pavement shimmering in the arc lamp glow
human traffic hardens as water flows
a can glides, twisting, toward the storm drain
riding a ruddy river of rain
a torrent pours, night awash in white sound
sewers fill, the city gurgles and drowns
boarding the bus requires a quay
each monsoon night seeks a revival day
bounces on a banana-laden stalk
your long leaves
twist & tear
like the Tacoma Narrows bridge
when wind whips over
every annum
foliage falls
stalk sags
yet you will rise and be reborn
lost city
buried in
time
by
jungle
someday
your metropolis
will be
crumbled
&
overgrown
but we’ve
forgotten
how to
forget
all that is known
is locked away
&
shot into space
a call
to the heavens
but forgetting
is a laudable skill
&
therapeutic, too
sniffing mouse
waggles its sniffing nose
turns & retreats
cheep-cheep
baby bird calling
no answer
steaming coffee
lazy tendrils
curl idly
overcast
Prague skies above
faux winter
The Sounds of Poetry: A Brief Guide by Robert Pinsky
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
As the title suggests, this is a book about sound as a component of poetry. Besides the characteristics of noises made in reading poetry, the book details the various characteristics that shape the overall sound of a poem–such as the duration of a syllable and whether it’s stressed or unstressed. Having said that, a major theme of Pinsky’s work is that one shouldn’t be absolutist or rigid about these characteristics (e.g. stress versus unstressed) and should instead look at the relative traits (i.e. more or less stressed.) By adopting a more flexible view of the concepts like accent (stress), rhyme, similarity of sound, one opens up limitless options for poetry.
The book consists of five chapters. The front matter includes an introduction and a brief commentary on theory. The latter points out that there are no hard rules, but by paying attention to these concepts one can produce richer and more interesting sounding poems. Pinsky reviews the most common poetic terms (e.g. iamb, trochee, spondee, etc.) but also looks at how these are varied for effect in a way that is enjoyable to all but prosody hardliners.
The chapters are: 1.) Accent and duration; 2.) Syntax and line; 3.) Technical terms and vocal realities; 4.) Like and unlike sounds; 5) Blank verse and Free verse. (fyi: Blank verse is unrhymed verse that has a regular meter (most commonly iambic pentameter. Free verse is unrhymed verse with irregular meter.)
There are relatively few poems used as examples in this book. Some readers may find this a bit tedious and would prefer being exposed to more (and more varied) examples. However, other readers will enjoy drilling down into a few poems along several dimensions. That’s a matter of personal preference, but the reader should be aware of it.
The book is less than 150 pages even with the back matter, which includes recommended readings and glossary of names and terms. It’s a quick read.
I enjoyed this book. It’s not too technical, and can be followed by a reader whether they’ve had an extensive education into poetry or not. It’s not doctrinaire about prosody, which appeals to my personal preferences. It provoked some intriguing insights, such as the flexible approach to accent as well as poetry as an art that uses the body of reader as its medium—their respiratory systems, vocal chords, and related musculature how these sounds are produced.
I’d recommend the book for poets and readers of poetry who are serious about the endeavor.
Chase me down ’round the bend
All great men seek amends
When they’re caught red-handed,
&
their clan is disbanded
They throw into dark tides
time-wrecked, busted past pride
lost to all foreign shores
like
sand-sunk litter of past wars
hawk’s spiral swoop
snatches a sack skyward
morsels spilling
crow tugs rat carcass
like a combat comrade
cursing pal’s flab
Maribu meeting
looks formal: coat and tie
civil as Congress
you’ll some night die
frost in your beard
you’ll some night die
trudging through snow
you’ll some night die
presaging numbness
you’ll some night die
smelling the smoke
of a cabin unseen
wondering where
that heat source lies
you’ll some night die
one winter night
in life’s autumn
subterranean
take a thick slab wall &
bury it deep underground
a tomb smothered by tombs
rat squeak reality check
is the only sound one knows
except… when they come
when they come
there’s the warning squeal
of the rusty hinge of a metal door
faint means it’s another cell
a melange of guilt & relief
tingles about one’s skin & viscera
but when the squeal is
like a plow furrow
rutting up one’s spine
they’ve come for you
bobbing up and down
lulling one to reverie
waves lap sans a sound
ride the wave
float the tide
you’re energy’s slave
til the day you die
