Onward, The Sphere!
 

Candle Power

When want of will and dearth of cause constrain
to keep ideas and words outside the brain,
a map of worry cannot sidestep strife
or set a course to fill the sails of life.
Don’t blame some lack of love from mortal kind,
or frame your formless thoughts in squares of mind,
to make excuse for failure to perceive
when asking gods themselves to please believe.
When, all your musing days, not once you’re brave,
when, soon must choose to burn or rot in grave,
now take the bolder path, the bolder traipse—
this truth, above the rest, accept with faith…
that through the toughest tests and hardest times,
those poets truly lit have writ in rhymes.

Hi, Jim!

I'm a hard sell. I wasn't convinced before that poets who use rhyme are "truly lit," and I'm not more inclined to think so by this little evangelical "Join Us, We're the One True Church and the Only Path to Immortality" pamphlet.

But I might be missing the irony here. I often do.

Cheers,
Julie

Hi Julie,

First of all, a poem’s existence being acknowledged on the sphere is the first step in moving it forward or yanking it from the stage, so I thank you for that. I think I have to agree with you that I am making more of a declaration here than an argument, and sonnet-wise, a declaration is not enough.

My argument is meant to be that rhymers should accept on faith that their verse is superior to the alternative of free verse because few in the world of poetry now do. For convenience, I leave out the merits of blank verse and the perils of doggerel.

My title, “Candle Power” is the nomenclature for measuring the intensity of light. So my “”lit” has that literality. The slang term “lit” has long meant drunk and I am trying for a sort of drunken (if simplistic) ecstasy of rhyme. In modern slang, “lit” means excellent, and I suppose I am saying that rhyme is more excellent than non-rhyme, although I am sure many could argue my own rhymes are pitiable at best. And last, as in ”lit mags,” lit means literary. I see Eratosphere as one of the last bastions of traditional poetry, but even the sphere seems not much of a fan of old-fashioned populist verse with end rhymes in couplets like this has. I always like to play both ends when I am going for humor, so that a reader asks, is this tongue in cheek, head in ass, or not. Is he playing the fool or not? I’ve said it before, usually I am only fooling myself.

I’ve said all this hoping to prompt comments to help guide me where I want to go, or should go instead, and if that's back to the drawing board, so be it. Yours is a start, so thanks.

All the best,
Jim

Never mind

Hi Jim,
I appreciate that we all have our own (valid) opinions here - but I have to say that I really like this! As someone who only writes in rhyme, it's probably bound to appeal to me more than poets who write free verse, to be fair.

I can't think which poet's work it reminds me of, specifically, but it reads like something out of an old anthology from yestercentury. (Drat, I thought I'd invented a new word there, but apparently not.)

I've read it several times, looking hard to find something you might change or improve, but no - I like it just the way it is. You've got some nice phrases and alliteration, and the title fits. I use "candle power" myself, when speaking of a place I go to for meetings occasionally, where the lighting is absolutely appalling!

This is a keeper, as far as I'm concerned.

Jayne

which isn't a great way to demonstrate that it makes sense to use rhyme today. As a member of Team Rhyme, I fear this poem illustrates a feeling of rhyme's disparagers, that it's a tool for people who want to write yestercenturily.

Jim, I love rhyme and don’t mind a dash of archaism, but my dummed-down modern head lacks the patience and navigation skills needed for this poem. After reading the first sentence several times slowly, I decided it must mean something like “Worry won’t get you anywhere if you’re not willing to use your head.” I don’t think I can even paraphrase the second sentence—especially the bit about asking the gods to believe.

In the third sentence, I guess a poet who’s always been too cowardly to rhyme is being urged to rhyme boldly in the face of all those who disapprove of the practice. For L9-10, I’d suggest:

When, all your musing days, you’ve not been brave (or When, all your days, you’ve never once been brave)
and soon must burn or molder in the grave,

I’d also replace the ellipsis with a colon. Ellipses usually stand in for something left out, while colons are right-pointing arrows.

What Carl says is important. Using rhyme in a didactic poem like this necessitates that one's argument be as crystal clear as the rhymes. In fact, trying to put one's abstract thoughts on a subject into rhyme is a great way to learn if one has any clear idea of what one wants to say. Most often, the argument melts into nothing, or it gets tangled up in impenetrable lexical knots. For me, both those things happen here. A lot of breath is expanded to say something negligible; while the constructions employed, when closely studied, are fruitlessly intricate. Alexander Pope made it look easy, but it is not. At their best, such lines can cut through verbiage with a revelation enhanced by the sparkle of their rhymes. At their worst, they merely enlighten one to the fact that one doesn't really know what one is talking about. Subsequent comments of yours, Jim, like—"rhymers should accept on faith that their verse is superior to the alternative of free verse because few in the world of poetry now do"—convince me of the latter.

Sorry, but I think this is a complete train-wreck, from start to finish. The "patience and navigation skills" that Carl over-generously laments that he lacks, well, they should be the province of the poet not the reader.
A tone of archaic authority is no substitute for timeless clarity of thought.

Nemo

When want of will and dearth of cause constrain to keep ideas and words outside the brain, you're in danger of writing the garbled metaphors of the next two lines, and of ending up with what Nemo rightly calls this whole train-wreck of a poem. The poem tells that rhyme is good, but fails to show it being used skillfully.

"soon must choose to burn or rot in grave" may be the most egregious example of awkward diction in the poem, although "frame your formless thoughts in squares of mind" is exquisitely meaningless, and the traipse/faith rhyme calls attention to its own awfulness when it's offered as an example of truly lit poetic wit.

Hey All,

I am going to address comments together since there’s a near consensus that this is not working. Allow me to at least paraphrase the poem. To me, each line makes sense although as a whole there’s a loss of cohesion. I’ve already said in response to Julie that my argument is faulty or non-existent. It is especially so if not read as insider ars poetica. Also, remember, it is my N speaking. I’ve said before on the sphere that I think the best modern poems are by free-versers. I’ve also said the best poetry ever was by formalists like Dickinson and Shakespeare. I do not think “red wheelbarrow” holds a candle to “outrageous fortune,” but that’s just opinion. Now on with the paraphrase:

When want of will and dearth of cause constrain
[When lack of desire and motivation affect]
to keep ideas and words outside the brain,
[your ability to form thoughts,]
a map of worry cannot sidestep strife
[worrying will not avoid your problems]
or set a course to fill the sails of life.
[or set your life straight.]
Don’t blame some lack of love from mortal kind,
[Don’t blame a lack of love]
or frame your formless thoughts in squares of mind,
[or try to follow rules to avoid confusion]
to make excuse for failure to perceive
[and claim you cannot understand]
when asking gods themselves to please believe.
[why the gods are not hearing your prayers.]
When, all your musing days, not once you’re brave,
[When, in a lifetime of chasing your muse you’ve been a coward]
when, soon must choose to burn or rot in grave,
[and when now so near to being cremated or buried]
now take the bolder path, the bolder traipse—
[it’s finally time for you to be bold]
this truth, above the rest, accept with faith…
[and accept this statement on faith]
that through the toughest tests and hardest times,
[that when push comes to shove]
those poets truly lit have writ in rhymes.
[the poets of most literary merit wrote in rhyme.]

Thanks for commenting, everyone.

Hi Jayne,

You deserve a separate response. Thanks for the careful reading you gave this. You obviously have the imagination to fit square pegs into round holes when you are entertained enough to do it. I couldn't ask for more.

Jim

This is a great explanation.

I wouldn't throw the baby out with the bathwater, though, there are elements of this poem I enjoyed. To get more specific here are a few phrases I thought could use some improvement (which re-iterates how hard this poem is to get right):

A few months ago when I was asking about meter I spent an hour or so attempting to write a poem in a similar style (didactic, rhymed), and it was quickly obvious to me how hard it was to pull off well.

And that's the kicker, a writer needs to be able to give their own poem a critical eye. If it's not done, it's just not done. To me this poem is about 80% done, but as Nemo mentioned the thesis might be another issue.

What worked for me were the elements that retained the old-school, traditional style, but when they were mixed with words like 'brain' and 'truly lit' it created a facetious tone that made me think the poem wasn't actually being taken seriously.

But then, maybe the irony's getting lost on me too.

Hi Jim,

I have nothing to add to what others have already said. But I'd encourage you to really study what Nemo has to say.

Rick

Jim, I find your poem paraphrase to be surprisingly gripping compared to the poem itself. It is bold and direct, and what a nice ironic surprise it is to find at the end of this free verse, the observation that the best poets write in rhyme! This "version" has the classic tone of some wise foreign poet of days past, translated into English. Really, I strongly urge you to embrace this as the poem's revision.

That occurred to me too as I was reading the paraphrase, but I lacked the nerve to suggest it. Some of it might still want a little poeticizing—it doesn’t even have to be free verse if you don’t want it to be—but if you do revise, I’d try sticking closer to the paraphrase and its engaging directness.

It's seems egregiously absurd to me (rather than "ironic")...

a.) to present a poem arguing for the superiority of rhyme when it is only a free-verse paraphrase that can make some sense of it,

and

b.) to make a statement in such a poem that rhyme is the superior form of verse with absolutely no elaboration of why that is. Is the reader supposed to simply accept such a conclusion without a shred of evidence? For me, the claim has minimal merit; and yet I would expect, at the very least, that the poem would make some attempt to present the process of reasoning which has led the author to such a sweeping generalization.

Nemo

I started to comment on the silliness and pettiness of this but decided to read my Brodsky instead.

"Next, when you are describing
A shape, or sound, or tint;
Don't state the matter plainly,
But put it in a hint;
And learn to look at all things
With a sort of mental squint."

"For instance, if I wished, Sir,
Of mutton-pies to tell,
Should I say 'dreams of fleecy flocks
Pent in a wheaten cell'?"
"Why, yes," the old man said: "that phrase
Would answer very well.

And so on.

Hi Jim,

It is the incredible arrogance of your basic premise that destroys this piece. It is comparable to stating that opera is superior to folk songs or jazz is greater than classical. Hubris in the extreme. The arguments used here are the same as those you decry. That which divides is always easier to embrace and understand rather than that which unites.

All poetry wanders at times, between extremes, either an exercise in tatting doilies or in the angst of stream of consciousness. Constructs without real meaning. To me poetry should appear in that no-man’s land between music, speech and art, where sound and content marry in synergy, where philosophy and intuition comfortably co-exist whether atonal or melodic.

Didactic cloth is always rough on the skin.

To be clear, my idea was that Jim's paraphrased poem could read as an effective sardonic jab at those who "accept on faith the superiority of rhyme." Yes, egregiously absurd--in a (post hoc) intentional and funny way.

.
I agree.
I also thought, Jim, your paraphrased non-metrical, non rhyming poem about rhyme and meter being superior to all other forms of poetry to be ironic enough/satirical enough/sardonic enough to gain some traction. But what's really absurd, almost comical, is that by doing that you achieved to discount your claim of rhyme poetry being superior by writing a paraphrased version in free verse. There's something there in doing that. Something dysmorphic... But there is no easy escape from what many have said is (I'm paraphrasing): taut with hubris and tangled in its own harangue. Perhaps it would be more palpable as a single quatrain. Or a limerick.

It’s like someone declaring sonnets to be the best poetic form. Or Shakespeare to be the best poet. To each their own. And best of luck in translating what the imagination gushes so inarticulately. Any way you can is the best way.

But the part of the poem that I dislike the most is the title. I don’t want to dampen your enthusiasm for writing poetry. Just let you know (remind you) that serious poetry is a reverent thing that deserves humility and discipline (I should know) both in its composition and in its reading. If you are intending it to be satirical, ironic, etc., then that only ups the ante for making it work.

.

Hi again,

This is all I am going to say further on this piece. I am disappointed by the many knee jerk reactions to my ambiguity. Three things that I insist to be true are: one, that far and away rhyming poetry has been much more belittled and subject to aspersions for decades now than has been free verse. Free versers are not some poor beleaguered minority who need to react with snide smug superiority. You already own the current world of poetry. Why can’t you be happy with that? I am relatively certain that day by day the poets of the past are being shoved farther out of sight. Why are current poets so easily insulted? Perhaps the issue raised strikes a particularly vulnerable nerve??? And two, does anyone know what “accept on faith,” means? That is what my N tells poets who have been fearful of rhyming to do. If you need help understanding the phrase, it means to believe something without evidence, without logic. Anyone calling for me to prove what my N says has no reading comprehension skills and their comments are not worth me further addressing. Oh, I also appear to have offended some who believe they have perfect rhyming skills. I can only say that I am happy for you. And three, no critique here has any legitimate business in trying to stifle subject matter. If you want to do more than help the poets here say better what they want to say, you should go find a chat room or a discussion board. Now, anyone that wants to sling more insults and have the last word, please do, because I am out of here.

Jim, it is best to seethe quietly in private when the critics don't tell you what you want to hear. We all know what it's like to post our latest masterpiece, only to find that no one seems to appreciate our genius. But isn't that the risk we're supposed to be willingly taking when we post? Scolding your critics for having poor "reading comprehension skills", rather than thanking them for their time, seems a bad idea.

Jim, the problem with the poem is it's much too abstract. I said that earlier then someone decided they liked it and I gave up. It's frustrating.

If you read any good or great poem it will be much more concrete regardless if it's met or nonmet. The met is better blah is a dead end. Write what works best for you. "The Four Quartets" would be no better in meter. Go read Frost or Heaney or any of the other memorable metrical poets. They turn the idea, the theme, into images and reflections that are grounded in what is seen and heard in the poem. Right now my favorite Frost poem is "Come In." There is death and eternity and acceptance of the unanswerable here without a single abstraction. If you want your poem to succeed work to make it graspable and not-graspable at the same time through sounds and images. That is the hard part of writing poetry.

One more thing, you learn from your bad poems not from the good ones. Praise is nice but that is it. When you post a mess and get feedback that is what helps if you can open your mind and control your feelings. Everything said isn't useful but some is and getting pissed-off blinds you to the good stuff.


Come In

As I came to the edge of the woods,
Thrush music — hark!
Now if it was dusk outside,
Inside it was dark.

Too dark in the woods for a bird
By sleight of wing
To better its perch for the night,
Though it still could sing.

The last of the light of the sun
That had died in the west
Still lived for one song more
In a thrush's breast.

Far in the pillared dark
Thrush music went —
Almost like a call to come in
To the dark and lament.

But no, I was out for stars;
I would not come in.
I meant not even if asked;
And I hadn't been.

John,
I seem to be the only person who likes the poem, and I told Jim. We all have our own thoughts, likes and dislikes (as I also said in my post) so I just don't understand why you "gave up" at that point. There's really nothing to be frustrated about. I like it and you don't. So what?

The Sphere wouldn't need to exist if we all felt the same way about everything! :)

Jayne