A Rhyme in Time

Just occasionally in this blog, I stick my neck out by saying what I think on the various branches of the arts. There was my article called Art, to begin with, and I followed that later with A Musical Musing. Having survived these dangerous forays into controversial areas, it really is time that I had a go at the one everyone avoids, presumably because it brings back bad memories of school. I refer to poetry, of course.

A lot of people seem to think that, if something rhymes, it must be poetry. This idea then gets expanded upon and leads to the conclusion that poetry must rhyme. It's an effective definition since it enables the one who believes it to separate poetry from prose with great ease. What a pity, then that it is completely wrong. There is a great deal of excellent poetry that does not rhyme and there is even more writing that rhymes yet is not poetry at all. Fortunately, there is a word that defines the latter group: doggerel.

So how are we to define this word "poetry"? If we are not allowed to use the rhyming theory, just how are we to decide what is prose and what is poetry? I would suggest that it is all in the effect of the writing. If a passage or a few lines affect us deeply, there is a strong possibility that we are reading poetry. And if we cannot say just why the words have affected us so strongly but only know that it is so, then we are almost certainly reading poetry.

It's all in the depth of feeling that the writing elicits in the reader. Poetry is like painting in that it reaches beyond our understanding to find and amplify responses in us that are greater than the mere meaning of the words used. It does, in fact, pluck strings in us that we did not know were there.

There is some prose that approaches this effect. There is, in fact, a form of writing called prose poetry that fits somewhere in between the two. It is as powerful as poetry yet does not have the structure and form of poetry. A very good example of this is a little book called By Grand Central Station I Sat Down And Wept by Elizabeth Smart and I recommend that you buy it and read, if you can find a copy.

And there I have mentioned it: poetry does have a structure. Like rhyme, however, this is just one of the many ways in which a poet amplifies the effect of the words he uses. Poetry is designed to be read aloud and the structure, meter, rhythm and, yes, even rhyme, unite with the meaning and sound of the words to create something that is far more than the meaning alone. In this we find a link with music for both art forms use sound to communicate emotion and spirit.

So the poet has many weapons at his disposal, in addition to those available in prose. And he might use some and not others, depending upon what is most appropriate to achieve the desired result. This is where rhyme has become a dangerous thing for a modern poet to indulge in. Rhyme is over-used in our society to the point where its effectiveness is lost. We have advertising ditties, pop songs, greetings cards and slogans, all using rhyme as a way to drive home their (usually shallow) point and we have become inured to it. The sad fact is that the use of rhyme in poetry tends to lessen the effect of a poem to the modern ear. The same is true of the more obvious meters and rhythms that we hear as a bouncy, jaunty tune that prevents us from taking the poem seriously.

So the task of the modern poet is much more difficult than it has been in the past. Many of his weapons have become blunted by use and he must now depend upon far fewer if he is to reach us. And that means he must become expert in those weapons still remaining. The fact that modern poetry can be so powerful is entirely due to the hard work and skill of its present greatest practitioners. These days it is a matter of placing just the right word in exactly the right place and the words interacting with their neighbors to produce the desired result. Notice how you can take a line from a modern poem and it will have impact even though no longer surrounded by its compatriots. But put them all together and you have something that outstrips the power of the poetry of old.

Consider these words from a modern poet describing the craft: "I know ee cummings often used shape in poetry, I have not done so. I may make things little asides to the audience, the brackets for instance, or italicize to indicate it is part of the whole but also separate. I place words at the end or beginning, I break up lines or reshape them because if the right word doesn't appear in the right spot the impact is lost."

Sadly, the same has happened to poetry as has befallen the other arts today. The apparent disappearance of the rules has led the critics into total confusion where they cannot tell good from bad, hopeless from outstanding. And we are left with the charlatans and the fools feted by the poetry establishment while the common man shakes his head and decides that, if that is poetry, then he must hate it. Once again our culture is robbed by those who consider themselves so sophisticated and refined that only they can understand.

Don't believe them for a moment. If it seems like garbage to you, it almost certainly is. But if it grabs you and drags your emotions all over the place, hey, guess what: it's probably poetry.