"Women Looking Up Into a Plum Tree," by Melanie McCabe -- Poetry Daily, 2/9/13

from History of the Body (David Robert Books)
poem found here
 

first lines:
Strung with whistle bones, frail reeds fledged, a bird
can fly or fold in, tuck beneath the wing the skull's
 

perfection in miniature

-- reformatted 12/10/2013
 

We seem to be running a string of posts on line breaks. Take a look here at the fourth stanza, the first line ending in "on." For me, it is a failure to recognize the rhythms of the language. First, there is nothing to be gained by having the line end on an unaccented preposition -- and such are like commas: unless there is a purpose for it, get rid of it. Second, by hanging the preposition the natural rhythm of the second line is destroyed: move the "on" down and what do you get?

on the BACK of her TONGUE, a LATE SEED con SI der (ing)

a wonderfully flowing sequence of syllables, starting off with a pair of two anapests (which are more lengthened iambs), followed by a nice continuing of play on iambs:

/ a LATE / SEED / con SI / der (ing)

So, not only was there something done with no gain, there was also something lost. (Actually, there is something lost in the first line as well, I nice iambic line destroyed with a superfluous and unnecessary iambic foot.)

I will say it again. Poetry is unavoidably an aural art. You have to take great pains to take the aural out of a written piece (such as with those instances of concrete poetry where the text is prosaic, if not easily recognized, and the true point of the work is the visual effect; or with Cage's "Writing Through Finnegans Wake" or such, which are intriguing language experiments but don't take you much farther than where they go). And if you are using line breaks, then they are part of the aural aspect of the poem, and must be recognized, controlled, and manipulated.

Now I admit that the use of a hanging "to" in "Nostalgia™" (yesterday's Poetry Daily) is within the context of a humorous poem, which this is not. But that retort is in honestly little more than a feint: while you may have made a distinction between the poems, you have not justified the use of "on" in "Women Looking Up."

I will here begin to use a phrase I most recently read on the cover of Ciaran Carson's Collected Works: "perfection in miniature." What does it mean as a statement on the aesthetic: the smaller the work, the more control is demanded. Yes, you can argue, "well, I am trying for a looser style." Well, that style still needs to be controlled, and, more to the point, created. Everything in a poem is created -- even the 'appearance' of looseness. (I point back to the moment in Impromptu, as regards composing an impromptu, in a post below.) And with sophisticated writers is very apparent how the feel of a piece may be loose, but the piece itself is still very crafted. (Look, perhaps, at Browning's poetry, like the ubiquitous "My Last Duchess," which people can read all the way through without realizing it is rhymed. It's a brilliant poem, in its working of meter and rhyme.)

You may try to fall back on the defense of a 'looser' style or such, but in the end you are really falling on a sword. Moments of lack of control, to a sophisticated reader, looks only like that: like lack of control. I'll repeat myself: the smaller the work, the more control is demanded. Why? Because you can. Failure to do so does nothing but make it look like you can't.

 
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A couple smaller comments. I believe it should be "riddled" not "riddle" I can't get a successful reading where desire is doing the riddling -- if that is meant, I would think the lines unsuccessful, not for being a little opaque, but for being conflicting. But, I want to say at some point that I realize that there is always the possibility that Poetry Daily mistyped a poem. Still, it is the poem as presented that I want to discuss. And, many times, an error points out something interesting.

Also, I enjoy that first stanza (the second half a lot). Except for the word can. And I am prompted to write on that word in exploration, but that would be many pages, and I am not sure if I could put into words what I want to say. Alas.

"Q" by Michael McFee -- Poetry Daily, 1/23/13

from Was That Oasis (Carnegie Mellon)
poem found here
 

first lines:
;U’s mate, O with a new root,
the one capital letter
 

the little things do count

-- a little editing 06/17/2013
-- reformatted, and minor edit 11/24/2013
 

I don’t mind little ditties. In truth, I really enjoy a clever little ditty. There’s a true place in poetry for them. (Yeat's oeuvre is full of them.) A collection of the better would be something worth having on the shelf – for fun and profit. The difficulty with a ditty, however, is that it takes very little for it to fall apart and drop from being a clever little poem to being nothing of note.

And I have problems with this poem.

Is ‘Q’ the only capital to drop below the line? Depends on the font. (It would have to be formal print fonts for the poem to make sense: in my handwriting Q, J, F, Z, sometimes Y, and occasionally X fall below.) Scroll down a fontlist you will see ‘J’ very frequently drops below. Nit picking? I don’t think so, here, where my very first thought on reading the first stanza was, “No, ‘J’ does also.” (As well, in many fonts 'Q' does not at all drop.)

So the, can this poem get away making that definitive -- and poem anchoring -- statement about the quality of the letter Q's tail? Is it a safe generalization? Here I think it fails: there is too hard an attempt to force the truth into the poem. The key to what I mean here is the question: does it matter to the poem? If it does terribly I would say the poem is fatally flawed by insisting it is the only letter with such a quality. But I do not think that is the case, here. It seems the idea could be wholly replaced – after all, there is no rhyme or meter here, so it is not like it would be that difficult.

Another issue: not much attention to grammar: that comma after line 3 really pisses me off. [And I just erased that particular rant: the poem doesn’t merit it.]

I have other problems with the poem, all small. “Parted quickly” seems forced. “Alphabet’s monarch” likewise: why is it so? Because of the tail? I would think the primary positioning of ‘A’ rather trumps a tail wagging far down the line. (Actually, I think the whole conceit of the poem – that there is some importance in the positioning of the tail – is forced.) “Fluent tongue” is a loose ideational tie to language, but it fails for me because “fluent” is not visual, and has nothing around it to give me reason for its existence.

One of the primary rules of poetry: if there is not a reason for it to exist in the poem, then it shouldn’t. (Thank you Mr. Pound.) And calling it ornament is not a get out of jail free card; ask any competent architect.

What is my point? Too many small errors. “Q” does not come off as a neat little ditty (neat works two ways, there) – it comes off as a quick throwaway you draft during half time of a game on a napkin to see if it gets a quick laugh, then to be thrown away. Just because it’s a short little what-not, does not excuse the poet from making a tight poem. I am reminded of the line from the film Impromptu, where Chopin (Hugh Grant) is explaining to George Sand (Judy Davis) the difficulty in writing an impromptu: how to create a piece that is well structured, well crafted, but sounds like it is off the cuff. Notice the reversal: a good little ditty is a well-crafted piece that comes off sounding like a little ditty. Saying “Oh, it’s just a little ditty,” does not justify poor craftsmanship.