Mike Snider's Formal Blog at the Sonnetarium :
poems, mostly metrical, and rants and raves on poets, poetry, and the po-biz
Updated: 6/26/08; 9:08:30 PM.



AIM: poemando




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Thursday, April 1, 2004

  • AWP is all over the poetry blog world, far too thickly sown to do justice with links. Makes me sorry I won't be able to go to West Chester this year.

  • The New Sonnetarium is off-line, as I promised, so I can get to work on them and send them out. If you want copies of my New Year madness, ask.

  • I am going to get busy sending things out. Ivy Alvarez is an inspiration.

  • Gary Norris is asking good questions and clarifying what he meant by poetry going missing from the market. But Marx!

  • Aaron Haspel wrote an insightful post (me and Ron Silliman, together again!) on software development and poetry. I'd only add that poems sometimes ignore your design in ways that would be disastrous for software.

  • Chris Murray took part in a Homerathon in addition to the incredible amount of work she does daily at texfiles, pointing to good work all over the web.

  • Jilly Dybka's interviewed at Stick Poet Superhero. She gets to go to West Chester. No fair!

  • Tim Yu (here, here, and here) and Kasey Mohammad (here) are working hard on the idea of intention in writing and interpretation, in the Constitution as well as poetry.

10:07:40 PM    comment: use html tags for formatting []  trackback []

What we have here is a rondeau redouble:

Fools in Love

We didn't start with much. You had a ride;
I had a room. One night became a week,
You driving me to work to save your pride
And I so much in love I couldn't speak.

My closest friends all called my prospects bleak,
At best, and I knew they were justified,
But almost hoped you'd end my losing streak —
We didn't start with much. You had a ride.

I rode a bike. God I was terrified
Of trucks with towing mirrors, hide and seek
In traffic, and you were mostly gratified
I had a room. One night became a week,

Since you were homeless — glad to find a geek
With no addictions and a job, tongue-tied
Without a mandolin, and not too much a freak —
You driving me to work to save your pride.

Darling we should have found a place to hide,
Your kids so young and me almost antique,
But careless love just wouldn't be denied,
And I'm so much in love I still can't speak.
We didn't start with much.

It's reworked from this sonnet:

Fools in Love

We didn't start with much. You had a ride;
I had a room. One night became a week,
You driving me to work to save your pride
And I so much in love I couldn't speak.
I played my mandolin, singing the song
I sang on Lisa's porch the night we met —
"Angel from Montgomery" — and all night long
we kept my housemates up with our duet.
We were a silly pair, to think that we
Could build a life. You had two children, one
In diapers. We were broke. My daughter Lee
Was lost. Ten years younger, you should have run.
We were the portrait of improvidence —
And love has blessed us for our lack of sense.

I often take an old piece, even if I like it, and rework it completely. I 'll move from free verse to sonnet, sonnet to some other form, or even from a trad form to free verse. This one's more a proof of concept than anything: I'd never written a rondeau redouble and that first quatrain looked like it might work as a texte for one. Won't know for months whether I like it.

8:45:52 PM    comment: use html tags for formatting []  trackback []

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2008 Michael Snider.

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