I'm sure many of you widely-read Spherians know the work of the Pennsylvania-born poet Robert Francis (1901-1987)-- and his "Silent Poem", in particular. It's the one where he presents a simple list of compound nouns-- nearly all trochaic, plus a couple of dactyls and one four-syllable foot which I guess is a double trochee or ditrochee ("honeysuckle" in line 3)-- and presents them as a poem.

I think it works exceedingly well on the literal level as we check out the farmyard, but I think Francis also uses those simple rural elements to take the reader on a much more complex journey: from day to night to dawn, from summer to winter, from the present to the past, from life to death-- and even to the suggestion of resurrection, maybe, at the very end. But I'm not sure it does all that for anybody else, and I'd really like to hear some reaction to it. Maybe I'm overdoing the interpretation? (By the way, there are supposed to be a few more spaces between each word, which effectively slows down the reading of the poem-- but this program refuses to let me add any.)

Marilyn


Silent Poem

backroad leafmold stonewall chipmunk
underbrush grapevine woodchuck shadblow

woodsmoke cowbarn honeysuckle woodpile
sawhorse bucksaw outhouse wellsweep

backdoor flagstone bulkhead buttermilk
candlestick ragrug firedog brownbread

hilltop outcrop cowbell buttercup
whetstone thunderstorm pitchfork steeplebush

gristmill millstone cornmeal waterwheel
watercress buckwheat firefly jewelweed

gravestone groundpine windbreak bedrock
weathercock snowfall starlight cockcrow

-- Robert Francis

It does very little for me except stir up some annoyance. Sure, the nouns are arranged in some patterned manner, but what that boils down to is clever listing. I regard it as gimmickry, not poetry.

What annoys me is that this is the kind of potentially facile approach that is often seized on by insta-poets. Give me a few hours, and I'm sure I could think of, or look up, and scribble down fifty interesting and often unusual nouns covering urban life, or Japan, or sports; arrange them into some kind of structure, include hint of a hint of a teaser in the last grouping, and declare, "Hey, look, I wrote another poem." Naah.

Michael, so do I take it that you also reject Edna St Vincent Millay's "Counting-Out Rhyme"?


Counting-Out Rhyme

Silver bark of beech, and sallow
Bark of yellow birch and yellow
Twig of willow.

Stripe of green in moosewood maple,
Colour seen in leaf of apple,
Bark of popple.

Wood of popple pale as moonbeam,
Wood of oak for yoke and barn-beam,
Wood of hornbeam.

Silver bark of beech, and hollow
Stem of elder, tall and yellow
Twig of willow.


KEB

PS - I tried to do one of these poems once, using the names of towns in the Hudson River Valley, where I spent much of my childhood. The names alone have a really iconic feel to me; I probably learned to read on their town signs. I spent weeks looking at the map, deciding which names were right and sounded right, and changing the order according to all sorts of criteria. The sounds and the rhythm are incredibly important in these, and I think Robert Francis got it right with his feminine endings. My poem has never been a complete success, and not surprisingly the main issue has been finding a title strong enough to set the piece up. Currently it's called "I See the Hudson River," which is also the first line of a song I made up when I was four.

PPS - more food for thought: Kristin Thomas Spam Poetry

Interesting take on the poem, Michael. I think you're right: something like this certainly doesn't require the same amount of plain ordinary crafting that most poetry does-- at least the kind of poetry that comes complete with syntax and punctuation. On the other hand, Francis's word-choices are pretty fresh, pretty interesting . . . those last two couplets in particular are undeniably evocative.

But on the third hand, lists and collections of subject-specific terminology is pretty easily come by these days. If I Googled, for example, "figure skating", I could probably find a couple dozen trochees in two minutes that would serve a similar purpose. In fact, maybe somebody on the list has actually used this approach, and come up with something worthy. If so, please say so!

Anybody else want to try one? (You, Michael? Feel like wasting a few hours Googling?) And Katy, if you still have a copy of your Hudson River Valley poem, please consider posting it.

Meanwhile, it looks like "Musing on the Masters" will not be the right forum for this topic. I think I'll waltz the entire thing over to Drills and Amusements, even though it might lack the intrinsic hilarity of re-writing song lyrics. Further discussion of the Francis poem will still be welcome over there, of course.

Marilyn

I'd have to say that my emotional reaction to Francis's poem is pretty much in line with Michael's--"phooey!"--though I'd be more comfortable calling this a novelty poem than a non-poem gimmick. I can see the things you found in it, Marilyn, but I doubt I would've re-read this enough to find them myself. In truth, if I had encountered this in the wild I doubt I would've made it past the first several lines. I blush to confess that I'm not well-read enough to know Robert Francis's other work, and not knowing his work or recognizing his name, I'd be unlikely to give this poem the benefit of the doubt. It just didn't take the top of my head off. Or even trim my cowlick.

But Katy, ESVM's poem uses parts of speech other than nouns . . . a big difference, innit?

--CS


[This message has been edited by Clay Stockton (edited June 01, 2006).]

Interesting poem. The idea of "silent poem" would be readily intelligible if consisting of a list of things (nouns) -- just the things themselves, no statements about the things, hence "silence." But Francis adds the curious additional limitation that all the nouns be compounds. I'm not sure what to make of this but am persuaded that he had a real idea about it which I'm not getting. The compounds seem like (quasi-chemical) precipitates from un-silent, declarative language, maybe. It's like each compound has an untold story, or rather perhaps a previously told & mostly forgotten story.

Meanwhile the sequence seems generated by various logics: alliteration, rhyme, word-association, idea-association. I'm not getting all the higher-level patterns Marilyn suggests exactly but I agree that it is evocative especially towards the end. In any case it is convincingly non-facile.

The poem is also metrically interesting in the way the trochaic rhythm asserts itself on the compounds. E.g., "honeysuckle" -- really requires 2 levels of stress: HOneySUCKle except that "HOney" as a whole takes a stress in relation to "SUCKle" as a whole. Similarly, the disyllable-monosyllable compounds ("underbrush", "buttermilk", "candlestick", etc.), are not, I think, real dactyls in this context, Marilyn. They are subsumed by the trochaic rhythm so that, e.g., "under", a trochee itself, nonetheless takes a stress as a whole in relation to "brush." In normal English accentual syllabic (iambic or trochaic) verse, "honeysuckle" would be two trochees (or parts of 3 iambs, as in "a honeysuckle kiss"). This poem takes the word out of that metrical ballpark. .... (But yeah, you have to be a real meter-geek to find this interesting).

There’s Gidgegannup and Gundagai,
Whim Creek, Weipa, Pandie Pandie,
Baab Baa, Dubbo, Dumbleyung,
Goondiwindi and Dirranbandie;

Jindabyne and Khancoban,
Ulladulla and Paraburdoo,
Euabalong and Wollongong,
Woy Woy and Wooloomooloo;

Nindigully, Cootamundra,
Kumbarilla, Bogabilla,
Curdiemurka, Come By Chance,
Dimboola, Muckadilla;

Augathella, Murloocoppie,
Andamooka, Oodnadatta
Mitta Mitta, Coober Pedy
One tree, Wangaratta...


I could go on — don’t tempt me!

I’ve written some of those spam poems, using the word lists they often include in the body of the message (to foil spam filters) rather than just words in the subject line.





[This message has been edited by Henry Quince (edited June 06, 2006).]

AE: Francis himself discussed this poem in <u>50 Contemporary Poets: The Creative Process</u>, ed. Alberta T. Turner [Longman, 1979].

You write: "The idea of "silent poem" would be readily intelligible if consisting of a list of things (nouns) -- just the things themselves, no statements about the things, hence "silence.""

He wrote: "For years I had been thinking about the concept of silent poetry or silence in poetry. In this poem by simply presenting words without talking about them, I felt I was gaining a certain silence. Hence the title."

You write: "But Francis adds the curious additional limitation that all the nouns be compounds. I'm not sure what to make of this but am persuaded that he had a real idea about it..."

He wrote: "A fascination with words, single words or groups of words, has been the origin of a number of my recent poems....I became so fond of the strong character of solid compounds...that I made a list purely for my pleasure. In time I wanted to make a poem out of these words, fitting them together like a patchwork quilt[, painting] a picture of old-time New England...moving from wildwood to dwelling, outdoors and in, then out and up to pasture and down to millstream."

I'd say you read his intent rather well.

Jan

P.S. to Marilyn: Please check your PM.

Bones and Stars

Fibula Situla
BANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POST Scapula Sulafat

Femur Fornacis
BANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POST Pelvis Furud

Clavicle Canopus
BANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POST Patella Capella

Radius Regulus
BANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POST Humerus Rigel

Tibia Talitha
BANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POST Sternum Theemum

Phalange Pherkad
BANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POSTBANNED POST Tarsal Phad

Henry, put it to music and you've got the sequel to "I've Been Everywhere, Man."

Peter

My variation on the theme. They were easy, as they're straight translations of everyday German words. ;O.)

Dovetailpipedreamlandmine;
Headstonewallpapercutback
(Workmanhandlebarkeepsake),
Shuffleboardwalkaboutfaceplate.


Bugsy

The preceding poems are clever and fun; but-- at the risk of sounding cranky and defensive-- I suggest that with the exception of Katy's poem, which really does contain some bone-a fide music :), they lack poetic artistry of any kind (although I enjoyed those Australian place-names, Henry!). I realize that incorporating "artistry", however you would define it, was not anybody's goal here, but I do think it was Francis's-- and I think he succeeded.

While "Silent Poem" would never qualify as Great Poetry, I maintain that it has a great deal going for it, aesthetically speaking. The graceful trochaic tetrameter, for one thing. Beyond that, I think it accomplishes exactly what Jan's quote suggests the poet wanted to accomplish, i.e. "to make a poem out of these words, fitting them together like a patchwork quilt. . .a picture of old-time New England...moving from wildwood to dwelling, outdoors and in, then out and up to pasture and down to millstream." There was nothing arbitrary going on here, and I respectfully suggest that the poem is no mere list of related words. My feeling is that it's a lot more sophisticated than it seems.

Marilyn

I guess you meant "Kate." Bones and Stars basically is written in alliterative meter and perhaps deserves some notice there. I hoped to invite the reader to contemplate the way we humans name things and the way we humans are, as Carl Sagan put it, made of "star stuff." I'm rather grateful you set us to the exercise, Marilyn!

At any rate, you are right: what at first glance may seem like nonsense or "not poetry" can, upon deeper reflection, seem revelatory. RF's definitely is like that.

Huh?!?! Well, gee... you got that mine was free verse, didn't you? I mean, because I usually write metrical, and if you were expecting that, you were naturally disappointed. But I've done some stuff that's pretty good. "To His Koi Mistress" was Folly's debut poem, and I was getting a lot better before I left the board for about a year. I've been back for a while, now, but I have to admit it was a setback.

I don't guess you saw my "Odd Pair of Bloomers" when I posted it on The Deep End? That one rocked.

I was worried about L3 because "workman" is pronounced WORKmun, and it would be better if it was WORK-MAN, because it's sort of weird when you go like, "munHANDLE". I'll probably revise that.

I guess I shouldn't have left the forum, eh? Stupid! STUPID!!!!!

What the hell is wrong with me?!?! I guess it was starting to lose my hair so early. 18, you know. That's rough. Cantor's still got his, and don't think he doesn't let you know it, too.

I dunno. I'll try seperating the words. whatever.

Kate, I am sorry I called you Katy in error. I hate it when that sort of thing happens, e.g. when people decide to call me "Mare." Not great.

Marilyn

These are dedicated-fan poems. A writer should keep these to a minimum per book, I think. If, like Paterson, the rest of your book is amazing, then, no harm done. Just something for the puzzle-lovers. This one below offers more clues, in the title and in what precedes the list of stops. It's actually pretty fun when you have an interesting list made by a master poet with something, (you're sure) in mind. In poems like these the poet uses a different mode of commenting on the subject matter: sequence, repetition of closely associated words and juxtaposition are the new mode: alarm clock, shower, traffic, desk, is a crude example. Something is definitely and clearly being said by "Little Fardle-Packhorse-Carrot":

"Fardle" is a burden, packhorse carries burden, carrot leads packhorse

Spiral Wood is another way of saying [Dusty] Drum.

The words in the Francis poem just aren't as evocative as here, where Dusty Drum

Honeyhole and Bee Cott

Red Roofs, Ark Hill, Egypt are trying to tell us something.

The way the poem begins with pastoral subject matter and moves to something more gruesome at the end is also part of the mystery.

14:50: Rosekinghall
by Don Paterson

(Beeching Memorial Railway,
Forfarshire Division)

The next train on Platform 6 will be the 14:50
Rosekinghall-Gallowshill and Blindwell, calling at:

Fairygreen-Templelands-Stars of Firthneth-Silverwells-
Honeyhole-Bee Cott-Pleasance-Sunnyblink-
Butterglen-Heatherhaugh-StBride's Ring-Diltie Moss-
Silvie-Leyshade-Bourtreebush-Little Fithie-
Dusty Drum-Spiral Wood-Wandershiell-Windygates-
Red Roofs-Ark Hill-Egypt-Formal-
Letter-Laverockhall-Windyedge-Catchpenny-
Framedrum-Drumtick-Little Fardle-Packhorse-
Carrot-Clatterbrigs-Smyrna-Bucklerheads-
Outfield-Jericho-Horn-Roughstones-
Loak-Skitchen-Sturt-Oathlaw-
Wolflaw-Farnought-Drunkendubs-Stronetic-
Ironharrow Well-Goats-Tarbrax-Dameye-
Dummiesholes-Caldhame-Hagmuir-Slug of Auchrannie-
Baldragon-Thorn-Wreaths-Spurn Hill-
Drowndubs-The Bloody Inches-Halfway-Groan,
where the train will divide

I love that! Mysterious, yes, but also fanciful and funny, at least to me. I'm getting off at Drunkendubs, myself.

I've read an interpretation where the poem's shape on the page and the poem itself are supposed to indicate an army, a cavalry and infantry campaigning through Scotland. I can't say for sure what it's really all about, but it's fun to make sense of a few names in a row, for instance, the last three: the Bloody Inches-Halfway-Groan, where the train will divide. Now think sex. I'll leave it to your imagination.



[This message has been edited by diprinzio (edited June 04, 2006).]

I think the Robert Francis poem is lovely.

Catherine

I think we might want to have George Herbert's "Prayer (I)" included in the discussion. It seems to me to do much of what the Francis poem (which I really like) does, and to perhaps make what it is doing a little more explicit.


Prayer (I)

Prayer the church's banquet, angel's age,
God's breath in man returning to his birth,
The soul in paraphrase, heart in pilgrimage,
The Christian plummet sounding heaven and earth

Engine against th' Almighty, sinner's tower,
Reversed thunder, Christ-side-piercing spear,
The six-days world transposing in an hour,
A kind of tune, which all things hear and fear;

Softness, and peace, and joy, and love, and bliss,
Exalted manna, gladness of the best,
Heaven in ordinary, man well dressed,
The milky way, the bird of Paradise,

Church-bells beyond the stars heard, the soul's blood,
The land of spices; something understood.

I like the poem, and i adore Francis. These compounds are almost the Mod E equivalent of Old E kennings. In fact, translated into Anglo-Saxon, it would be almost apprehensible to those who lack the language, and it would still be beautiful.

I guess I'm middle of the road on this one. Yea, I get a hint of a rural setting, like fire smoke lingering in the wood, and it was crafted - care was taken with the sound (although a couple of words seem to break the rhythm, rather than enhance it) - yet I feel unsatisfied. The time for one read wasn't wasted, yet the experience dies on subsequential reads.

[This message has been edited by Jerry Glenn Hartwig (edited June 07, 2006).]

I like the Robert Francis piece! Sure, it's not great poetry, but I'd much rather read something relatively unambitious but successful and fun, like that one, than something that's shooting for greatness and managing only to be average (i.e. 99% of all poetry).

And Michael, I don't blame you for instantly envisioning thousands of newbies using the piece as an excuse for cranking out unambitious little noun lists -- workshops will do that to a person. But if you just shut all that out of your mind and take the Robert Francis piece for what it is, I think you'll find there's an enjoyable little poem there.

Okay, here's mine. I cheated a little bit.

Shipyardward

Hingham-heading ferryboat onboard ticket-check
high-heel quickstep clank-clank upperdeck

portside seatmate chitchat coffeecup
castoff seaspray laptop zipping-up

windsock ponytail windchime buoy-bell
drawbridge underside lowtide clamshell

shoreline seaweed mussel-bound jettyrock
dockside ropetied boatramp babywalk

sunburn sunset saltwater waveslop
seafood restaurant backdoor dinner-drop

summertime suppertime steamborne fish funk
parking lot windshield sun-dried gull gunk.


[This message has been edited by Rose Kelleher (edited June 14, 2006).]

And, as if you needed further evidence that I have no life: http://www.ramblingrose.com/audio/shipyardward.wav

Rose! What a delightful poem and recording! Don't worry, I have no life either! That's how I found this ten minutes after you posted it! I feel like I just took that boat ride on the ocean - what a marvelous poem! Thanks!
Mary
PS: I'm assuming that's your voice?

AGH! ROSE! It's your very own voice!

Jiminey Crickets, that's stupendous!

I love it. Your reading is too, too, too fun.

--CS

Yep, that's me. I'd have liked to do it without running out of breath at the end, but after several tries I was starting to feel a little light-headed. :)

[p.s. Rats! I just realized I said "windowshield" instead of "windshield" in the recording. Well, I'm not doing it again!]


[This message has been edited by Rose Kelleher (edited June 14, 2006).]

That's brilliant, Rose.

Rose. That's marvellous. You'd be a great Rossini singer ;)
Janet

Wish I could hear it! My computer just gives me a "Entry Point Not Found" banner. And I downloaded RealPlayer to avoid that. I wish I knew a computer expert who could suggest a way to get around that. That would be SO suhweeet.

Rose, and just think: if you'd said "windshield" you'd have saved a hole syllable of breath!

Loved this. You've gotta train up and put it on the stage, Mrs Worthington - at a reading that would be the one they'd all go wild for, eh.

KEB

.

[This message has been edited by Mary Meriam (edited November 23, 2006).]

Mary, that's adorable!