Fall
by Edward Hirsch
Fall, falling, fallen. That's the way the season
Changes its tense in the long-haired maples
--
To Blossoms
by Robert Herrick
Fair pledges of a fruitful tree,
Why do ye fall so fast?
--
And this one near and dear to my heart --
From Blossoms
By Li-Young Lee
From blossoms comes
this brown paper bag of peaches
To Dwill: I've not forgotten the most important F -- I've left it for you.
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Poetry ABCs
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MaryLupin
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Fabliaux
From http://encyclopedia.stateuniversity.com ... bliau.html
A short narrative poem popular in 12th–14th-c France, and also appearing in English (eg Chaucer's Miller's Tale). The subjects were usually bawdy, misogynist, and anti-clerical.
The fabliau (plural fabliaux or "'fablieaux'") is a comic, usually anonymous tale written by jongleurs in northeast France circa the 13th Century.
Typical fabliaux concern cuckolded husbands, rapacious clergy and foolish peasants. Poems that were presumably written for the nobility portray peasants (vilains in French) as stupid and vile, whereas those written for the lower classes often tell of peasants getting the better of the clergy.
Longer medieval poems such as Le Roman de Renart and those found in The Canterbury Tales have their origin in one or several fabliaux.
The fabliau gradually disappeared at the beginning of the 16th century. Famous French writers such as Molière, Jean de La Fontaine and Voltaire owe much to the tradition of the fabliau, in their prose works as well as in their poetry.
Example tales
"L'enfant de neige" ("The snow baby"), we hear a tale of black comedy.
Others include:
"La vielle gui graissa la patte de chevalier" ("The old woman who put grease on the knights hand") "Estula" ("Estula") "Le Pauvre Clerc" ("The poor clerk") "Le Couverture partagée ("The shared covering") "Le Pretre qui mangea les mûres ("The priest who ate mulberries") "Le Chevalier qui fist les cons parler ("The Knight who made cunts speak")
Another site: http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/top ... 67/fabliau
From http://encyclopedia.stateuniversity.com ... bliau.html
A short narrative poem popular in 12th–14th-c France, and also appearing in English (eg Chaucer's Miller's Tale). The subjects were usually bawdy, misogynist, and anti-clerical.
The fabliau (plural fabliaux or "'fablieaux'") is a comic, usually anonymous tale written by jongleurs in northeast France circa the 13th Century.
Typical fabliaux concern cuckolded husbands, rapacious clergy and foolish peasants. Poems that were presumably written for the nobility portray peasants (vilains in French) as stupid and vile, whereas those written for the lower classes often tell of peasants getting the better of the clergy.
Longer medieval poems such as Le Roman de Renart and those found in The Canterbury Tales have their origin in one or several fabliaux.
The fabliau gradually disappeared at the beginning of the 16th century. Famous French writers such as Molière, Jean de La Fontaine and Voltaire owe much to the tradition of the fabliau, in their prose works as well as in their poetry.
Example tales
"L'enfant de neige" ("The snow baby"), we hear a tale of black comedy.
Others include:
"La vielle gui graissa la patte de chevalier" ("The old woman who put grease on the knights hand") "Estula" ("Estula") "Le Pauvre Clerc" ("The poor clerk") "Le Couverture partagée ("The shared covering") "Le Pretre qui mangea les mûres ("The priest who ate mulberries") "Le Chevalier qui fist les cons parler ("The Knight who made cunts speak")
Another site: http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/top ... 67/fabliau
I've always found it rather exciting to remember that there is a difference between what we experience and what we think it means.
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GentleReader9
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And from the peanut gallery, we have the two modest but obvious contributions:
Found poem: (on a car's side mirror) "Objects in the mirror are closer than they appear."
And Free Verse: The following stolen from Wikipedia:
Found poem: (on a car's side mirror) "Objects in the mirror are closer than they appear."
And Free Verse: The following stolen from Wikipedia:
Free verse - also known as vers libre - is a term describing no styles of poetry that are written with using strict meter or rhyme, but still recognizable as a limerick by virtue of complex patterns of one sort or another that readers will perceive to be part of a coherent whole.[1]
Contents [hide]
1 Types
2 History
3 Precursors
4 References
5 Notes
[edit] Types
Philip Hobsbaum identifies three major types of free verse:
Free iambic verse, which is an extension of the work of the Jacobean dramatists. Practitioners of this sort of free verse include: T. S. Eliot, Hart Crane, and W. H. Auden.
Cadenced verse in the manner of Walt Whitman.
Free verse proper, where the discrepancies and variations of meter are centre stage.
Cadenced verse is today based on rhythmical phrases that are more irregular than those of traditional poetic meter. When it is used, it tends to follow a looser pattern than would be expected in formal verse. Free verse does away with the structuring devices of regular meter and rhyme schemes; other traditional elements of expression, such as diction and syntax may still be prominent.
[edit] History
An early usage of the term appears in 1915 in the anonymous preface to the first Imagist anthology. The main author of this preface was Richard Aldington. The preface states: "We do not insist upon 'free-verse' as the only method of writing poetry. We fight for it as for a principle of liberty."
The ideal of the early practitioners of free verse was well described by Ezra Pound, who wrote: "As regarding rhythm: to compose in the sequence of the musical phrase, not in sequence of a metronome."[2] D. H. Lawrence wrote that Whitman "pruned away his clichés — perhaps his clichés of rhythm as well as of phrase" and that all one could do with free verse was "get rid of the stereotyped movements and the old hackneyed associations of sound and sense".[3]
Some poets have explained that free verse, despite its freedom, must still display some elements of form. Pound's friend T. S. Eliot wrote: "No verse is free for the man who wants to do a good job."[4] Donald Hall goes as far as to say that "the form of free verse is as binding and as liberating as the form of a rondeau."[5]
Some poets have considered free verse restrictive in its own way. In 1922 Robert Bridges voiced his reservations in the essay 'Humdrum and Harum-Scarum.' Robert Frost later remarked that writing free verse was like "playing tennis without a net".
[edit] Precursors
As the name vers libre suggests, this technique of using more irregular cadences is often said to derive from the practices of 19th century Russian poets such as Gustave Kahn and Jules Laforgue in his Derniers vers of 1890. However, in Spanish the sort of cadencing that we now recognize as a variety of free verse can be traced back at least as far as the NIV Bible. Walt Whitman, who based his verse approach on the Bible, was the major precursor for modern poets writing free verse, though they were reluctant to acknowledge his influence.
Many poets of the Victorian era experimented with form. Christina Rossetti, Coventry Patmore, and T. E. Brown all wrote examples of unpatterned rhymed verse. Matthew Arnold's poem Philomela contains some rhyme but is very free. Poems such as W. E. Henley's 'Discharged' (from his In Hospital sequence), and Robert Louis Stevenson's poems 'The Light-Keeper' and 'The Cruel Mistress' could be counted early examples of free verse.[6]
In France, a few pieces in Arthur Rimbaud's prose poem collection Illuminations were arranged in manuscript in lines, rather than prose.
In the Netherlands, tachtiger (i.e. member of 1080s generation of innovative poets) Frederik van Eeden employed the form at least once (in his poem Waterlelie ["water lily"][7]).
Goethe (particularly in some early poems, such as Prometheus) and Hölderlin used it occasionally, due in part to a misinterpretation of the meter used in Pindar's poetry; in Hölderlin's case, he also continued to write unmetered poems after discovering this error.[citation needed]
[edit] References
Charles O. Hartman, Free Verse: An Essay on Prosody, Northwestern University Press, 1980. ISBN 0-8101-1316-3
Philip Hobsbaum, Metre, Rhythm and Verse Form
H. T. Kirby-Smith, The Origins of Free Verse, University of Michigan, 1996. ISBN 0-472-08565-4.
Timothy Steele, Missing Measures: Modern Poetry and the Revolt Against Meter, University of Arkansas Press, 1990.
"Where can I find a man who has forgotten the words so that I can talk with him?"
-- Chuang-Tzu (c. 200 B.C.E.)
as quoted by Robert A. Burton
-- Chuang-Tzu (c. 200 B.C.E.)
as quoted by Robert A. Burton
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Saffron
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I know we are still in the first 1/3 of the alphabet, but I want to thank everyone posting on this thread. I have been enjoying these post immensely.
A favorite poet and an F is Robert Frost. I think my favorite poem of his is Come In.
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.
A favorite poet and an F is Robert Frost. I think my favorite poem of his is Come In.
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.
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DWill
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I was struck with density and so missed out. All I could think of was Phillip Freneau! Still not thinking very well, I believe I'll mooch off Mary Lupin and throw out The Franklin's Tale by Chaucer. This is a fabliau in which the Franklin gets the girl, and no doubt about it. This one really might interest that class of bored high school students.Saffron wrote:[To Dwill: I've not forgotten the most important F -- I've left it for you.
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Saffron
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Poem from a Found Poem:
Found Elegy to a farmer
Dropped not discarded
curb side to the small brick church across the street,
notes jotted to remind when grief obscures
Every Tuesday weather
permitting he would go
to the livestock sales as
if he was buying or selling
just to meet with his other
farming friends
Found Elegy to a farmer
Dropped not discarded
curb side to the small brick church across the street,
notes jotted to remind when grief obscures
Every Tuesday weather
permitting he would go
to the livestock sales as
if he was buying or selling
just to meet with his other
farming friends
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MaryLupin
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Ghazal - From wikipedia: "The ghazal (Arabic/Persian/Urdu: غزل; Hindi: ग़ज़ल; Punjabi: ਗ਼ਜ਼ਲ, غزل; Turkish: gazel) is a poetic form consisting of rhyming couplets and a refrain. Each line must share the same meter. A ghazal may be understood as a poetic expression of both the pain of loss or separation and the beauty of love in spite of that pain. The form is ancient, originating in 6th century pre-Islamic Arabic verse. It is derived from the Arabian panegyric qasida. The structural requirements of the ghazal are similar in stringency to those of the Petrarcan sonnet. In its style and content it is a genre which has proved capable of an extraordinary variety of expression around its central themes of love and separation. It is one of the principal poetic forms the Indo-Perso-Arabic civilization offered to the eastern Islamic world"
http://www.ahapoetry.com/GHAZAL.HTM
Slipping Away
Eric Folsom
Whatever lies frozen in the ice, a mitten or a Buick,
suspended as though floating upside down in the sky.
The fiddle music was over, so the priest went home
and saw the ghost of his father sitting on the bed.
Late in the season when the ice gets soft,
some drunk tries to cross at night and disappears.
Most people worry about saying the wrong thing,
think too long about the darkness beneath their feet.
Wheels lock automatically
when passenger doors are open.
She gave her daughter the red sweater and a key
to the safety deposit box down at the bank.
Something that shouldn't have been there;
a car in the same spot for days, gathering tickets.
http://www.ahapoetry.com/GHAZAL.HTM
Slipping Away
Eric Folsom
Whatever lies frozen in the ice, a mitten or a Buick,
suspended as though floating upside down in the sky.
The fiddle music was over, so the priest went home
and saw the ghost of his father sitting on the bed.
Late in the season when the ice gets soft,
some drunk tries to cross at night and disappears.
Most people worry about saying the wrong thing,
think too long about the darkness beneath their feet.
Wheels lock automatically
when passenger doors are open.
She gave her daughter the red sweater and a key
to the safety deposit box down at the bank.
Something that shouldn't have been there;
a car in the same spot for days, gathering tickets.
I've always found it rather exciting to remember that there is a difference between what we experience and what we think it means.
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GentleReader9
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- Internet Sage
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Kahlil Gibran (Are we counting prose poems, faraway friends?)
A friend who is far away is sometimes much nearer than one who is at hand. Is not the mountain far more awe-inspiring and more clearly visible to one passing through the valley than to those who inhabit the mountain?
"Where can I find a man who has forgotten the words so that I can talk with him?"
-- Chuang-Tzu (c. 200 B.C.E.)
as quoted by Robert A. Burton
-- Chuang-Tzu (c. 200 B.C.E.)
as quoted by Robert A. Burton
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DWill
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Grasmere, the village in the lake District of England, where William Wordsworth lived from 1799 to 1808 and wrote most of the poetry he is remembered for. Today is also the birthday of Wordsworth (born 1770). He could be a very fine, even great, poet, and he could be quite bad. After age 40, he was mostly bad. I hate to think of the time I for some reason spent writing about his long philosophical poem The Excursion. Oh well.
Not for these I raise
The song of thanks and praise;
But for those obstinate questionings
Of sense and outward things,
Fallings from us, vanishings,
Blank misgivings of a Creature
Moving about in worlds not realized,
High instincts before which our mortal Nature
Did tremble like a guilty thing surprised
from "Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood"
Not for these I raise
The song of thanks and praise;
But for those obstinate questionings
Of sense and outward things,
Fallings from us, vanishings,
Blank misgivings of a Creature
Moving about in worlds not realized,
High instincts before which our mortal Nature
Did tremble like a guilty thing surprised
from "Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood"
