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Creative Writing: Poetry, Lesson One

Wednesday, October 26, 7:00PM FST

Welcome to your poetry writing class. Find a place to sit where you're comfortable, although I'll ask that you keep toward the front of the room.

We'll begin with introductions: tell everyone your name and why you signed up for the class.

[Following introductions, the class is treated to a brief lecture.] Let's first talk a little about how poetry is defined.

The word poetry is derived from the Greek word 'poeio', meaning "I create". It is a written art form in which language is used for its aesthetic qualities in addition to -- or sometimes instead of -- its semantic content. The emphasis on the aesthetics of language and the deliberate use of elements such as repetition, meter and rhyme, distinguish poetry from prose. Poetry is generally considered its own literary genre, but it can also occur within other genres. Plays, for example may be prosaic, poetic or a combination of the two.

In order to write poetry, you'll need to have an understanding of the various elements used in verse. We'll begin today with three of the most basic: rhyme, meter, and figures of speech.

Rhyme is the repetition of identical or similar sounds in two or more different words.

Meter refers to the linguistic sound patterns of verse.

Figures of speech: There are numerous examples of this element, but let's begin with the most common.

Personification occurs when an object, animal or abstract term is given human qualities.
Apostrophe is a manner of addressing someone or something that is invisible or not ordinarily spoken to.
Hyperbole, often referred to as 'overstatement', is the use of exaggeration for effect. Its opposite, understatement, occurs when more is implied than is stated.
Metonymy is the substitution of the name of a thing with that of an object or concept that is closely related. A form of metonymy is Synecdoche, where a part of a thing is used to stand in for the whole, or vice versa. Transferred epithet, another form of metonymy, applies the attributes characteristic of a thing to another which is closely related.
Paradox refers to a situation which at first appears to be self-contradictory but on reflection makes some sense.

Now: I'd like each of you to choose one of the elements I just defined -- including the various types of figures of speech -- and give me an example.

[Following the lecture]

All right, enough discussion of the technicalities. Let's share some poetry. Please read the piece you brought to class, and then tell use why you chose it.

***Assignment for next week: Begin reading Petrarch's Canzoniere (yes, there are 366 poems, no you don't have to read them all). Also, please leave me a message on my voicemail if you're interested in applying for the position of Teaching Assistant. I'll be interviewing applicants over the next fortnight.***

((Kindly use the threads provided for your comments!))

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[Comment here to share your poem with the class.]

Paige refuses to read out the poem she'd bought but instead hand's it over to Geoff

Pity me, though fairest rose
And turn not away thine eyes.
I care no more for pallid moon,
Graceless star, nor harsh-faced sun,
Enchanted thus by such sweet light

"I wasn't going to lie" she says handing it over

[Geoff blushes, then hands the poem back to Paige.] Would you please share with class why you chose it?

Paige closes her eyes for just a second and takes a deep breath why the hell is he doing this?

"I chose it because it means a lot to me personally and I think it's beautiful, the sentiment, the words it's just beautiful"

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Kiki opens her book, a battered, dog-eared tome with "Collected Poems of Robert Service" on the cover, and begins:

"The Man Who Knew:

The Dreamer visioned Life as it might be,
And from his dream forthright a picture grew,
A painting all the people thronged to see,
And joyed therein -- till came the Man Who Knew,
Saying: "'Tis bad! Why do ye gape, ye fools!
He painteth not according to the schools."

The Dreamer probed Life's mystery of woe,
And in a book he sought to give the clue;
The people read, and saw that it was so,
And read again -- then came the Man Who Knew,
Saying: "Ye witless ones! this book is vile:
It hath not got the rudiments of style."

Love smote the Dreamer's lips, and silver clear
He sang a song so sweet, so tender true,
That all the market-place was thrilled to hear,
And listened rapt -- till came the Man Who Knew,
Saying: "His technique's wrong; he singeth ill.
Waste not your time." The singer's voice was still.

And then the people roused as if from sleep,
Crying: "What care we if it be not Art!
Hath he not charmed us, made us laugh and weep?
Come, let us crown him where he sits apart."
Then, with his picture spurned, his book unread,
His song unsung, they found their Dreamer -- dead."

(deleted comment)

It's a beautiful choice, Kiki. Thank you for sharing.

Re: POETRY SHARING

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(deleted comment)

Kiki explains, "I like this poem because... well, yes, things like rhyme and meter are important, but how a poem touches the reader is just as important, too. You can't be so wrapped up in rules and regulations that you lose the beauty of the subject. More than anything, I think art needs to evoke a response from the audience. Art can teach, but no one will listen or take the lesson unless they are affected by it."

"I chose just a part, because the entire poem is...rather long. It's from 'the Tale of sir Thopas' from the Caterbury Tales.

Listeth, lordes, in good entent,
And I wol telle verrayment
Of myrthe and of solas;
Al of a knyght was fair and gent
In bataille and in tourneyment,
His name was sire thopas.

Yborn he was in fer contree,
In flaundres, al biyonde the see,
At poperyng, in the place.
His fader was a man ful free,
And lord he was of that contree,
As it was goddes grace.

Sire thopas wax a doghty swayn;
Whit was his face as payndemayn,
His lippes rede as rose;
His rode is lyk scarlet in grayn,
And I yow telle in good certayn,
He hadde a semely nose."

After reciting this, Edward sits down again as quickly as possible.

[Geoff stares in surprise at Edward. Regaining his composure, he gives a broad smile.] Thank you Edward. Would you...please tell everyone why you chose this poem?

((Yes- Ed is very fond of satire in medieval poetry...who would've known? ;) ))

"Eh well eh...i chose the poem because it sounds really good when you say it out loud, like the rythm and the rhyming and it's just cute ~~and sir thopas sounds like he's one pretty young man~~" Ed nods and sits down again.

Re: POETRY SHARING

geoff-chaucer.livejournal.com - 2005-10-26 19:02 (UTC) - Expand

"This is by, um, Sylvia Plath. I think she was like 20 when she wrote it. It's called 'Mad Girl's Love Song'." Angela tells the class before she begins to read.

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"

Thank you, Angela. That was a beautiful choice. And you've succeeded in one of the hidden goals of this class -- you've introduced at least one of us to something new. [He smiles at her.] Now, will you tell us why you chose this particular poem?

"Thank you," Angela says. She frowns slightly. "I chose it because ... I guess because, to me, it has this really strong emotional hold? It feels like falling in love and having a relationship end -- completely wonderful and terrifying and, just, y'know, overwhelming."

Lisa looks a bit uncomfortable sharing. "I chose At the Fishhouses (http://www.favoritepoem.org/poems/bishop/index.html) by Elizabeth Bishop.

The imagery, and the emotion of the piece... I guess they are personally significant."

[Geoff gives her a reassuring smile.] One of the most interesting things about poetry is its ability to have a profound impact on our emotions. Thank you, Lisa.

From Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman.

32.

I think I could turn and live with animals, they are so placid and self-contain’d;
I stand and look at them long and long.

They do not sweat and whine about their condition;
They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins;
They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God;
Not one is dissatisfied—not one is demented with the mania of owning things;
Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago;
Not one is respectable or industrious over the whole earth.

So they show their relations to me, and I accept them;
They bring me tokens of myself—they evince them plainly in their possession.

And I like the poem, believe it or not, because of the rhythm of the words as well as the way he taps into the longing for the simplistic life of animals.

Not to mention I like the poet.

Sometimes the most profound effect a poem can have is not in its meaning but in the sound of the words themselves, the way they feel in your mouth as you speak them and how they dance in your ears when you hear them. [He grins.] Thank you, Chihaya.

*Hamlet suddenly realizes that he'd forgotten to bring a poem with him, so he roots through his pockets until he finds his journal. He flips through it looking for something*

I don't know if we are permitted our own work as of yet, but I wrote this Sunday evening as I was still under the influence of the Plot Gnu's sonnets.

Tired with all these, for restful death I cry,
As to behold desert a beggar born,
And needy nothing trimm'd in jollity,
And purest faith unhappily forsworn,
And gilded honour shamefully misplac'd,
And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted,
And right perfection wrongfully disgrac'd,
And strength by limping sway disabled
And art made tongue-tied by authority,
And folly, doctor-like, controlling skill,
And simple truth miscall'd simplicity,
And captive good attending captain ill:
Tir'd with all these, from these would I be gone,
Save that, to die, I leave my love alone.

[OOC: Shaespeare's Sonnet #66. Seemed to fit well.]

Very nice, Hamlet! I haven't a clue what a Plot Gnu is, but I'd say it's very good work. Since you wrote this yourself rather than choosing the work of another, why don't you tell us what your inspiration was?

*DEATH hands you a peice of paper, which glows faintly blue. It reads:

l(a

le
af
fa
ll

s)
one
l

iness

This is fascinating. [He passes the paper around the room so everyone can read it.] We'll be getting into blank verse and atypical form later in the course, and you've provided us with an excellent example.

It's also a good example of how poetry, in just a very few words, can depict a much larger concept and evoke a profound response.

Rory clears her throat, and reads aloud in a clear voice.

"My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.

Sonnet one hundred thirty, by William Shakespeare."

[Smiles appreciatively] And why this poem, Rory?

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