At Close Proximities

October 31, 2009

Of Writing Formal Poetry and Free Verse

Filed under: poetry madness — Khareen @ 12:49 pm
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A free verse is an unrhymed verse without a consistent metrical pattern.  In most cases, the free verse is initially thought to be easier than writing formal poetry mainly because it is not governed with any metrical conventions and anyone could just readily rush into writing lines and make them form like a poem.  However, I find writing free verse much harder than writing a formal poem, mainly because you don’t have any idea how to start.  The length of each line is an arbitrary choice of the writer. Also, I find writing free verse very demanding than writing formal poetry because in the first place, free verse requires you to have a well-tuned ear to be able to achieve the right and appropriate rhythm as it approximates your line breaks.  Since the line break is also an arbitrary choice of the writer, free verse entails a lot of revisions especially if there is a variation of rhythms in a poem.  Without a particular meter, it is difficult to decide when to pause or when to cut your line.  Some pauses naturally (caesuras) while some writers prefer their lines to be enjambed – where there is a continuation from one line of verse into the next line without a pause.  And this decision is crucial, as it is more prone to poetic flaws, like awkwardness in readability, and misinterpretation.  The appropriate usage of them would accentuate and supplement the emotion, tension and the rhythm of the poem.  Writing free verse, for me, should be done with utmost subtlety, and the writer should take into consideration how to deliver the intended effect that he/she has in his/her mind through his/her line breaks.

On the other hand, formal poetry puts greater premium and focus on formal elements such as rhymes, meters, rhythms etc., but it is not as easy as arranging syllables to fit a certain poetic convention, because one must also take considerations that the poem, in the first place, should make sense.  In formal poetry, form is an aesthetic attribute.  I find writing metered poems really pleasurable because I like experiencing the constraints as I meet a certain metrical expectation.  Moreover, some words naturally (or in some time) resist being ‘co-opted’ in the metrical pattern, but this only inevitably urges me to strive hard to get the right meter.

I find writing metered poems easier than free verse, which is ironic because I thought that the latter is easier before since the poems you’ll make would not be subjected in metered expectations.  At some point, I even forgot that I was actually writing a metered poem – there are times when the words and phrases are naturally arranged in the required meter.  What so good about writing metered poems is that you end up feeling satisfied after writing the poems, and the whole process of writing is pleasurable.  Free verse is hard to write mainly because you have to justify the arbitrariness of line breaks.  Moreover, free verse requires so much from a poet – you have to have a good ear to be able to get the right pace or rhythm of the poem and to experiment the variation of rhythms.

In any case, I would prefer to read a poem with complete naturalness of rhythmical expression, smooth and seamless, not rough and chopped sentences.

April 8, 2009

The Fire Walker

Filed under: poetry madness — Khareen @ 7:04 am
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Can you still remember

the day when we first met?

It was a hot night. A beach party.

And you were the night’s

first fire walker –

We gathered around

to see you walking barefooted

over burning coals and hot stones.

I could see the fire reflected

in other people’s eyes,

around me

as the night was filled with jeers

and cheers.

That night, we met up,

we hooked up –

our feelings were like slivers

of fire under the soles of our feet.

And I also walked

over that bed of embers, remember?

but unlike the others, I didn’t know

the future blistering days

were coming right

behind me.

May 5, 2008

To Young Goodman Brown

An open letter to my husband who went away to escape the household chores…

To Young Goodman Brown

Good, you left with your desire to walk down

the evil path with the spooky guy (with his serpent staff)

who fetched you in the dead of the night.

Good, do remember, that even if you promised me kisses

of return and double-stuffed Oreos

you still left – the dishes unwashed

and the dogs untied outside.

You chose to poke your nose to other people’s business,

without minding ours: the house is too dirty!

The ceilings unclean! The stuffing is coming out the couch!

You didn’t mind. Did I tell you to do something about them?

Must you veer away from me? I asked,

and tried to hold you back, a little longer but you depended so much

that such virtue would stay forever.

But, I’m not sorry at all that you left me, my macho thrillseeker

Because I too decided to chase the devil!

To see what it is like to doubt what is present.

So if we plan to come back to our house again

let’s decide: who would get the TV, the radio,

the fridge, the bedroom, the bathtub…

Let’s decide on the division of the house:

who gets the living room, the bedroom,

the comfort room, the kitchen…

who gets where.

Good, I’ve told you even before, this predestination –

you need not go to escape the household chores.

Faith.

The structure is quite familiar: the poem is inspired from Nathaniel Hawthorne’s Young Goodman Brown, so the reader would know that the character is involved in a quest, where he experienced something, but when he tried to go back, he didn’t live the way he lived again before.

I like the Nathaniel Goodman’s stories. They are mostly about allegorical narratives that represent ethical and psychological issues of the society. Take for example, the Young Goodman Brown and The Minister’s Black Veil.

That’s why I re-vision the story and made it into a contemporary poem.

Bonnet

On one corner

tucked

in a hanger with your

underwear

I,

seemed forgotten

by you, who finds

pleasure:

either with his hands

keeping your hair

out of your face

or him

messing up your hair

like last night.

Accidental

You

who just sipped

my coffee

from that table

should make me

another

coffee, the same cup

to fill in

what you’ve taken

and what I’ve

lost.

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