writing poetry - A New Poetics

A New Poetics

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Welsh poetry and Cynghanedd

September 8th 2009 11:47

I've been on a kick recently of looking up non-English verse forms and trying to do them in English.

Of course I'm not the first one to try Cynghanedd, a Welsh poetry form, in English...it's pretty tricky stuff. Cynghanedd (pronounced kng-han-eth, or something like that) is a Welsh word that means "harmony." It's not an actual structural form, like a sonnet or something, but rather a set of poetic rules, one of which must apply to each line of a Welsh poem.

There are for major types of Cynghanedd: cynghanedd groes, cynghanedd draws, cynghanedd lusg, and cynghanedd sain. In groes, the consonants in the first half of the line are repeated in the second half; sometimes the end-consonants are ignored. Draws is the same as groes, except that there are one or more consonants in the 2nd half of the line that aren't repeated from the 1st half--they stand alone. In lusg, an early syllable in the line rhymes with the penultimate (2nd to last) syllable of the line. In sain--this one is tricky--the line is divided into 3 parts: the first part shares a rhyme with the 2nd part's final syllable, and one or more consonants from the 2nd part are repeated in the third part. Got all that? I'm still not sure if I do, but I went ahead and tried a Welsh poem in English.

The form I used is called the Englyn. According to this site, which is the primary source of my info on Cynghanedd and Welsh poetry, the Englyn is sort of like a Welsh version of a haiku--short and sweet but with (hopefully) profound implications and multiple meanings. Challenging, but not nearly as much as the Cywydd--a poem of 20 lines or longer. Phew! Not ready for that one yet.

This specific type of Englyn, the englyn unodl union, has 4 lines of 10, 6, 7, and 7 syllables, in that order. The first line's 7th, 8th, or 9th syllable rhymes with the ends of the other lines. The last syllables of the first line after the rhyme-word must rhyme or alliterate with the beginning of the 2nd line. In lines 3 and 4, there must be a rhyme between stressed and unstressed syllables. Man, no wonder Welsh poetry tends to turn a lot of non-Welsh speakers off! But I love a challenge, and I couldn't resist.

Here is my attempt of an English englyn unodl union--remember, in addition to the rules of the englyn, each line must also exhibit one of the 4 types of cynghanedd, otherwise it's not a true Welsh poem. Due to the strict nature of cynghanedd, trying to write with a certain English foot in mind--iambic, dactylic, etc--is useless. English prosody doesn't mix well with foreign forms. Consider this a free-verse English poem, even if it is anything but!

"Winter Sense"

The snow will fall, I know so--now too late; (sain)
Sate the cold, unfold, though (lusg)
Frost begets a costful foe: (sain)
Wary wait of weary woe. (draws)

A pretty stumbling attempt, I must admit, yet it took me hours and hours to put it together.
I think I did everything right structurally, although it's questionable whether the "gh" in "weight" counts as consonant, since it's part of the silent "ay" sound. A lot of the time the last consonants of the 1st and 2nd half of a cynghanedd draws line are different, but it didn't say anything about leaving out a final consonant, which I did. For a first attempt, it could be a lot worse, though!

Hopefully I'll get better at this cynghanedd stuff, and maybe be able to share something actually good in the future. Until then, happy writing!

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Posted By: Andrew Kerstetter - Category: writing poetry

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Where Shadows Go

April 14th 2009 16:09

One of my own photos

Where shadows go no one can tell,
As when the night clicks shut its chest,
Abruptly ending daylight’s soft farewell,
Enclosing all in darkness tight compressed.

The sun retreats into the west,
Decrees of time and space to quell.
We see the sun recede to rest;
Where shadows go, no one can tell.

We choose to end the lamplight’s burning spell,
But dark controls itself without contest.
We then in sleeping blindness dwell,
As when the night clicks shut its chest.

The summer shadows, sharp and blessed
With lengthened life, cannot dispel
Encroaching night, the sun‘s long reign to wrest,
Abruptly ending daylight’s soft farewell.

The shadows sense the sunset’s speeding knell;
They see approaching death and so invest
Their time with life enlarged, before the night can swell,
Enclosing all in darkness tight compressed.

Do shadows have an afterlife as honored guest
Of void between the stars, eternal well
Of life, or are they by the sun possessed,
Or is it in this closed-lid, darkened shell
Where shadows go?

This poem form is called Rondeau Redouble (or double rondo). The rhyme scheme is abab baba abab etc. to the end. Each line of the first stanza is repeated as the last line of each subsequent stanza, as you can see in the poem I presented here. The very last line of the poem is the first bit of the first line. It's a really tough form to write because of the rigid rhyme scheme as well as the line repetition.

As a result, I used a scheme known as Anastrophe (uh-nass-truh-fee) which is when the regular grammatical sequence of a phrase/clause is reversed. I like to call this "Yodafication" since this is how Yoda always talks in Star Wars. For example, the normal way would be "No one can tell where shadows go" but I reverse it to be "Where shadows go no one can tell." This is a common poetic (and prosaic) technique that stretches back to the ancients. It works too, as long as you don't overuse it--then it just sounds forced and cheesy ("Hallmark" poetry). I use this scheme in several spots in this poem, "Where Shadows Go." Can you find them all?

I'd also like to say a word about photography. I absolutely love taking photos, especially of nature (landscapes, plants, animals, sunsets, etc.) because it's fun trying to get the perfect angle of something, the perfect distance and coloring and lighting, to make something ordinary into something beautiful. It's all about new perspectives. If you can get at something with an unusual perspective, or an interesting angle, that thing suddenly becomes more interesting and beautiful. I think all poets and writers ought to take up photography and maybe even take a photography class. It really helps stimulate my creative process. In fact, the picture I posted on this post (one of my own) inspired me to write "Where Shadows Go" and a few other poems. So next time you go for a walk or a drive, take your camera along--you never know what might strike you at a given moment.

Oh, and yes I've returned from my long hiatus. I didn't expect it to be so long, but it turned into almost a couple months! I got so caught up in life that I forgot about this little blog, then I realized that the 60 day mark was coming up soon, so I decided I needed to start posting again! I started this thing in the first place to help spur me along in my writing and not get complacent, which is exactly what happened during my hiatus. I was very busy with schoolwork and life in general, but I wasn't writing very much. Over Easter, I was relaxed and rejuvenated and my muse returned to me. So here I am again!

I plan to highlight more poetic/rhetorical schemes and tropes in the future, and maybe talk more specifically about photography. Until then, have a great day and keep your eyes and your minds open!

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Posted By: Andrew Kerstetter - Category: formal poetry, writing poetry

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No Winter Maintenance

March 12th 2009 16:28

December boughs stretch out like claws
That scratch around for sustenance
Which won’t be found till Springtime thaws.

This road’s in need of maintenance,
But signs say snow forestalls the fix.
Till Spring there‘ll be no recompense

For anger spent on winter’s tricks
Which make our fragile minds irate,
Though selfsame storms our souls transfix:

Our hearts their crystal mirrors bait,
Reflecting light to blind our eyes
As mounds of mirrors gather weight

And trap us under pallid skies,
Surrounded by the level white
Of snow that brings our hope’s demise.

Their weary eyes dismayed with sight
Of hidden paths and hidden holes
And roadways clogged with diamonds bright,

The people quickly think their goals
Are overwhelming; then they scheme
To fight for what the storm controls,

To push against the ice and scream
Frustrations at the diamond-wall,
To melt the frost, their rage redeem

The time it took to shred the pall
And give them some small sustenance,
All peaceful thoughts beyond recall.

They never win the fight, nor get their recompense:
As I await in warm abode for Spring to make the call,
They know defeat and raise the sign “No winter maintenance.”

Living in the midst of the U.S. snowbelt region, I'm well-acquainted with the "no winter maintenance" sign, and people's frustration at the snow. This poem can be seen as humorous, but also harboring some deeper more serious thoughts and critiques on humanity and human nature. At least that's my opinion; but of course the final word isn't really up to me, since I'm biased.

This poem takes the form of a terza rima. A terza rima is, in my mind, a sort of combination of the Spenserian sonnet's interlocking rhyme and the villanelle's repetition. Instead of whole repeating lines like the villanelle, the tercets (3-line stanzas) of the terza rima are connected by their end-rhymes: aba bcb cdc ded, and so on. The terza rima is not a closed form: the poet can continue writing the tercets as long as he wants as long as the rhyme scheme remains intact. This poem form usually ends with either a single line that rhymes with one of the lines in the previous tercet, a rhyming couplet, or with a final tercet that fits the rest of the poem's rhyme.

I chose to write this poem in iambic tetrameter, but the final tercet has one line of hexameter and two lines of heptameter. When I say iambic pentameter, I'm not talking about the number of syllables: I'm talking about the number of poetic feet. If you just say "pentameter" that means there are five feet--hexameter= six feet, heptameter=seven feet, tetrameter= four feet, etc. A poetic foot is made up of two or more syllables; some feet have up to 5 or 6 syllables (though in that range it's mostly splitting hairs...a 5-6 syllable foot could easily be interpreted as 2 or more smaller feet).

But when I say "iambic" I'm referring to what kind of poetic foot is used in the line. An iamb is a foot of two syllables, an unstressed one followed by a stressed one. But there are 3-syllable and 4-syllable feet as well: a dactylic foot has a stressed syllable and 2 unstresseds ("Washington"), and its opposite is an anapestic foot, or anapest. A cretic foot--or amphimacer--has a stressed, unstressed, and another stressed syllable ("Crocodile"). An example of a four-syllable foot is a secundus paeon, which has one unstressed syllable then a stressed syllable, then 2 more unstressed syllables.

So when you see a term like "iambic pentameter" versus "dactylic trimeter," the 2nd one has only 1 less syllable than the first, because a dactyl is 3 syllables, and trimeter means there are 3 feet, so there are 3 dactyls= 9 syllables. Pentameter means 5 feet, and if its iambic, then there are 5 iambs= 10 syllables. So don't assume that just because something says "pentameter" or "tetrameter" that it will have 10 or 8 syllables, since the number of syllables depends on what kind of foot is used.

Anyway, back to my poem. The hardest part of terza rimas, for me, is the interlocking rhyme scheme. I have concrete, poetic ideas, but I have to mold them, manipulate them to fit the form. This is annoying but also rewarding, as it helps expand your vocabulary and mode of thinking. If it weren't for this restriction, I might not have come up with my metaphors of snow/ice being like mirrors and diamonds. I picked diamonds because I honestly don't think they're very attractive...it's just a cultural thing. They're just obnoxiously sparkly with no color at all. I find it shallow and unaesthetic that the only reason people value diamonds so much is because they're pricey; rare; valuable. I don't see much aesthetic/romatic value in them at all. Of course there are plenty of people who honestly think diamonds are beautiful, but a huge majority of people only value them because they are themselves very valuable monetarily.

I also made the poem circular in a way, reusing the words 'maintenance' and 'recompense' at the end, just as I did near the beginning. Also notice the shifting viewpoint/pronouns throughout the poem...see if you can decipher some meaning from the shift of pronoun usage. I'm trying more and more in my poetry to add subtle clues to make readers think without knocking them over the head with what I'm trying to do. Let me know if it works!

Tomorrow I'll start a new segment on epic poetry by beginning my discussion of John Milton's Paradise Lost. Starting with book 1, each Friday I'll discuss each subsequent book's themes and how it accomplishes its task poetically. I'll also try to mark the important differences between epic poetry and prose and other, shorter poetry. Until then, have a nice day!

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Posted By: Andrew Kerstetter - Category: formal poetry, writing poetry, meter

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