Earl Gray

Earl Gray
"You can argue with me but, in the end, you'll have to face that fact that you're arguing with a squirrel." - Earl Gray

Monday, April 29, 2013

Cadas - Part III


Approaches, Structures and Forms

     A structure is the presence (as in meter) or absence (as in free verse) of a set number and/or position of items (e.g. lines, stanzas, feet, beats, alliterations, syllables, etc.) in a poem.  For example, iambic trimeter quatrains comprise a structure:  4-line stanzas, each line having three iambic feet. 

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #42
     If and when a structure is recognized it becomes a form, acquiring a common, often evolving, use along the way.  For example, limericks were originally employed for political commentary.  Today, they are associated with bawdiness:  "There once was a man from Nantucket..."  Villanelles went in the opposite direction, from being light verse to serving as urgent entreaties such as "Do not go gentle into that good night".  In short, a form is a structure that has "arrived".

     An approach is a treatment or refashioning of a structure/form.  These may involve rearranging or deleting linebreaks.  To wit, a curgina such as "Beans" presents verse with free verse linebreaks.  Corata, such as the iambic tetrameter "Shadows" or the double sonnet "This Won't Make Sense", is verse with the linebreaks, but not generally the stanza/paragraph breaks, removed.
   
     The most difficult approach is the reverser, such as Jon Reed's "Lost Generation", which makes sense when its words are read forwards then, backwards.

Cadas

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #25
     A cada involves [usually plain] language that contains strings of text which, only if viewed in isolation and in context, address an integral aspect of the theme.  As we'll see, that central theme or context can be evident or undisclosed--or both!  These "strings of text" can be lines (the "cada línea"), phrases (the "cada frase") or sentences (the "cada oración").

    Like Ezra Pound's "In a Station of the Metro", "Paradise Has No Colonies" is iambic free verse.  Notice how each line, if viewed independently, addresses a different subtheme typically associated with prostitution:

    Rosie knows the night            - experience
    is a forgiving                   - redemption
    thing. She takes her daughter's  - incest
    corner, posing just a little     - artifice
    further from the street          - intimidation

    light. It's a school             - street-wise education
    night for Lynn; someone          - humanization in obscurity
    will have the children           - motherhood
    in bed by ten.                   - pedophilia

      "Paradise Has No Colonies" adopts the tone of most "direct" cadas we've seen, similar to the opening scenes of a dimestore horror novel:  prosey and prosaic, with a hint of foreboding.  The references are direct, if a little jumbled (e.g. "she takes her daughter's...thing" for incest).  By contrast, the "indirect" "This Won't Make Sense" is a bumpier ride, relying more on jump cuts, like Bob Dylan's "Subterranean Homesick Blues", and on allusions that don't become evident until after the final couplet.  




        You bring us back to beaches, bonfires, flames that flutter like the wings of butterflies.  You tease a gap-toothed child.  A baseball game begins, the math of farm team hits and tries, of boys in shirts and shorts and gel-spiked hair.  They'll take the Number 7 subway train to watch some football, giants battling bears or other beasts.  One plays a video game.     

     The boss, in a hoop skirt and bobby socks, surveys the paintings of dancehalls and gifts.  The music rests.  The actors eat cupcakes.  The therapist observes.  Her reading glasses shift.  A Labrador detects a silent cue.  It barks.  It runs in rings and waits for you.  

     The sunlight fades your dress and curls, but you're not home until you hug your pup.  Drawing pink and purple lambs, a girl devours her chocolate peanut butter cup.  As tiny voices sing an old jazz tune caretakers pass along their business cards.  A spaniel jumps a soccer ball and, soon, an artist grabs her pencils and regards the scene:  the dog's ballet, the jazz, the sheep;  all fit here like a horse and cowboy boots.  Beyond the pool we watch an arrow's steep descent, to land so deep within our roots.  

     Such was the fall, before the winter took the green and gilded leaves of Sandy Hook.




Conclusion:

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #12

     How does the cada fit in with Rule #12?  If they like the surface story readers might appreciate "Paradise Has No Colonies" without ever understanding the subtext.  Bearing in mind that the future (and past) of poetry is in audiovideo, a "This Won't Make Sense" slideshow presentation would make the contexts clear through pictures of the victims and the references evident through annotations onscreen.

     In conclusion, the cada, is anti-synergetic:  the whole is significantly less than the sum of its parts. 




Saturday, April 27, 2013

Cadas - Part IIb

     Here is "This Won't Make Sense" in full, complete with hyperlink photos and footnotes:

                                    http://www.firesides.ca/CadaIIb.html



Friday, April 26, 2013

Cadas - Part IIa

Consider this almost complete effort:



                                         This Won't Make Sense

    You bring us back to beaches, bonfires, flames that flutter like the wings of butterflies.  You tease a gap-toothed child.  A baseball game begins, the math of farm team hits and tries, of boys in shirts and shorts and gel-spiked hair.  They'll take the Number 7 subway train to watch some football, giants battling bears or other beasts.  One plays a video game.     

     The boss, in a hoop skirt and bobby socks, surveys the paintings of dancehalls and gifts.  The music rests.  The actors eat cupcakes.  The therapist observes.  Her reading glasses shift.  A Labrador detects a silent cue.  It barks.  It runs in rings and waits for you.  

     The sunlight fades your dress and curls, but you're not home until you hug your pup.  Drawing pink and purple lambs, a girl devours her chocolate peanut butter cup.  As tiny voices sing an old jazz tune caretakers pass along their business cards.  A spaniel traps a soccer ball and, soon, an artist grabs her pencils and regards the scene:  the dog's ballet, the jazz, the sheep;  all fit here like a horse and cowboy boots.  Beyond the pool we watch an arrow's steep descent, to land so deep within our roots.



       Please feel free to give us your impressions below before viewing the reveal, including the final sentence.




Thursday, April 25, 2013

Cadas - Part I

What is your impression of this poem?

 
Paradise Has No Colonies



Saturday, April 6, 2013

Earl Gray interviewing a poet

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #41
Earl:  "...and do you hope to maintain this level of writing?"

Poet:  "Yes."

Earl:  "That's the saddest thing I've ever heard."


Thursday, April 4, 2013

Heart of a Poet

Karen Solie
     We here at Commercial Poetry deal with poetry, not poets.  This foray into uncharted waters is an exception, but one with a larger point.  To appreciate this discussion, we need to put aside various weightier questions, beginning with whether or not we should feature failed poets during an era that has no successful ones.  The issue is how technology has reduced production costs while expanding the size of our potential audience.  Together, these should, in theory at least, be a boon to literature and its promoters.

Andrea Thompson
    The "Heart of a Poet" series was produced by Maureen Judge and hosted by Andrea Thompson.  It aired on "Bravo!" and "Book" television in Canada for two seasons, ending in 2007.  It included interviews and performance samples by Page and, in some cases, Stage poets from across that country.  Of the ones I saw, a few were rather good:  George Elliott Clarke (Episode 210), Anne Simpson (207) and Karen Solie (Episode 109).  Some, like Ray Hsu (Episode 212), were amusing.  The less said about others I saw and the cloying title of the series, the better.



George Elliot Clarke
    One of the problems with "Heart of a Poet" was the limited viewership, even among those few interested in poets.  These shows aired during prime time on cable television;  at least one of the channels was not part of basic cable.  From all appearances and with exceptions noted above, little of the verse had much popular or aesthetic appeal.

    How would you like to produce a superior series without a budget that will attract hundreds of times as many viewers as "Heart of a Poet" did?  If nothing else, you'll be popular in your local poetry community!

Ann Simpson
    Grab a video recorder (a GoPro would be more than sufficient) and someone who knows a little about editing.  Find an attractive host and some willing poets.  (Few would turn you down.)  Your local writers' group or publishers should be able to line you up with all the talent you need, including more than enough poets from the Book world.  Ask for volunteers at your local open mike and slam outlets.  Go to Eratosphere, Poetry Free-For-All or Gazebo and ask if there are interested Onliners in your area.  (If so, you may have scored a real coup!  Many of those characters are notoriously camera shy but can bring in a sizeable network of viewers.)

     Shoot and edit your videos, post them to YouTube, and publish the URLs and bios in venues such as your local writers' group's newsletter and site.

     Voilà!

      You're done.


Performance Contest Marketing

Adrian Mitchell
     Let's face it.  Poetry is a tough sale.

     Nevertheless, it isn't necessarily an impossible sale.  Suppose there were a plan that could allow your tiny publication (let's call it "The Fleshlight Press") to produce the most successful verse tome of our time:  "The Fleshlight Poetry Anthology, Volume 1".  Would that interest you?

     We begin by examining what works.  Many literary magazines conduct writing contests combining entry and subscription fees.  For example, a subscription to BOMB or Rattle qualifies you for a significant cash prize if they select your poetry over everyone else's.  This "Contest Marketing" is moderately successful but suffers from a significant limitation:  it involves only poetry producers, not poetry consumers.  (There may also be legal considerations in jurisdictions where the need to purchase something in order to win a prize constitutes a lottery, which would require licensing.)  By catering to the [over]production side rather than the [as yet nonexistent] demand side, Contest Marketing typically results in a lot of subscribers who see no need to read the underlying publication.

     The brilliant Poetry Out Loud Performance Contest encourages the public's participation as aspirants (teenagers in their case) compete to see who can best perform poems that the organizers have selected.

     Suppose you were to combine these two concepts.  Start by raising some cash for a prize fund (and judges' fees?).  The good news is that you won't have to pay these monies out until well after publication.

     Now suppose you create an anthology of poems that, unlike many of the modern ones in Poetry Out Loud, have significant performance value (roughly:  excellent mnemonics combined with drama and/or humor).  You'll need to tell the authors of your plans before they agree to participate.  Some silly ones may object to having their poem performed by thousands of people all over the world.

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #32
    You publish your compendium with contest rules on the back cover.  These are simple:  entrants videorecord a performance of any poem in the collection, post it online (e.g. Vimeo, YouTube) under the name of the book (e.g. "The Fleshlight Poetry Anthology, Volume 1"), and email you their contact information (i.e. name, email address, phone number) and the URL of their video before the deadline stated.  After the deadline passes your judges make their decision and the prize is announced.  No purchase is necessary;  one might find a copy of your book at the local library (perhaps after nudging their purchasing agent in that direction).  The rules are mirrored on your web site.

     Your biggest challenge will be getting the word out.  You'll need to use every tack possible:  social media, writers' organizations, the university presses (including student newspapers), blogs, online forums, 'zines, email, etc,

     From the potential participant's point of view this is a free shot at some cash. 

     "No entry fee?  No purchase necessary?  Just stand in front of a webcam, recite a poem, post it and send out an email?  What have I got to lose?  I'm in!"

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #19
     From your point of view it could be a bonanza.  A significant percentage of respondents and lending institutions will purchase your anthology.  Vimeo, YouTube and other venues will feature your title, "The Fleshlight Poetry Anthology, Volume 1", on thousands of posts.  Every day, millions of people will see that title on "most recent posts" lists and web searches.  Your judges can screen the entries as they appear.  Meanwhile, you have already begun work on "The Fleshlight Poetry Anthology, Volume #2".

     Nota bene:  your local writers' group may be of great assistance in this endeavor.




Angster [c]rap

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #10
   Just as the Print World is about poets and the Online World about poems, slam is about angst.  A [usually young] poet screams into a microphone for three minutes.  The subject matter has a range almost as narrow as the voice modulation, extending no further beyond belly-gazing than belly-aching.  The form, if any, is often overstressed syllables and random rhymes.  In short, it is angster [c]rap.

     This is not to say that the state of the art in the Print World is any better.  It is worse.  Slammers transport us to a time just after language was developed, offering us a unique glimpse into poetry's formative stage.  When PoBiz types lapse into incoherence, as they often do, they take us back further still.  This fascinating anthropological journey becomes abundantly evident whenever we add an actual poet into the mix.

     A year ago my mentor announced that he was going to a slam.  Naturally, I tagged along, if only to see someone stand out like a palm tree in Tuktoyaktuk.  Not surprisingly, his parody of Mitt Romney as a weathervane was an oasis of fun in the S'noran Desert. 

     The judging was too bizarre for words.  No biggy.  What mattered were the things that were not obvious...at least not immediately so.

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #38
     We continued to attend slams and open microphones.  In my role as your reporter, I interviewed people I'd seen at the previous events, asking what they remembered about them.  Without exception, they mentioned my teacher's performances.  I got the sense that, if the judging were delayed a few days, the old man's presentations would have been the only ones people could recall.  More important was the body language.  While the "beautiful screamers" were dropping their loads onstage everyone sat back in their chairs, nodding whenever they agreed with a sentiment being expressed, their art receptors set in the "Off" position.  When my instructor spoke everyone leaned forward in their seats, smiling.  Afterwards, some might pay him the ultimate compliment, asking for a hardcopy or URL for his poem and, in rare cases, permission to use it elsewhere.  (N.B.:  Slams feature original works only.)  Over time, some of the more ambitious poets would ask for his critique, before or after their performances.
  
Earl the Squirrel's Rule #40
   Eons ago, preliterate cave dwellers gathered to tell stories.  These were prose until and unless attendees decided that the preformer had nailed it, in which case the piece would be memorized verbatim.  Thus, prose became poetry.  Only later were techniques developed to appeal to both memory and audiences.

     Today, slammers gather to tell stories.  These are either prose or doggerel--this being the only, albeit faint, evidence of prosody--and remain so until listeners show an interest in replication;  typically, this will be hardcopy or online text or a YouTube link of it being performed.

     For the most part, especially with readings, it is as if poetry never existed.



Monday, April 1, 2013

Paul Stevens

Paul Stevens with his wife,
cashing in on their children's
gift of a helicopter ride.



     The online poetry world has suffered a horrendous loss.  Three days ago Paul Stevens lost his long battle with liver cancer.  From his biography on TheHyperTexts we know Paul was born in Sheffield, Yorkshire but lived most of his life in New South Wales, Australia, teaching literature and history.  He was editor of three popular poetry webzines:  Shit Creek Review, The Flea and The Chimaera.  A passionate fighter for equality, Paul was a compelling advocate of progressive causes. 

     Not being inclined to travel to a continent that boasts 17 of the world's 20 deadliest snakes, I never had the pleasure of meeting Paul face-to-face.  Nevertheless, I knew him well from online critical fora such as Eratosphere and the recently rejuvenated Alsop Review Gazebo.

     When the history of online poetry is written Paul Stevens will be mentioned alongside his friend, the late Margaret Ann Griffiths, Peter John Ross, Christine Klocek-Lim, Howard Miller, John Boddie and few others.  Through his critique, especially on Gazebo, he brought to the fore both of the two greatest poems of our time.

     I grieve for his family and friends.  Most of all, I grieve for those who never knew him. 

     Paul will always be Australia to me.




And all the way home:
At last to sail free
Between southern capes
Thick with kelp and wild foam,

With wave awash, surging,
Late sun on the headland,
And shadow down valley
Past all memory.

   - from Map of Tasmania by Paul Stevens, originally published in The Road Not Taken.


Jedi Poets

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #37
    "Convenient Poetics ("ConPo") is now the dominant force in English language poetry, eclipsing even Content Regency. Advocates of Convenient Poetics, known as "ConPoets", embrace their philosophy with the pious dedication of living martyrs."



    It is no accident that prosody is a lost art, even (if not especially) among poets.  What was common knoweldge to grade schoolers a century ago when poetry ruled is not taught today, not even in the poetry modules of Creative Writing courses.  

    If you can answer these three rudimentary questions about poetry you are part of a tiny, resistant minority, surrounded by those less informed:

    1. William Blake's 1794 poem, "Tyger, Tyger", is:

a) Trochaic.
b) Iambic.
c) Other or unknown.

    2. T.S. Eliot's "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" is:

1. Free Verse.
2. Metrical.
3. Other or unknown.

    3. W. C. Williams's 1923 poem, "The Red Wheelbarrow", is:

1. Free Verse.
2. Metrical.
3. Other or unknown.




    As a Jedi Poet, you are capable of astonishing feats, including:

  1. discerning verse from free verse;


  2. discerning free verse from prose or prose poetry;


  3. predicting what poems people will enjoy;


  4. predicting what poems or lines of poetry or song that people will remember or forget;


  5. judging whether or not an author or editor has studied the elements of poetry;


  6. understanding why the popularity of poets such as Edgar Allen Poe rose only after scansion disappeared from grad school curricula;

  7. understanding that Earl Gray's 37th Law is a pun;


  8. contributing to serious critiquing forums; and,


  9. serving as mentors.


     One might think that the efforts of these authorities would be appreciated by their beneficiaries.  Not always so.  For example, a few Jedi appeared on a popular blog and politely corrected the sponsored "experts" on fundamentals.  This resulted in one maven recalling a poetry textbook that was riddled with errors.  Was there so much as a word of thanks for the Jedis' contribution?  Hardly.  Indeed, the sponsor shut down the response feature to avoid future embarrassments.