07-19-2014, 12:02 PM
Paul,
"I wanted it to be an awkwardly rhyming poem that gives up the rhyme completely in the end. I do this quite often. Do you guys think this is a style habit I should move away from or just improve upon?"
This is something I have been doing for years, where one uses various aspect of the form and other tropes to accentuate. I think it is a valid thing to try and practice on, but be prepared for it to fail more than it succeeds, that's my experience at least. A poem I wrote (below) used the sonnet form to begin with, but as the reader sees the woman is somewhat less than perfect, the sonnet form begins to derogate at pace with the negative facts are revealed.
She was almost a sonnet
Shall I compare you to the moon at night?
When pregnant round and glowing should be soft,
But instead, hard cold edges of reflected light,
Anger, not love, keeps this light aloft.
Or, maybe to the gentle summer sun?
A warm and lusty caress of love’s passion,
But instead of love, gives forth a burn,
From your sharp tongue’s lashing.
No, I will not demean the moon or sun,
For such a woman as you,
I’ll flee from such comparisons,
As from the sun does morning dew.
Updating should be instantaneous, although the site was down for awhile for maintenance which could have something to do with it or not. My experience has been that once the page reloads, the changes will be there.
Dale
"I wanted it to be an awkwardly rhyming poem that gives up the rhyme completely in the end. I do this quite often. Do you guys think this is a style habit I should move away from or just improve upon?"
This is something I have been doing for years, where one uses various aspect of the form and other tropes to accentuate. I think it is a valid thing to try and practice on, but be prepared for it to fail more than it succeeds, that's my experience at least. A poem I wrote (below) used the sonnet form to begin with, but as the reader sees the woman is somewhat less than perfect, the sonnet form begins to derogate at pace with the negative facts are revealed.
She was almost a sonnet
Shall I compare you to the moon at night?
When pregnant round and glowing should be soft,
But instead, hard cold edges of reflected light,
Anger, not love, keeps this light aloft.
Or, maybe to the gentle summer sun?
A warm and lusty caress of love’s passion,
But instead of love, gives forth a burn,
From your sharp tongue’s lashing.
No, I will not demean the moon or sun,
For such a woman as you,
I’ll flee from such comparisons,
As from the sun does morning dew.
Updating should be instantaneous, although the site was down for awhile for maintenance which could have something to do with it or not. My experience has been that once the page reloads, the changes will be there.
Dale
How long after picking up the brush, the first masterpiece?
The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.
The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.