is t..."

"This is a very funny paragraphs. The one directed to this 'Jim' is very good."

I agree, Herman. I've been laughing at it for days.

Hi Marissa,

It depends on whether or not you really want your poems examined and advice to help you improve your writing. If you really mean that then Amy, Tara, Ruth, Nina, and Trish, among many others, can offer you solid help. That should be the case if you're hoping to get published somewhere. If you're just wanting to play at poetry so you can call yourself a poet, then that's okay also because it's a public site. However, it's good to let people know what you mean by "critique" so the writers and teachers on the site know how serious you are and don't waste a lot of their time. I bring that up only because it recently happened in a discussion thread and several days were wasted.

"The aim of poetry and the poet is finally to be of service, to ply the effort of the individual into the larger work of the community as a whole."

-Seamus Heaney

This guy writes poems that rhyme, and he writes them brilliantly enough to have won the Nobel Prize. I'm sure that some of our great rhymers have never heard of him and wouldn't like his poetry because it doesn't have enough teenage angst. However, this seems a pretty good quote for me to leave this discussion on. I can no longer be of service here and I'm wasting too much of my own time trying. And, Jimmy, you made an excellent point. It's amazing how many people who wouldn't call themselves a brain surgeon without going to medical school, even if they owned a scalpel, think that knowing the alphabet and having some "feelings" are all that's needed to be a poet.

Brixton wrote: "I write things that look like poetry, that sound like poetry, that sometimes rhyme, and sometimes do not; that sometimes have short lines, and sometimes look like a paragraph. Just as what you are ..."

You're making an interesting comment, Brixton. The two things that interest me most are these. First is your belief that people will read what you write if it isn't published somewhere, somehow, by somebody and in a place where an audience is likely to find and read poetry. Many of those places have editors who pass judgment on how well something is written and how much it might appeal to their readers. Then, they pick ten or fifteen poems out of a thousand that fit their criteria. Those are the poems that get read. Unless, of course, you just pass one on to your friends or family to read, or someone accidently finds a blog post, and they all tell you how brilliant it is because you're expressing your feelings. And, that's okay for anyone to do. I think any writer or teacher of writing would encourage that type of expression. Secondly, your comment that someone's poetic senses are constrained when they're offered advice on how they might more fully examine those senses and feelings by learning more about how to tap into them seems kind of silly. You say this smacks of dishonesty. I've read some of the poetry posted on your blog. It's obvious that whoever wrote it has been taught, either through reading or direct mentoring or both, a whole lot about the various poetic craft techniques we've been discussing and uses those techniques very well. It's obvious that whoever wrote it is considering that an audience of strangers might read it and wants to reach those strangers and communicate with them. It's obvious that whoever wrote the poetry on your blog understands the difference between something well written and something poorly written. And, I'm not talking about obeying grammar rules. I'm talking about sharing emotional substance the best possible way you can to engage a reader. So, I think that the whole anti-poetry-is-the-only-way-to-write rhetoric is what smacks of dishonesty. It's certainly okay to write whatever you feel whenever you want to. To post it in public, call it poetry, and ask how you can write it better, is to invite criticism and advice. Some of it will be good, some of it bad and a good writer soon learns to discern which is which and benefits from it either way. When a writer does this, everyone benefits.

Everything you write says you haven't listened to any productive criticism that's been offered. Productive doesn't mean only criticism you want to hear. I have re-posted a poem that has been read and enjoyed by many people who have actually paid money to the publisher for the book it's in (that's one way you tell if people like your poems, but there are other ways also.) Then I re-wrote that same poem in a tradtional English sonnet form imitating the way you are rhyming words. If you honestly believe the rhymed one has more meaning and substance because I made the words sound nice at the end of the line, then nothing that any poet can ever say will aid your quest and I apologize to you for myself, Ruth, Nina, Trish, Harley, Charlie, and everyone else who has generously offered good advice on poetics. We should be ashamed of ourselves for wasting our time.

A Sonnet of Absence

My mother read romance novels
after we left home, hundreds of them.
Driven by absence beyond children,
she sat in her rocking chair, staring past
the empty nest into other people’s dreams,
chain-smoking Virginia Slims
and mouthing out loud the clichéd language
her damaged hearing could not discern.
Ashes dripped from the cigarette
clenched between elegant fingers.
She was unaware that I sometimes watched
through the bay window before announcing
rare visits with a guilty knock. Unaware
that her body had begun to kill her, she knew
only loneliness and held it close like a lover.


A Sonnet of Absence for Ivy

My mother read romance novels.
She stacked them up with her garden shovel.
Driven by absence beyond her children
she sat in a rocker and picked at her skin.
She lived her life in other’s dreams
because she didn’t like her own, it seems.
She mouthed out loud the used up words.
Her bad hearing made bird sound like turd.
Ashes dripped from her cigarette,
But nothing burned so she didn’t fret.
She was unaware that I sometimes watched
through a broken window that was patched.
She didn’t know I was there
because she was too busy pulling her hair.

Okay, Ivy, I can give you some examples of my own form poetry, but I won't bother going into an explanation of them and how these forms get written because you don't listen when people try and help you improve your writing. These are not entries for any contest because they've already been published either in poetry journals or books and they're copyrighted by the publishers. There are examples here of a villenelle, a slant rhymed sonnet and syllabic poems (poems with unrhymed meter that remains consistent for each line.) I can't sing them like you could yours and they don't have any unknown secret monsters in them, but I think readers seem to like them and derive some emotional substance and meaning from them because publishers keep accepting them and printing them.


Galloping a Dream

In this dream it is midnight. I tighten the girth
and gallop a chestnut mare along the racetrack rail.
The track is full of shadows inside moonlit shadows.

She’s skittish when the wind begins to rattle
fine sand across my face, as if guitar strings wailed
and snapped, as if shadows sang within the shadows

dissonant melodies, one note at a time, fractured
by my rapid breath against her neck and her own pale
hoof beats in between the moonlight and the shadows.

The night smells like fear, although
dreams have no scent until awakened with the detailed
ring of hooves when she bolts a turn, jumps a shadow

and, with my waking, draws the reins to bow
her neck against the wildness of her dread. I flail
my knees against her flanks with false bravado,
think of whispers from my sleep and then I know,
A horse can’t outrun itself, even chasing shadows.”

Suicide in High School

Not all birds can fly and, while
this may be common knowledge
inside most aviaries,
I discovered the concept
one long night in ‘66.
My friend Sue perched like a bird
on the rail of Severn’s Bridge,
dog-eared and faded copy
of the Tom Robbins’ novel
Even Cowgirls Get the Blues
stuck behind her belt buckle.
She freed her white-knuckled grip
on the metal cross beams, spread
her arms and let the fringes
of her brown buckskin jacket
unfold like feathered wings. Then,
left the boundaries of earth,
rising just slightly at first
as if the light spring breeze might
lift her to orbit the stars
slung close to those cold girders.
We watched in awe, a small group
of classmates passing a joint.
Some cheered her amazing aplomb.
Others, myself included,
realized as she spiraled
into the river below
the absolute gravity
of believing all birds free
beyond the chains of the sky.

A Sonnet of Absence


My mother read romance novels
after we left home, hundreds of them.
Driven by absence beyond children,
she sat in her rocking chair, staring past
the empty nest into other people’s dreams,
chain-smoking Virginia Slims
and mouthing out loud the clichéd language
her damaged hearing could not discern.
ashes dripped from the cigarette
clenched between elegant fingers.
She was unaware that I sometimes watched
through the bay window before announcing
rare visits with a guilty knock. Unaware
that her body had begun to kill her, she knew
only loneliness and held it close like a lover.

The History of Language

For the Poet, this poem began
with Enheduanna, high priestess of Inamna,
poet of Ur who, 4,000 years before Shakespeare
wrote his first sonnet, laid language
into the open arms of love, holding it there
till Sappho sexed it up for Homer and Virgil,
Shelley, Keats, Blake and Byron, where
it languished for Eliot and Pound to blow smoke
up its ass and cause a bad addiction.
Now, coughing phlegm and chain smoking Kools,
sporting chronic halitosis, the Poet's words
drink bourbon unrestrained in some seedy backwater
Bukowski kind of town and wait
for new Strophes, who may not show, to buy a round.

Jerin1701 wrote: "...if so why don't we have a revolution? ....By the way, master Jim, do you know the song Revolution by Beatles White Album?"

Yes, I do. I saw the Beatles in concert before you were born, my friend.

And as for not reading any contemporary poetry that you like better than the ancient poetry you read... Finally, we get to a matter of personal taste. This has very little to do with how a whole culture defines its art. I salute you. I think this is what a lot of us have been saying all along. None of us sets the standards for what history will one day call the art of any given society. We hope to push the boundaries of those standards further while acknowledging they exist and learning from their excellence.

I like Jimi Hendrix much better than John Mayer. That's my personal taste. I like Bob Dylan's lyrics better than Beck's. That's my personal taste. I think the rock music of the 60's and early 70's is much superior to contemporary rock music. But, that's my opinion. It doesn't mean that some new guitar players can't be artists and it also doesn't mean that everyone playing the guitar today is an artist, even if they're playing Purple Haze.

Ivy wrote: "
All right, I believe that I should clarify what my beliefs on poetry are. Okay, I do love rhyme. I wish there was a lot more rhyme in poems. But most important is a steady meter. Meter is what..."

Yes Ivy, I have a thought. Meter doesn't keep people reading a poem. Rhythm, particularly rhythm that connects with a reader's subconscious mind, holds interest and focus beyond the intellectual. In a good poem the rhythm enhances the actual content. Meter is one way people measure rhythm and sound in a poem. All good poems have a rhythm in the language, even prose poems. Good poems written in traditional forms follow a certain specific meter. Good poems written organically create their own internal rhythms as they go. One is not necessarily better than the other, just different. Here are some well known types of formal poems where the meter is measured as part of the composition:

In contemporary poetry, free verse is the norm. But, until recent times, most poetry written in English used meter and often a rhyme scheme as well. Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass, which was first published in 1855 was the first major attempt at free verse. Today, only a few poets write in traditional forms, and then, most of them only occasionally. Many developing writers have never learned the structures of formal poetry, much less attempted to write a formal poem. T.S. Eliot suggested in his essay Tradition and the Individual Talent that all poetry comes from the poetry that preceded it.

I agree that there is inherent value in at least understanding the foundations and history of what you write. Below are some terms common to formal poetry and some formal templates that good writers use while still adhering to the other things we have been discussing like concrete detail, imagery, metaphor, and meaning.

Because meter and rhyme are ultimately about the sounds of language, remember that meter is organized rhythm and rhyme has to do with echo, the hearing again of a note that’s been played before. Such formal elements are at the roots of poetry in English, just as classical music is a source for contemporary composers, or the blues was a jumping-off point for rock ‘n roll.

Meter:

Meter comes from the Greek for “measure.” Every poem has rhythm, but when the rhythm is highly organized into a pattern where the number of syllables is important, as well as whether those syllables are stressed or not then we have a meter.

The unit of measure that we pay attention to when talking about meter is called a foot. Here are the most common feet in English ( u marks a slack syllable and / marks a stressed one:

Iamb (u /) – create, inspire, tonight, motel
Trochee (/u) – hungry, snowfall, argue, orchid
Dactyl (/ u u) – longitude, messages, miracle, video
Spondee (/ /) – trap door, new shoes, blind pig

The other part of meter is knowing how many of these feet occur in each line:

Monometer – one foot per line
Dimeter – two feet per line
Trimeter, Tetrameter, Pentameter, Hexameter, and so on

Rhyme and Meter are techniques that work best when they don’t call attention to themselves. They keep the beat without intruding into the poem.

Sonnet: 14 lines in iambic pentameter (may vary a line or two slightly) with a definite rhyme scheme.

Shakesperean – a-b-a-b-c-d-c-d-e-f-e-f-g-g

Petrarchan (Italian) – divided into an octet (eight line stanza) and a sestet (six line stanza). In this type of sonnet an idea is commonly laid out in the octet and turned in the sestet. The sestet develops the new line of thought. That is the shift in rhyming lends itself to a shift in content: a-b-b-a-a-b-b-a and c-d-e-c-d-e

Spenserian – a-b-a-b-b-c-b-c-c-d-c-d-e-e

There are other forms even older than these. If you really have an interest in learning about poetry and writing it well, these are a few of the things you really should know before you start explaining what good poems are and how they all have meter. I would suggest to you and Lil Jean both that you try and actually write a poem using one of these metric patterns and get an idea about how easy or difficult it is to compose one that's worth someone else reading.

Jerin1701 wrote: "..uhm..ok tough crowd...

Master Jim or Madam Ruth, I have a Du Fu poem here;
I'm wondering if its translation proof.


Full Moon

Above the tower- a lone, twice sized moon.
On the col..."

I'm not sure what you mean by translation proof...what I'm reading is beautiful, even in English.

Jerin1701 wrote: "I agree it's richfulness....but master Jim.. a translation within translation within a translation,, what will happen to the original Sanskrit?"

A good question Jerin - what has happened to the Bible, to the Illiad, to The Song of Roland, and many many other great works. They remain available to those who can read the original tongue and also available to new generations and new languages. But, I also agree there is always danger in translating and it may be impossible to include many nuances of the original. Translations may always be slightly inferior to the original work, but at least they make the work readable for more people and, in this way, the wisdom and beauty of art is passed on and not forgotten because no one speaks the language.