Redondilla Workshop

[Pat~]

What My Teacher Taught Me

When I was young, I walked to school
Along a winding quarter-mile;
I'd enter into first-grade class,
And at my teacher shyly smile.

Now one day as I donned my coat,
I chanced to look out window, and
I saw my teacher walking down
My street, with briefcase in his hand.

I rubbed my eyes; again I looked,
And yet this was no April-fool...
Then slowly dawned the newfound truth--
My teacher doesn't live at school!

[P.H.Delarran]

Show-offs!
:D
I'm here from work and trying to fix my mess of a poem. I should have it posted sometime later tonight.
I don't know why, I'm just having a hard time with inspiration on this one. (Maybe it's lack of a good chunk of time to concentrate)

[Magdalen]

I like this alot. I really enjoyed it, it can be happily sung to "Greensleeves, aka and I like the humor, and I like the story.

I chanced to look out window, and

Just a might tweak, here, mate!!

My street, a briefcase in his hand!

I presume to replace "with" with "a"

Perfectly excellent S3!!!!

Otherwise this is absolutely lovely, veri a ballad and definitely a rep point for double effort on this assign.

[Magdalen]

Everyone has a...I don't know, a completeness, or professionalism, or, polished quality to their work that doesn't seem to come out in mine. At least not to me.!
I don't know why you say that.!

I too think you are doing an excellent job on this workshop. It is the first one I've ever done, virtual, bricks & mortar, imaginary, or/and ever. But I do have a question or two. I will ask and you need not answer in a flurry. I will be busy constructing glowing verbs and adjective filled sentences describing my enjoyment of your Xmas ballad.

Question: I don't understand the connection between the ballad and the redondilla, please make the bridge (and lead me onto it) that connects them.

I guess I have more than a little bit of lyricist in me, because I found the addition of a melody (esp. the MP3 link) upon which to adhere my words ridiculously simple. I did take a few hours to compose it, but it is my 1st draft. I think I could improve it. The question is: Were minstrals (usually) also muscians, ie singer/songwriters or were there various combinations of musical ability and lyrical, written or poetic contributions that resulted in the so-called wandering minstral(s). Didn't they travel in packs?? Were redondillas the Poem/Song that Spaniards sang, as was the ballade to the French and the ???? to the Celts and the etc?

[Magdalen]

How they had known, I had few clues.
I hadn't told them, as a trap.
And there it was before my eyes,
The gift I'd asked from Santa's lap!

Now this could only mean one thing,
And I was happy as could be.
I knew the truth they'd tried to hide,
No longer could they fool with me.

For years I'd guessed, but had no proof,
But in Mom's closet, there it was!
The gift inside had answered all,
I knew my dad was Santa Claus!


Ok!! Now, I am singing along and I am smiling at the mischief on all sides and I am thinking of Christmas and hearing "Greensleeves" and Time is of no consequense.. Time is the hand-made Big Red Bow on "The gift I'd asked from Santa's lap!"

Thanks for going another round.

Now tell me what Assignment three is or the reindeer gets it!!!!!

[Writer???]

Hi P.H.,

If it's not coming, don't force it. Take the night and let it come together. Relax and have fun with it.

Pat,
Cute one. I love exploring the mind of a child and the things they discover that just amaze or astound them.

"Now one day as I donned my coat,
I chanced to look out window, and
I saw my teacher walking down
My street, with briefcase in his hand!"

L2 seems off to me "naturally speaking" wise. I'd like to see "the" before window, and then maybe use tow somehow as the rhyme in L4. Briefcase in tow, or something.

Otherwise, as usual, it sings, and brings back a few memories as well. Do kids even walk to school anymore?

[Writer???]

Reindeer meat good!

I have a policy of not giving in to terrorists demands. :D

Sorry Rudolph, it's been fun.

Try him with some A-1 sauce. Ummmm, tasty!:D

Exercise three - tomorrow evening. (Mwa ha ha ha)

[poetinahat]

A Misextrapulation of Revelational Information

How they had known, I had few clues.
I hadn't told them, as a trap.
And there it was before my eyes,
The gift I'd asked from Santa's lap!

Now this could only mean one thing,
And I was happy as could be.
I knew the truth they'd tried to hide,
No longer could they fool with me.

For years I'd guessed, but had no proof,
But in Mom's closet, there it was!
The gift inside had answered all,
I knew my dad was Santa Claus!

I guess this would be more for the "Stand-up Minstrel" and not the "Traveling" kind of old. :D

Dadgummit, that's a pearl, Jeff. Great revelation -- superb iambic meter -- and very well told tale. Perfectly fit to three stanzas. Not a hitch. A delightful humorous tale.

The title's, er, a mouthful, but that's neither here nor there.

You're mighty, mighty good at this.

What My Teacher Taught Me

When I was young, I walked to school
Along a winding quarter-mile;
I'd enter into first-grade class,
And at my teacher shyly smile.

Now one day as I donned my coat,
I chanced to look out window, and
I saw my teacher walking down
My street, with briefcase in his hand.

I rubbed my eyes; again I looked,
And yet this was no April-fool...
Then slowly dawned the newfound truth--
My teacher doesn't live at school!

Pat, this is another beautiful, gentle story. You took on the additional challenge of the abab scheme, and you built another three-stanza wonder!

I agree that there are syntax rough spots in S2 L2 and L4 (in L4, substituting "his" for "with" would fix it for me). But that's a small nit.

You both are masters of this craft already. I don't think I'll venture a second one on this assignment; the first attempt kind of drained me. I've mentioned to some of you that I utterly hated writing that ending, but I had to be done with the poem.

Roll on, assignment three...

[Writer???]

Everyone has a...I don't know, a completeness, or professionalism, or, polished quality to their work that doesn't seem to come out in mine. At least not to me.!
I don't know why you say that.! - Maybe it's because I am so close or use to mine and all of yours seem fresh, new, and very good.

I too think you are doing an excellent job on this workshop. It is the first one I've ever done, virtual, bricks & mortar, imaginary, or/and ever. - Thank you for saying so. I am glad you're enjoying it.


But I do have a question or two. I will ask and you need not answer in a flurry.

Question: I don't understand the connection between the ballad and the redondilla, please make the bridge (and lead me onto it) that connects them.

The question is: Were minstrals (usually) also muscians, ie singer/songwriters or were there various combinations of musical ability and lyrical, written or poetic contributions that resulted in the so-called wandering minstral(s). Didn't they travel in packs?? Were redondillas the Poem/Song that Spaniards sang, as was the ballade to the French and the ???? to the Celts and the etc? - See below, I will do the best I can to bridge the gap for you.

The bridge for me was in joining A: the description of the "ballad" from Bob's Byway - Glossary of Poetic Terms,


BALLAD
A short narrative (http://www.absolutewrite.com/forums/gl-n.html%20/%20narrative) poem with stanzas of two or four lines and usually a refrain (http://www.absolutewrite.com/forums/gl-r.html%20/%20refrain). The story of a ballad can originate from a wide range of subject matter but frequently deals with folk-lore or popular legends. The plot is the dominant element, dealing with a single crucial episode, narrated impersonally, with frequent use of repetition (http://www.absolutewrite.com/forums/gl-r.html%20/%20repetition). They are written in straight-forward verse, seldom with detail, but always with graphic simplicity and force. Most ballads are suitable for singing and, while sometimes varied in practice, are generally written in ballad meter, i.e., alternating lines of iambic (http://www.absolutewrite.com/forums/gl-i.html%20/%20iamb) tetrameter (http://www.absolutewrite.com/forums/gl-t.html%20/%20tetrameter) and iambic trimeter (http://www.absolutewrite.com/forums/gl-t.html%20/%20trimeter), with the last words of the second and fourth lines rhyming (http://www.absolutewrite.com/forums/gl-r.html%20/%20rhyme), an xbyb rhyme scheme (http://www.absolutewrite.com/forums/gl-r.html%20/%20rhyme_scheme).

Sidelight: Many old-time ballads were written and performed by minstrels (http://www.absolutewrite.com/forums/gl-m.html%20/%20minstrel) attached to noblemen's courts. Folk ballads (http://www.absolutewrite.com/forums/xballads.htm) are of unknown origin and are usually lacking in artistic finish. Meant to be sung, but often studied as poetry, the texts are independent of the melodies, which are often used for a number of different ballads. Because they are handed down by oral tradition, folk ballads are subject to variations and continual change. Other types of ballads include those transferred from rural to urban settings, and literary ballads, combining the natures of epic (http://www.absolutewrite.com/forums/gl-e.html%20/%20epic) and lyric (http://www.absolutewrite.com/forums/gl-l.html%20/%20lyric_verse) poetry, which are written by known authors, often in the style (http://www.absolutewrite.com/forums/gl-s.html%20/%20style) and form (http://www.absolutewrite.com/forums/gl-f.html%20/%20form) of the folk ballad, such as Keats' "La Belle Dame sans Merci (http://www.absolutewrite.com/forums/xkeats.htm%20/%20la_belle)" or Scott's "Jock o' Hazeldean (http://www.absolutewrite.com/forums/xscott.htm%20/%20jock)."


And B: The explanation given in the quote in the introduction to the workshop,


"...There is considerable resemblance between the early Spanish ballad and the
British. The latter affords more situations of pathos and deep tenderness,
particularly those of suffering, uncomplaining love, a favorite theme with
old English poets of every description. [10] We do not find, either, in
the ballads of the Peninsula, the wild, romantic adventures of the roving
outlaw, of the Robin Hood genus, which enter so largely into English
minstrelsy. The former [Spanish ballads] are in general of a more sustained and chivalrous character, less gloomy, and although fierce not so ferocious, nor so
decidedly tragical in their aspect, as the latter. The ballads of the Cid,
however, have many points in common with the border poetry; the same free
and cordial manner, the same love of military exploit, relieved by a
certain tone of generous gallantry, and accompanied by a strong expression
of national feeling.

The resemblance between the minstrelsy of the two countries vanishes,
however, as we approach the Moorish ballads. The Moorish wars had always
afforded abundant themes of interest for the Castilian muse; but it was
not till the fall of the capital, that the very fountains of song were
broken up, and those beautiful ballads were produced..."


It is my understanding that there were two kinds of Minstrels. That of the "court musician" to a Lord, King, Nobleman, etc. the exact nature of "employment" I am not sure of. They could have been "full-time" court musicians, or "hired" or brought in for specific occasion.

The other kind I have heard of, read about, and seen represented in film are the "wandering Minstrel" who, much like bands today, traveled from town to town, going where the interesting or important was "happening", sometimes alone, sometimes in a group of performers, i.e. actors, singers, etc. Most often probably creating their poems not only to entertain but to spread news of happenings elsewhere. The French equivalent to either of these would be, the troubadours.

It is important to note that the Redondilla, or any ballad poem of any land or time for that matter, is constructed first of all as a story for a reader. It does not have to be sung. The fact it can be sung or was often set to music is not important to its creation, merely an enjoyable side benefit. And another interesting note is that many of the Minstrel, or Troubadour, did as we have just done and wrote their poem to an existing tune. Many of which were monophonic, according to wikipedia sources.

There are references available on google from wikipedia and other places for a clearer explanation and time frame of the ballad's developement. I encourage all to check them out. Nothing I have related is written in stone. Most of the various sources I came across where so contradictory of one another regarding time of creation and popularity, influence to other lands or by other lands, rhyme scheme used, etc., that any concrete declaration is simply beyond my abilities and the scope of this workshop.

The most modern ballad construction I have read about consists of varying syllabic lines or metrical feet, usually a 4 foot, 3 foot, 4 foot, 3 foot, repetition. Is this an alteration of some later time owing it’s roots to the redondilla? Who can say? given the historical timeline, I would guess so. At least the medieval, Victorian era Minstrels would owe a familial nod to that which came before.

Very good question! I hope this bridges the gap for you at least somewhat.

[Writer???]

Also, check out "Antonio's Ballad" in Don Quixote, I have not seen it in the original Spanish, but even in English it closely follows the redondilla sylabic requirements and leads me to suspect it is either a redondilla or an altered form of one.

Nevertheless, it demonstrates the "ballad" in all its glory (as used in the context of the story) prior to the "wandering Minstrel".

EDIT - Sorry, I forgot the link:

http://etext.library.adelaide.edu.au/c/cervantes/c41d/p1chap11.html

[P.H.Delarran]

Hey guys, please don't wait for me to move on. I have two incomplete redondillas for this assignment now .. and not enough time to focus in like I want on finishing them. Sorry.
I'll just pop mine in when it's done. I know with the weekend coming that you're probably all itching to get to the last assignment.

[Writer???]

Ok, I've made you all wait long enough. Since P.H. has indicated her desire for us to carry on, let's have at the last go around.

EXERCISE THREE -

This one is two-parter. Sort of a combining of the final exercise and the review.

The first part is to write a redondilla capturing your sense of pride in your country. Wherever you're from, either now or ancestrally if you like, something that makes you proud or speaks to that country’s greatness or heritage.

The form of course is:
4 line - 8 syllable stanza
3 stanza max
rhyme scheme of your choice
Trochaic if possible but not required
With a theme of “national pride”

Here is my offering:

A Land of Foreigners Spread Their Freedom Back Home

Purple mountains standing proudly,
Bluest ridges scrape against sky;
Fertile soil so richly blessing,
Newfound home for many that cry

Freedom Now! And millions they came;
Nothing but hope carried with them,
As on these shores of dreams they stepped.
And from this land would freedom stem

To other shores when call was made,
To help a neighbor, lend a hand,
With food, and arms, and often blood,
Of sons who stem from foreign land.


The second part of the exercise is a review or wrap-up of your impressions of the redondilla. What you understand it to be, what you have gained from learning it. What you think its viability is in modern times etc.



Here is mine:

As a form, the redondilla has much to offer. More so because of the freedoms brought about through the centuries of change. Yet, in its original, there are things such as the assonant rhymes, that can't be touched in the English language.

The ballad nature of the form holds a special fondness for me, though considered by most to be old fashioned and out of place in modern poetry. To me it sparks the mind to the imaginings of more "poetic times" when everyone from genteel society to common working folk, both enjoyed and participated in sharing and spreading poetry to the world.

Though generally a traditionalist with strong feelings of honoring the original and originator, I must honestly admit I enjoy the freedoms or, changes of form brought about through the years. Perhaps, more like probably, this is due to my woefully inadequate vocabulary, and fondness for other than the a b c b rhyme scheme, which is believed to be the requirements of the original.

As I said in one of the exercises, for me, the importance of the redondilla lies in its themes and ballad nature. It is my opinion, my excuse if you will, that if one sticks to the structure, i.e. the 4 line stanza, 8 syllable line, and to the themes originally applied to it, and the ballad nature, then one has honored the redondilla.

It is my belief as I understand things now, and that's not to say that won't change as time goes on, that the trochee requirements of the original are suited to the language of its creation, meaning, Spanish. As is the, "rolling on its graceful, negligent _asonante_, [14] whose continued repetition seems by its monotonous melody to prolong the note of feeling originally struck..." something that cannot be captured in the English language.

While assonance is possible in a smattering here or there through out, the steady monotonous repetition spoken of the original, is seen as, "...the double termination, however full of grace and beauty in the Castilian, assumes, perhaps from the effect of association, rather a doggerel air in the English."

For those choosing to use form in modern poetry, I feel the redondilla offers a viable and valuable tool for expression. Its varied thematic allowance, its simplicity of construction, its acceptable, multiple rhyme schemes, and, its balladic traditions make it not only useful, but fun and interesting to explore.

While the trochaic requirements of the redondilla in modern poetry remain debatable, the thematic applications, I feel, must be restrained to that for which it was created: heroic adventure: hopeful, not tragic love: the important historical moment: the gallant and chivalrous. Not however, for trivialities of life or exploring the wonders of a pine tree, unless of course that pine tree served an important moment in history or figured prominently in the history of a town's festival for example.

And, with all due apologies to the author, this poem offered on the internet is most decidedly NOT a Redondilla:

"Cars zoom by while the trees stand still.
Birds chirp and squawk, robins and jays.
I neither hasten nor delay.
Walking to market is such a thrill."

Theme, in my opinion, is the overriding factor in choosing form. What is a Sonnet if not at least some expression of love? Its controversy, its contradiction, its betrayal, etc. What is a Mansavi if not a parable with explanation or interpretation. What is a Limerick if not funny, crude, or revealing a truth in a provocative way?

I think distinction between the mere structure of a stanza, say a quatrain, and the actual meaning and requirements of a “form” are often overlooked. This is pointed out, exceedingly so, in much of the English Haiku. So often reduced to mere syllable counts and completely ignoring the “essence” of a true Haiku. No thought is given to its requirement of nature, season, concrete elemental objects, forbiddance of personification, etc.

There are “wells” to draw from when expressing the unique or personally important, or even bizarre. Two that come to mind are the Ode, and Free Verse. To grab a form that was created, and for centuries, has stood for the expression of gallantry, chivalrousness, heroic reporting, etc., and use it to muse over the flight of a bumble bee for instance, is neither respecting the creation or creator, nor serving your craft.

Perhaps this is too simple or legalistic, but if forms are tools, then like tools in a tool box, if I want to tighten a bolt, I'm not going to reach in, take out a screwdriver to do the job. Similarly, if indeed we look at them AS forms, why would we try to use a job application to fill out our taxes, or apply for credit on our driver's license application?

For me, the redondilla will be a valuable tool in my tool box. I can enjoy the freedoms offered by centuries of adaptation and still remain true to the heart of the original.

I have enjoyed leading this workshop and have learned much from everyone's participation. I hope you all have had fun exploring the redondilla and like me, see the benefits of adding a "new", old form to your repertoire.

[Magdalen]

Poetinahat! Sorry it took me so long to post my comments on your piece. My first impression, before I began reading, whas WTF??? It is way long. Even if it doesn't have the iambic rhythm of "What Child" (and that wasn't a req. anyhow) it does move right along. I could picture a minstrel singing this tale (especially "Don't go out without me Katie" and "Just be patient little lady". So, as a ballad with 4 lines of 8 that tells a story of revelation, I think it meets up. Once again, please forgive my delay.

[Magdalen]

Writer??? Thanks for the additional (and repeat) info regarding my ?? I went back and re-read the link more thoroughly and I'm posting a few paragraphs that I found most specific to what I was wondering about.

The light trochaic structure of the
_redondilla_ [13], as the Spanish ballad measure is called, rolling
on its graceful, negligent _asonante_, [14] whose continued repetition
seems by its monotonous melody to prolong the note of feeling originally
struck, is admirably suited by its flexibility to the most varied and
opposite expression; a circumstance which has recommended it as the
ordinary measure of dramatic dialogue.

And

The intercourse with Italy, moreover, by
naturalizing new and more finished forms of versification, afforded a
scope for the nobler efforts of the poet, to which the old Castilian
measures, however well suited to the wild and artless movements of the
popular minstrelsy, were altogether inadequate.
Above para seems to support the idea that the trochaic req. was not applied too rigidly.

The present reign may be regarded as the epoch which divides the ancient from the modern school of Spanish poetry; in which the language was slowly but steadily undergoing the process of refinement, that "made the knowledge of it," to borrow the words of a contemporary critic, "pass for an elegant
accomplishment, even with the cavaliers and dames of cultivated Italy;"
[57] and which finally gave full scope to the poetic talent, that raised
the literature of the country to such brilliant heights in the sixteenth century.

The credit of this introduction belongs to Bartholomeo Torres de Naharro, . . . he composed his
"Propaladia," a work embracing a variety of lyrical and dramatic poetry,
first published at Rome, in 1517.

His "Propaladia," first published at Rome, passed through several editions
subsequently in Spain, where it was alternately prohibited, or permitted,
according to the caprice of the Holy Office. It contains, among other
things, eight comedies, written in the native _redondillas_; which
continue to be regarded as the suitable measure for the drama. They afford
the earliest example of the division into _jornadas_, or days, and of
the _intro_, or prologue, in which the author, after propitiating
the audience by suitable compliment, and witticisms not over delicate,
gives a view of the length and general scope of his play. [45]


Hey, it never hurts to reinforce some of the key ideas surrounding the history, development of this form we are workshopping.?!?!?

I bolded that one section because it made me wonder just how much singing was going on with the redondilla form.

[Magdalen]

Well I also found some really interesting stuff on The Cid poems (ballads about the Spanish hero who died in 1099) and they definitely have the redondilla form, and (tried to read the Spanish) the trochee meter. Glad I went looking to better understand the chronology!!! I should have done this earlier!!

[Magdalen]

Well, this is not my best, but it's done. The trochees are quite in line, but that doesn't really help matters. It barely fits the theme of "National Pride" (sorry, fresh out of that these days) but I probably could have got some in with one more stanza. Oh well, it is a true story, and it rhymes!!! Hey, a little tweak here and there, some online edits and well, it is done.


Grandpa sailed in nineteen thirteen,
He arrived on Liberty’s shore.
Freedom rang, soon he was working,
Sending Grandma dollars. But war

Broke out! Passage booked, they waited
To sail too! Alas, the Arch Duke’s
Death prevented travel slated.
Seven years passed, 'til one small fluke

Transpired to allow their travel.
Uncle Joe, Grandma and pa smiled,
Hugged and Spoke in foreign babel,
Cursing paperwork misfiled.

Grandpa's son, my Uncle Joe had
Practiced English on deck and rail
"I'm American now. Right, Dad?"
Were his first words, so goes the tale.

[Writer???]

Ok, let's go people. Just because it's the last exercise doesn't mean you can get off without doing it or critiquing others. (Shees, I leave you guys alone for a minute and...) :D

Magdalen, thank you for your posts and thoughts. And, thank you for getting the third exercise posted even though your heart wasn't in it. I will just say that all countries have sins they will answer for and times they wish they could forget, but that doesn't mean that they all haven't had great things to contribute that we can feel proud of.

As to your poem. I like the story and the sentiments. It flows abit rough here and there and I know you said "the trochees are quite in line", but actually...no, they're not.

Please don't take offense. I say this only in case you actually care about them being correct and struggled with them. As we have stated before, trochee requirements here in the workshop are for learning purposes only and only if one is able or wants to.

The words "nineteen" and "thirteen" are "spondee" in meter, in other words, both syllables are stressed.

"But war," to me and probably me alone, are both stressed here. "But" because of the force it carries in changing what came before. And, "war" simply for it's importance to the poem and the "reason" for the change.

He arrived on Liberty’s shore. - "Lib-er-ty" is actually a Dactyl word, one stressed-two unstressed, Which would make "He arrived on Liber...-trochaic,
and, "ty's shore.-iambic

Or, it could be seen as:

-erty's shore -which would be anapestic, as in "on the WAY - (taken from, http://www.noggs.dsl.pipex.com/vf/feet.htm )


To sail too! Alas, the Arch Duke’s - The stresses in the first half don't feel right to me. Technically, all these are unstressed words so you can I suppose do what you wish with them, but it just seems to me that "sail" would be the stressed word here.

And blah blah blah. I'm sure I've offened or bored you so I'll shut up now with - I liked the story of the poem, all else said is only to help you see what I see.

But as always, keep in mind concerning advice you get from me:
Oh what crumbling web we weave
When attempting to recieve
That which God did not intend
for minds of weak and feeble men
And when relayed is not concrete
But at it's best is incomplete.

Or,

"Those who can DO. Those who can't...
Tell others how to. :D

Now, come on the rest of you.

[Magdalen]

Yep, and yep. I didn't look up nineteen or well, any of em. I was just going by ear. And Thank you for pointing out my errors.I'm not offended. I did want to make it really stress/un all the way, but I didn't. No excuses.

I am pissed at myself for not getting it right tho'. So look for some future offering of mine at Critique to show up with some orderly trochees. So. I do have a few comments about what I learned, but I will wait to see if some more crits or posts show up. Thanks again. I did enjoy being in a workshop and I look forward to another one, soon.

Damn Spondees!!

[Magdalen]

And thanks for not calling me on the excess stanza.

[Writer???]

And thanks for not calling me on the excess stanza.

Or the 7 syllables in S3, L4. "Who luvs ya baby?" :D

[poetinahat]

I'm on the job, Teach, but I'm just running late. I'll be there!

[Writer???]

I'm on the job, Teach, but I'm just running late. I'll be there!

That's cool. Just want to make sure we haven't lost everyone to other interests just yet.

[Pat~]

And I'm very late...sorry, Teach!

I'll see what I can come up with for exercise 3. I don't want to read the other poems till I write my own; otherwise I might get stuck on their superior phrases :D . After I post I'll crit the other offerings.

[P.H.Delarran]

My apologies again for bailing out on this. I'm in a very long work stretch and have little brain power left for writing. I'm still working on these excercises, but honestly I doubt I'll have anything finished before Sunday.
You've put on a great Workshop, Writer??, and all the participants have added nicely as well. Thanks to all :)

[Pat~]

Okay, here's my assignment. I think meter went out the window, but, oh well. It's done. :)

Part I.

THE LUCK OF THE IRISH

It's just the luck of the Irish
That daughter has bright copper hair,
That I have green eyes and freckles,
And son has a stomach valve rare.*

Our genealogical tree,
If one with care would examine,
Includes those who wanted to flee
The Irish potato famine.

St. Patrick's Day we all wear green
To celebrate ancestry there,
Though homeland is now the U.S.,
A land to which none can compare.

*Travis was born with pyloric stenosis, a common hereditary blip of firstborn males of Irish descent. He had emergency surgery at 4 wks. of age.


Part II.

THE REDONDILLA

I think that the redondilla
Is poetic form quite tricky;
I've found I'd rather write iambs
Than struggle with proper trochee.

I love that it tells a story,
For who doesn't like a good tale?
I'll practice it, therefore, because
It's demise I'd surely bewail.

Don't want to forget how to write
Fine poems in every form,
(Though scoffers might say it's hogwash,
Since blank verse is usually the norm.)

:D

[Magdalen]

Pat!! Good Job!! Amazing droll wit (the bit about the valve tied into "Irish Luck") that I admire and will never probably achieve. I say this because I married into a double Irish/Canadian family and my husband's uncle has entertained us with many a tall tale and lengthy story/jokes over the years. There are few things more charming (to me) than a glib Irishman, except maybe a rhyming colleen! Thanks for getting this in!!

[Magdalen]

I felt the need to fix my bad trochees, so here's my redo. No need to crit both. Especially if you've spent time on the other already.

Grandpa sailed from Europe hoping,
Grandma soon would follow him here.
Freedom’s promise would then be theirs.
War in Europe Interloping,

Caused delay. Her Passage booked, she
Waited years to sail! When travel
Fin’lly was permitted, cables
Flew across the miles. The journey

Long, her suf’ring soon requited,
Grandma joined her husband; she brought
Him his son, their Freedom long sought,
They all gave thanks, reunited.

[Pat~]

I felt the need to fix my bad trochees, so here's my redo. No need to crit both. Especially if you've spent time on the other already.

Grandpa sailed from Europe hoping,
Grandma soon would follow him here.
Freedom’s promise would then be theirs.
War in Europe Interloping,

Caused delay. Her Passage booked, she
Waited years to sail! When travel
Fin’lly was permitted, cables
Flew across the miles. The journey

Long, her suf’ring soon requited,
Grandma joined her husband; she brought
Him his son, their Freedom long sought,
They all gave thanks, reunited.

Well, good! I'll critique your rewrite. :) Great balladic quality; tells the story very well. Your attempt to write it in pure trochaic form is heroic.

When I read it, I found that some of the emphases fell in different places than your scan showed, so I've done my scan above. I'm not one to comment on scansion and meter, though, as my poem was so lacking in it, LOL! And despite the trochaic break down at the end, I really liked the way the poem ended.

The rhyme scheme seemed a bit variable to me; abca - abb(?)a - abba. I think the abba scheme is definitely a challenge for a 2-stanza poem, so you did very well.

Nice work, and you get the faithful pupil award!!

(apple polisher :D )

[Pat~]

A Land of Foreigners Spread Their Freedom Back Home

Purple mountains standing proudly,
Bluest ridges scrape against sky;
Fertile soil so richly blessing,
Newfound home for many that cry

Freedom Now! And millions they came;
Nothing but hope carried with them,
As on these shores of dreams they stepped.
And from this land would freedom stem

To other shores when call was made,
To help a neighbor, lend a hand,
With food, and arms, and often blood,
Of sons who stem from foreign land.

Nice, regular abcb rhyme scheme, Writer??. I liked the line 'nothing but hope carried with them.' Had a little trouble with the last line of that stanza, though--was it to continue thought into the 3rd stanza? 'Freedom stem' was hard to figure; maybe use a different word, as stem is also used in the last stanza. OR maybe rather replace 'stem' in the last stanza with a different word?

The story is definitely heroic and balladic. So you accomplished the main goal of the redondilla there. All in all, nicely done, and certainly patriotic in theme. Good job, Teach!! :D

[Writer???]

Pat - Thanks for posting your work, and how wonderful of you to do your summary in a poem.

Your exercise poem is well done! Not only is it binational in sentiment, but personal to boot! I wonder if "Though" could be dropped since you use "is now" which kind of covers the "though" and then you could use America, instead of "U.S."

And a minor grammar nit (and I should NEVER comment on spelling) but, it's an "a" and not "o" in genealogical.

I really like that the two of you, Pat and Magdalen, have had a personal story to tell. I don't have that. I have no idea what my ancestry is, or when they came here. Good job to both of you. And thanks for your participation!

Pat - as to my poem. Yes stem is meant to continue thought into the next stanza. It was also meant to be a "tie" to the second "stem" and serve as a reminder that those who fought and died to bring freedom, protect freedom, return freedom; are the very sons that "stem" from those lands in the first place.

But, I wanted it to be subtle, not preachy.

It obviously didn't work but it was just a sly way of saying hey, the blood that's been spilled on foreign soil has been Euro/American, German/American, Italian/American, Hungarian/American, Korean/American, etc. and they did it not only because "America" said go to war, but because they were eager to help their homeland.

The gist of the poem is:
America offered freedom and the foreigners came.
Freedom "stemmed" from America to other lands,
By the efforts and blood of sons who "stemmed" from other lands to America.

[Pat~]

Writer???, thanks for explaining the idea behind "stem." I can see why you repeated it now.

And I've fixed the spelling of genealogical! :)

[poetinahat]

Okay, Part 2 first:

I'm finding the redondilla form to be agonising. It feels like exercise: if it hurts this much, it had better be good for me! I'm finding it a struggle to tell a story in a small space and within the form.

Just finding the inspiration is another battle. The topics we're using aren't the sort of thing I'd typically write about. But it's all part of learning and testing oneself, and I'm glad for the aches and pains.

I'm enjoying the challenge, truly. But I'm very seriously learning something about what sort of poetic chops I have.

I'll have Part 1 up in a few minutes... although, based on my experience with the past two assignments, a redondilla minute translates to half an hour.

[poetinahat]

Gather 'round and I'll regale ya
Long as you can stand to hear it
All about the true-blue spirit
Prized and nurtured in Australia

Independent and laconic
Like the gumtrees gnarled and stoic
Folks here needn't be heroic
Just bring beer and wit ironic

Long on jokes and short on speeches
From Cape York to Roaring Forties
Everybody's wearing boardies
'cos it's time to hit the beaches

[Pat~]

Rob, they're only 'hard' because you write such darn good poetry!!

Your poem is terrific. It fits the requirements of the assignment perfectly--your meter and rhyme scheme are impeccable, as usual. It has a 'gather round' sense of tale to it, and gives one a true flavor of Oz. (In fact, it makes me want to visit.) I loved this:

"Independent and laconic
Like the gumtrees gnarled and stoic,"

I can't find any nits to pick--well done!

[poetinahat]

And now I respond to my redoubtable colleagues:


A Land of Foreigners Spread Their Freedom Back Home

Purple mountains standing proudly,
Bluest ridges scrape against sky;
Fertile soil so richly blessing,
Newfound home for many that cry

Freedom Now! And millions they came;
Nothing but hope carried with them,
As on these shores of dreams they stepped.
And from this land would freedom stem

To other shores when call was made,
To help a neighbor, lend a hand,
With food, and arms, and often blood,
Of sons who stem from foreign land.

Jeff, I'm going to be candid -- I hope you'll bear with me. I like this one, but the middle stanza needs work.

This is a stirring poem. I like the final stanza best -- it's a home run. (I'm not sure about the word 'stem' in the last stanza; it's a verb I'd expect to find connected with something inanimate - an effect stems from a cause, for example.)

The meter, while not consistent, is lilting, which suits a ballad well. Being a math-head, I get tempted to demand exact meter. Sometimes the off-lines work just as well, or even better, e.g. S1 L2 -- and I like the word "bluest" too. The fact that S1 L2 and L4 match "irregular" meter helps them both.

I like, too, the enjambment that spans S1 and S2 -- it gives "Freedom Now!" a real punch. (I like the one between S2 and S3 as well.)

After that, the second stanza kind of loses me, though; the syntax of S2 L3 and L4 seems particularly convoluted. To my mind, it might have worked better if you'd allowed yourself continued license to be free with meter.

Back to that third stanza. You set things up sweetly in the first three lines; they just sit squarely in place. Then, "Of sons who stem from foreign land" -- nailed it. That's a heart-tugger, that line.

It begins and ends well; I felt that, in the middle, it became too much like work to fit the scheme. Fix that middle stanza, and this is a pearl.

Grandpa sailed in nineteen thirteen,
He arrived on Liberty’s shore.
Freedom rang, soon he was working,
Sending Grandma dollars. But war

Broke out! Passage booked, they waited
To sail too! Alas, the Arch Duke’s
Death prevented travel slated.
Seven years passed, 'til one small fluke

Transpired to allow their travel.
Uncle Joe, Grandma and pa smiled,
Hugged and Spoke in foreign babel,
Cursing paperwork misfiled.

Grandpa's son, my Uncle Joe had
Practiced English on deck and rail
"I'm American now. Right, Dad?"
Were his first words, so goes the tale.
A story -- it deserves an extra stanza, Mag! As with Jeff's poem, yours uses cross-stanza enjambment (what's the real term, I wonder?) to great effect. There's a freedom of meter that befits a saga too. I like 'foreign babel' -- good word and most appropriate for the melting-pot image we associate with America.

S2L3 reads a bit heavily to me - it does feel wedged into the rhyme scheme, but it only shows how well you've managed to fit the rest of the poem into a tight scheme.

I very much like how you allowed room to tie off the poem at the end. The poignant moment, followed by the storyteller's sign-off, would come off well in a live reading (or singing).

I don't know if a story could get much more American than this one. Well done!


THE LUCK OF THE IRISH

It's just the luck of the Irish
That daughter has bright copper hair,
That I have green eyes and freckles,
And son has a stomach valve rare.*

Our genealogical tree,
If one with care would examine,
Includes those who wanted to flee
The Irish potato famine.

St. Patrick's Day we all wear green
To celebrate ancestry there,
Though homeland is now the U.S.,
A land to which none can compare.

*Travis was born with pyloric stenosis, a common hereditary blip of firstborn males of Irish descent. He had emergency surgery at 4 wks. of age.

Pat, this is a wonderful poem. How you manage to weave "genealogical" and "Irish potato famine" into such a rigid rhyme and metrical scheme is dumbfounding.

Your opening line strikes a perfect note for the subject -- and "bright copper hair", well, what more could one wish for?

The standout stanza (bleh!), for me, is the second. S2 L2 is dexterous and musical, in a way that recalls, oh, Kipling. The reverse syntax there sounds good to me.

If I had to find a fault (and don't you know, I do), it'd be with the ending -- the last sentence works fine, but it brings in a new idea: why can no other land compare? The poem ends, so I'll never find out!

All in all, though, your poem sang itself to me; I found myself almost singing it along. It's splendid, Pat!


THE REDONDILLA

I think that the redondilla
Is poetic form quite tricky;
I've found I'd rather write iambs
Than struggle with proper trochee.

I love that it tells a story,
For who doesn't like a good tale?
I'll practice it, therefore, because
It's demise I'd surely bewail.

Don't want to forget how to write
Fine poems in every form,
(Though scoffers might say it's hogwash,
Since blank verse is usually the norm.)

:D
What an ingenious response to the assignment.

Thank you -- THANK you for mentioning how much easier iambic meter seems. Double extra credit points for off-rhyming 'tricky' and 'trochee'!

Another tip of the hat to your ending. Save the forms!

[Pat~]

Whew, Poet! Fine reviews!

Now, shouldn't you be in bed?? :D

[poetinahat]

Yes, I should - in a (redondilla) minute!

Thanks, Pat!

[Pat~]

(Don't mind me, I'm just bossy...)

[Writer???]

Okay, Part 2 first:

I'm finding the redondilla form to be agonising. It feels like exercise: if it hurts this much, it had better be good for me! - Have no fear my friend, it is good for you. I feel it is good for all of us to stretch and force ourselves from time to time. And you have met the challenge so well!

I'm finding it a struggle to tell a story in a small space and within the form. - Yes, I would agree. I am never sure if it is my short comings or form restriction (and I don't say that to sound humble) but I found the redondilla difficulty for me, lay in constructing "normal" sounding sentences. I always hit a wall of syllable restriction or something, which led to the convoluted syntax you mention.

Just finding the inspiration is another battle. The topics we're using aren't the sort of thing I'd typically write about. But it's all part of learning and testing oneself, and I'm glad for the aches and pains. - I appreciate your suffering. As I said before I think the theme is the heart of the form. Perhaps this is what keeps forms in general in an antiquated or archaic light for people. As someone said recently, sometimes it's hard to rhyme with a serious topic, or we feel like ou, uninspired to write about heros or national pride, or whatever might be commonly associated with a particular form, like the Sonnet, or the Redondilla.

I'm enjoying the challenge, truly. But I'm very seriously learning something about what sort of poetic chops I have. - So are we. And what we're learning is that you have some of the finest chops I've seen! No bullshit.

I'll have Part 1 up in a few minutes... although, based on my experience with the past two assignments, a redondilla minute translates to half an hour.

Truly, your efforts have been remarkable in my opinion. I appreciate your participation especially in light of your time constraints and the problems this form presented. Thanks Rob.

[Writer???]

Gather 'round and I'll regale ya
Long as you can stand to hear it
All about the true-blue spirit
Prized and nurtured in Australia

Independent and laconic
Like the gumtrees gnarled and stoic
Folks here needn't be heroic
Just bring beer and wit ironic

Long on jokes and short on speeches
From Cape York to Roaring Forties
Everybody's wearing boardies
'cos it's time to hit the beaches

Another good one of course. It has the feeling and passion expressing love of country.

It rings true and not overblown and makes me feel what I've always thought Australia to be, fun, inviting, laid back.

The strength, independence, and stoic nature you speak of has been present in almost everything I've seen or read about Australia (which unfortunately is my only experience).

I really enjoyed this. It has a ralleying spirit to it.

For having struggled so much with these exercises, you certainly have hit home runs with each swing. I have no nits to pick.

[Writer???]

Jeff, I'm going to be candid -- I hope you'll bear with me. I like this one, but the middle stanza needs work. - Of course I bear with you, and value your input. I very much appreciate your candor.

This is a stirring poem. I like the final stanza best -- it's a home run. (I'm not sure about the word 'stem' in the last stanza; it's a verb I'd expect to find connected with something inanimate - an effect stems from a cause, for example.) - I did struggle with stem. I thought and thought about "stem, came, come, flowed, from" I settled for stem but I do see the problems with it now. See re-write below.

The meter, while not consistent, is lilting, which suits a ballad well. Being a math-head, I get tempted to demand exact meter. Sometimes the off-lines work just as well, or even better, e.g. S1 L2 -- and I like the word "bluest" too. The fact that S1 L2 and L4 match "irregular" meter helps them both. - S1 L2 was, Bluest ridges scraping skyward which fit the rhythm but I couldn't find a rhyme to fit the sentiment of L4s enjambment if you know what I mean.

I like, too, the enjambment that spans S1 and S2 -- it gives "Freedom Now!" a real punch. (I like the one between S2 and S3 as well.)

After that, the second stanza kind of loses me, though; the syntax of S2 L3 and L4 seems particularly convoluted. To my mind, it might have worked better if you'd allowed yourself continued license to be free with meter. - Yeah, my own problems with the redondilla as mentioned in an earlier post. See re-write, maybe it's better. I don't know.

Back to that third stanza. You set things up sweetly in the first three lines; they just sit squarely in place. Then, "Of sons who stem from foreign land" -- nailed it. That's a heart-tugger, that line.

It begins and ends well; I felt that, in the middle, it became too much like work to fit the scheme. Fix that middle stanza, and this is a pearl. - Thanks Rob, for the kind comments and the expert critique. A lesson to us all. Great job!

Re-write of S2:

Freedom Now! And millions they came;
Nothing but hope carried with some,
And these shores on which they stepped
Bore the stem of freedom to come

To other shores when call was made,
To help a neighbor, lend a hand,
With food, and arms, and often blood,
Of sons who stem from foreign land.

(I tried to keep the "stem" in S2 for the tie to S3, but it could just as easily be "seed" I suppose)

[Writer???]

I am working on a final informational piece for the workshop. It is specific to the trochee and not the redondilla.

It's rather long and involved but it will I hope be benefitial to anyone wanting to see the trochee in excellent, accepted form, used by an established expert.

I will post it as soon as I can finish with it. If anyone has any questions or would like to post further efforts, or make any comments or discussions, please feel free.

[poetinahat]

Re-write of S2:

Freedom Now! And millions they came;
Nothing but hope carried with some,
And these shores on which they stepped
Bore the stem of freedom to come

To other shores when call was made,
To help a neighbor, lend a hand,
With food, and arms, and often blood,
Of sons who stem from foreign land.

(I tried to keep the "stem" in S2 for the tie to S3, but it could just as easily be "seed" I suppose)
I like this rewrite. I think 'seed' sounds good, especially with the 'stem' reference following.

Bravo to you for stepping up with a rewrite!

[poetinahat]

Jeff, you are, as always, magnanimous in your comments. Thank you.

Trochees are seemingly more difficult to rhyme than iambs - at least, that's my experience in this workshop.

At least that's the case in English.

It occurs to me that some of the difficulty is language-related: the redondilla might well be better suited to Spanish, or any similar language where verbs have mostly similar conjugational endings. That would create a lot more opportunities for rhyming or assonance. I know you raised this point earlier, and the more I struggle with the redondilla, the more I wonder about this notion.

[Magdalen]

Purple mountains standing proudly,
Bluest ridges scrape against sky;
Fertile soil so richly blessing,
Newfound home for many that cry

Freedom Now! And millions they came;
Nothing but hope carried with some,
And these shores on which they stepped
Bore the stem of freedom to come

To other shores when call was made,
To help a neighbor, lend a hand,
With food, and arms, and often blood,
Of sons who stem from foreign land.


Damn, I lost the first half of what I'd just written. Ok, I liked the "purple mtns" and Bluest ridges scraping because the former reminded me of the line in "My Country Tis of Thee" and the latter brought to mind skyscapers. I like the flow of S1 into S2. When I get to the word cry at the end of S1, I don't accent it because I am still going onto the next stanza (for meaning) and I accent the "Free" in freedom, so I don't think I would accent "cry". ( Or for that matter, several other single syllable words that carry over to the next line in S2) I think that is one of the strenths of enjambment across stanzas. As far as the ballad structure goes, I'm not sure that each line always has to end at its end. I mean, I don't think that hearing a "buried" rhyme is less effective.

S2L3 seems like it could be better stated. I did read the other crits and I also have a little wonder/wander about the first use of "stem" and I think "seed" would be an excellent switch out. S3L1 seems a little indirect, since i read your exp. I did get it either way, but if you decide to polish, maybe look at that line. Overall i thought it sounded quite patriotic and moved along nicely and I liked it.

[Magdalen]

Gather 'round and I'll regale ya
Long as you can stand to hear it
All about the true-blue spirit
Prized and nurtured in Australia

Independent and laconic
Like the gumtrees gnarled and stoic
Folks here needn't be heroic
Just bring beer and wit ironic

Long on jokes and short on speeches
From Cape York to Roaring Forties
Everybody's wearing boardies
'cos it's time to hit the beaches


This was fun to read, moved right along, I didn't scan it and I like it. I dream of making it to Aussieland (Oz) someday and WHEN I DO, I will be singing this on the plane. I liked "regale ya" and "Austraila" On the re-reads I was surprised you didn't use "Foster's" instead of beer, but I suppose that is because I think of that as "your" beer. Like we'd say "Bring a Bud" in US. But that is certainly not a nit or a pick in any way. Where are the "Roaring Forties"? I think it is cool that your word choice reflects a very casual attitude, (beer, wit, boardies, beaches) where the US patriotic words as all cumbersome, Declaration, Liberty, Waving grains and Flags and Battles fought, etc. So, Very Cool. Hope you still drinking beer and hitting the beaches by the time I get there!!!

To review: Balladic nature = excellent, modern guitar on the beach style
Length = well said in 3 stanzas
Syll & meter = excellent
The only thing I would've like to see was a mention of those cute little Koala Bears or 'Roos, but maybe that is stale hash to you guys?!?!?

Thanks for getting this up.

OH! And I'd also like to comment on your use of two syllable words for the end words of many of your lines. I think that is a significant aspect of meeting the trochee req. Especially if you want to carry the rhythm (even straddling), the multi-syllables seem to aid that. I've PMd Pat and Writer?? regarding yet another redondilla that I'm going to post. I was determined to write one with perfect trochs (despite my initial casual, nay, distainful, attitude at the beginning of this WS). So I'm going to put it up and I don't expect you guys to crit it over because you've already given me my time on the earlier efforts. But you are all Free to make your own choices, of course.

[Magdalen]

For a Poor Boy Hero

Orphaned early, hunger-hardened,
Education came from digging
Coal in mines, as black a garden
Found in Hades. Wooden rigging

Beams and trusses taught him numbers,
Letters came still later, after
Wan’dring lost, he unencumbered
Ciphers on the exit rafter.

Dusty coins his meager wages
Traded for a pallet, sodden.
Supper filched in furtive stages,
Porcine slops already trodden.

I do think the language sounds a little stilted. Not too many conjuctions or articles to lead into the meaning. And "he" is never identified, really. But, as an exercise in meter and as an attempt to combine the balladic nature (heroic not patriotic theme) of the ancient redondilla, I am glad I stubbornly pursued it. One other observation on the nature of Strictly Metered Poetry: I think have a syllable count and accent requirement makes the polishing of a completed piece helpfully specific. Instead of having just a meaning/word to change, the # of sylls and stress or unstress of it narrows and in a way, guides, a poet's choices. IMHO.

Will compose my final thoughts on the form and the benefits of this WS offline and post tomorrow, early. I really appreciate the hard work Writer?? did to pull this off and I ejoyed getting to know each of you better than I did before I read these 300+ comments

[Magdalen]

Oh, "unencumbered Ciphers on the exit rafter" is a recent change. I'm not positive that I am conveying a clear meaning of " he figured out how to read by de-ciphering the letters E X I T in the mine".

[poetinahat]

Thank you, Mag, for your comments. I'm glad you enjoyed it!

Just a couple of answers:

- Foster's is a major brewery here, but I have, in fourteen years, never seen anyone here drinking Foster's. In my part of the country, it's VB (Victoria Bitter); up north, it's XXXX (pronounced "four x"). I'm not sure what it is out west (Swan, maybe).

- The Roaring Forties are the wild winds that sweep along south of Australia, making seafaring treacherous. The Cape York peninsula is on the Top End, up north.

- I would love to have fit more creatures in, but I was determined this time to stay within three stanzas. And gum trees just don't get enough credit for their beauty, IMO.

- I plan to be hitting the beaches here for another sixty-odd years. Let me know when you're on the way, and I'll set up a proper welcome! (That goes for all of you redondillistas, natch!)

[poetinahat]

For a Poor Boy Hero

Orphaned early, hunger-hardened,
Education came from digging
Coal in mines, as black a garden
Found in Hades. Wooden rigging

Beams and trusses taught him numbers,
Letters came still later, after
Wan’dring lost, he unencumbered
Ciphers on the exit rafter.

Dusty coins his meager wages
Traded for a pallet, sodden.
Supper filched in furtive stages,
Porcine slops already trodden.


Well, let me just say that I'm in love with this one as a poem. It's vivid in an earthy Dickensian way. Brilliant topic, brilliantly executed, Mag. I'm glad you had a go at strict trochaic meter, because you've turned out a beauty. You might not like my saying so, but it suits you. (Not to say you should write in strict meter all the time, but if you want to, you can do it very, very well.)

Nice one -- no, more than that. Marvelous, my friend.

[Writer???]

Magdalen - ditto what Rob said!!

Kudos and more kudos to you and your determination. Homerun with this one.

If I struggle to find something to critique, it would be to change the "exit" line to make the word exit the focus, and not the rafter.

unencumbered
Ciphers "exit" on the rafter.

Thank you for your commitment and effort. And thanks for the kind comments as well.

[Writer???]

OK, as promised, something on the trochee that I hope you find as helpful and interesting as I did.

Below is a portion of an article from Edgar Alan Poe, explaining the creation of the “Raven”. I have taken his instruction and explanation and scanned the poem. If you take time to really go through this, you will find how a Master used the trochee, which should be good enough for us to learn and go by in our own use.

There are interesting things to see in the way words are stressed or not stressed to fit the meter. Or how pronunciation is actually decipherable in the scansion. For instance “radiant” in order to fit the meter, must be “scanned” as rad-yant, rather than rad-i-ant. There are other three syllable words like this, as well as the use of the “-” (a caesura) in place of an unstressed syllable.

There are excellent examples of “Acatalectic” and “Catalectic” lines of meter. Poe is very helpful in his description and in the structure of the poem because he sticks with it and repeats it, stanza after stanza.

Acatalectic - line that is completely metrical in feet.
Catalectic - line that is shortened by the last syllable of the final foot.
(from “Bob’s Byway” website of terminology)

I was careful to be accurate in the division and bolding, but this was very tedious and I do not claim it to be beyond mistake. The words that are multi-syllabic and fit in two feet are separated by the “|” lines and words like “nevermore” actually appear as- | Never | more | sometimes, and “methought“ as- me | thought, the |.

Here is a link to the poem un-scanned, should you have any problems distinguishing the actual words, from the scanned separation.

http://www.poeticbyway.com/xpoe.htm#raven

And here is a link to the article should you wish to read it all:

http://www.poeticbyway.com/philo.htm

Enjoy!


THE PHILOSOPHY OF COMPOSITION
by Edgar Allan Poe
"Of course, I pretend to no originality in either the rhythm or metre of the "Raven. " The former is trochaic--the latter is octametre acatalectic, alternating with heptametre catalectic repeated in the refrain of the fifth verse, and terminating with tetrametre catalectic. Less pedantically--the feet employed throughout (trochees) consist of a long syllable followed by a short: the first line of the stanza consists of eight of these feet--the second of seven and a half (in effect two-thirds)--the third of eight--the fourth of seven and a half--the fifth the same--the sixth three and a half. Now, each of these lines, taken individually, has been employed before, and what originality the "Raven" has, is in their combination into stanza; nothing even remotely approaching this combination has ever been attempted. The effect of this originality of combination is aided by other unusual, and some altogether novel effects, arising from an extension of the application of the principles of rhyme and alliteration." - Edgar Allan Poe, on the creation of: "THE RAVEN"



THE RAVEN
NOTE: That "CUR - i - ous" and "VOL - ume" make a true trochaic line impossible unless you pronounce it cur-yous.

Also note: that one of the words “a” or “and” would appear to be superfluous to fit the meter. Unless “many a” is pronounced, man-ya. Line 2 is a “catalectic” line by Poe’s own words, therefore it must end with a stressed, half-foot. Which makes this line scan as shown. That, or you’ve got to do something really weird from “curious” onward.

| Once up | on a | midnight | dreary, | while I | pondered, | weak and | weary, | 8 feet
| Over | many | [a] | quaint and | curious | volume | of for | gotten | lore -- | 7 1/2 feet
| While I | nodded, | nearly | napping, | sudden | ly there | came a | tapping, | 8 feet
| As of | some one | gently | rapping, | rapping | at my | chamber | door. | 7 1/2 feet
| "Tis some | visi | tor," I | muttered, | "tapping | at my | chamber | door -- | 7 1/2 feet
| Only | this and | nothing | more." | 3 1/2 feet

| Ah, dis | tinctly | I re | member, | it was | in the | bleak De | cember;
| And each | separate | dying | ember | wrought its | ghost up | on the | floor.
| Eager | ly I | wished the | morrow; -- | vainly | I had | sought to | borrow |
| From my | books sur | cease of | sorrow -- | sorrow | for the | lost Le | nore -- |
| For the | rare and | radiant | maiden | whom the | angels | name Le | nore -- |
| Nameless | here for | ever | more. |

| And the | silken, | sad, un | certain | rustling | of each | purple | curtain |
| Thrilled me -- | filled me | with fan| tastic | terrors | never | felt be | fore; |
| So that | now, to | still the | beating | of my | heart, I | stood re | peating: |
| "'Tis some | visi| tor en| treating | entrance | at my | chamber | door -- |
| Some late | visi | tor en | treating | entrance | at my | chamber | door; |
| This it | is and | nothing | more." |

| Present | ly my | soul grew | stronger; | hesi | tating | then no | longer, |
| "Sir," said | I, "or | Madam, | truly | your for | giveness | I im | plore; |
| But the | fact is | I was | napping, | and so | gently | you came | rapping, |
| And so | faintly | you came | tapping, | tapping | at my | chamber | door, |
| That I | scarce was | sure I | heard you" -- | here I | opened | wide the | door;-- |
| Darkness | there and | nothing | more. |

| Deep in | to that | darkness | peering, | long I | stood there | wondering, | fearing, |
| Doubting, | dreaming | dreams no | mortal | ever | dared to | dream be | fore; |
| But the | silence | was un | broken, | and the | stillness | gave no | token, |
| And the | only | word there | spoken | was the | whispered | word, "Le | nore!" |
| This I | whispered, | and an | echo | murmured | back the | word, "Le | nore!" |
| Merely | this and | nothing | more. |

| Back in | to the | chamber | turning, | all my | soul with | in me | burning, |
| Soon a | gain I | heard a | tapping | something | louder | than be | fore. |
| "Surely," | said I, | "surely | that is | something | at my | window | lattice; |
| Let me | see, then, | what there | at is, | and this | myster | y ex | plore -- |
| Let my | heart be | still a | moment, | and this | myster | y ex | plore; -- |
| 'Tis the | wind and | nothing | more." |

| Open | here I | flung the | shutter, | when, with | many | [a] | flirt and | flutter, |
| In there | stepped a | stately | Raven | of the | saintly | days of | yore. |
| Not the | least ob | eisance | made he; | not a | minute | stopped or | stayed he, |
| But, with | mien of | lord or | lady, | perched a | bove my | chamber | door -- |
| Perched up | on a | bust of | Pallas | just a | bove my | chamber | door -- |
| Perched, and | sat, and | nothing | more. |

| Then this | ebony |bird be | guiling | my sad | fancy | into | smiling, |
| By the | grave and | stern de | corum | of the | counten | ance it | wore, |
| "Though thy | crest be |shorn and | shaven, | thou," I | said, "art | sure no | craven, |
| Ghastly | grim and | ancient | Raven | wandering | from the | nightly | shore -- |
| Tell me | what thy | lordly | name is | on the | Night's Plu | tonian | shore?" |
| Quoth the | Raven, | "Never | more." |

| Much I | marvelled | this un | gainly | fowl to | hear dis | course so | plainly, |
| Though its | answer | little | meaning -- | little | relev | ancy bore;
| For we | cannot | help ag | reeing | that no | living | human | being |
| Ever | yet was | blessed with | seeing | bird a | bove his | chamber | door -- |
| Bird or | beast up | on the | sculptured | bust a | bove his | chamber | door, |
| With such | name as | "Never | more." |

| But the |Raven, | sitting | lonely | on the | placid | bust, spoke | only |
| That one | word, as | if his | soul in | that one | word he | did out | pour. |
| Nothing | farther | then he | uttered; | not a | feather | then he | fluttered -- |
| Till I | scarcely | more than | muttered: | "Other | friends have | flown be | fore -- |
| On the | morrow | he will | leave me, | as my | Hopes have | flown be | fore." |
| Then the | bird said, | "Never | more." |

| Startled | at the | stillness | broken | by re | ply so | aptly | spoken, |
| "Doubtless," | said I, | "what it | utters | is its | only | stock and | store, |
| Caught from | some un | happy | master | whom un |merci | ful Di | saster |
| Followed | fast and followed | faster | till his | songs one | burden bore -- |
| Till the | dirges | of his | Hope that | melan | choly | burden | bore |
|Of 'Ne | ver -- | never | more.'" (Note how the caesura after "'Never" fulfills the "unstressed" beat of the trochee. You don't always have to find and use a syllable!)

| But the | Raven | still be | guiling | all my | sad soul | into |smiling, |
| Straight I | wheeled a | cushioned | seat in | front of | bird, and | bust and | door; |
Then, up | on the | velvet | sinking, | I be | took my | self to | linking |
| Fancy | unto | fancy, | thinking | what this | ominous | bird of | yore -- |
| What this | grim, un | gainly, | ghastly, | gaunt, and | ominous | bird of | yore |
|Meant in | croaking | "Never | more." |

| This I | sat en | gaged in | guessing, | but no | sylla | ble ex | pressing |
| To the | fowl whose | fiery | eyes now | burned in |to my | bosom's | core; |
| This and | more I | sat di | vining, | with my | head at | ease re | clining |
| On the | cushion's | velvet | lining | that the | lamp-light | gloated | o'er, |
| But whose | velvet- | violet | lining | with the | lamp-light | gloating | o'er, |
| She shall | press, ah, | never | more! |

| Then, me | thought, the | air grew | denser, | perfumed | from an | unseen | censer |
| Swung by | Sera | phim whose | foot-falls | tinkled | on the | tufted | floor. |
| "Wretch," I | cried, "thy | God hath | lent thee -- | by these | angels | he hath | sent thee |
| Respite | -- |respite | and ne | penthe | from thy | memories | of Le |nore! |
| Quaff, oh | quaff this | kind ne | penthe | and for | get this | lost Le | nore!" |
| Quoth the | Raven, | "Never | more." |

| "Prophet!" | said I, | "thing of | evil! -- | prophet | still, if | bird or |devil! -- |
| Whether | Tempter | sent, or | whether | tempest | tossed thee | here a | shore, |
| Deso | late, yet | all un | daunted, | on this | desert | land en | chanted -- |
| On this | home by | Horror | haunted, -- | tell me | truly, | I im | plore -- |
| Is there -- | is there | balm in | Gilead? -- | tell me -- | tell me, | I im | plore!" |
| Quoth the | Raven, | "Never | more." |

| "Prophet!" | said I, | "thing of | evil! -- | prophet | still, if | bird or | devil! |
| By that | heaven | that bends | above us -- | by that | God we | both a | dore, |
| Tell this | soul with | sorrow | laden | if, with | in the | distant | Aidenn, |
| It shall | clasp a | sainted | maiden | whom the | angels | name Le | nore -- |
| Clasp a | rare and |radiant | maiden | whom the | angels | name Le | nore." |
| Quoth the | Raven, | "Never| more." |
NOTE: Scan line two for yourself and see if you disagree with making the two syllable word “above” the stressed word. This is a very tricky line.

| "Be that | word our | sign of | parting, | bird or | fiend!" I | shrieked, up | starting -- |
| "Get thee | back in | to the | tempest | and the | Night's Plu | tonian | shore! |
| Leave no | black plume | as a | token | of that | lie thy | soul hath | spoken! |
| Leave my | loneli | ness un | broken! -- | quit the | bust a | bove my | door! |
| Take thy | beak from | out my | heart, and | take thy | form from | off my | door!" |
| Quoth the | Raven, | "Never | more." |

| And the | Raven, | never | flitting, | still is | sitting, |still is | sitting |
| On the | pallid | bust of | Pallas | just a | bove my | chamber | door; |
| And his | eyes have | all the | seeming | of a | demon's | that is | dreaming, |
| And the | lamp-light | o'er him | streaming | throws his | shadow | on the | floor; |
| And my | soul from | out that | shadow | that lies | floating | on the | floor |
| Shall be | lifted -- | never | more! |

[poetinahat]

Wow -- that's an excellent note on which to draw the discussion toward a close. And a perfect poem to discuss at this point. Thanks, Jeff. The rest of the article is definitely worth a read; Poe's method in constructing The Raven is marvelously meticulous; he didn't just, er, wing it.

It seems to me that the two-syllable pronunciation of three-syllable words, turning dactyls into trochees (e.g. "ra-dyant") would've been relatively conventional in that time, at least in poetry. It sounds perhaps excessively formal today, but it does sound elegant in comparison with "ray-dee-ant".

In the excerpt you present, Poe emphasises his particular combination of shorter and longer lines. But another technical aspect that makes The Raven stand out is the meticulous repetition of rhyme: the half-sentences rhyme too, giving the stanzas a form I might write like this:

aa/ab/cc/cb/db/b

where the underlined parts are the half-lines, and the lines are divided by slashes.

It's a fascinating look at the poem.

[Pat~]

Magdalen, like I said in the PM, I think your poem is brilliant, and a wonderful cap off to all of your efforts with the trochaic meter. Well-done!

Writer???, thanks so much for your grand finale with the Poe poem! That was an incredible amount of effort to scan that, and I appreciate your hard work. After struggling to write in trochees, I have newfound respect for Poe as a poet.

Thanks for a great workshop, Writer??? It was challenging and even sometimes tortuous, but invaluable--I learned a lot. :e2flowers

[Pat~]

Okay, Poe's poem inspired me to write a poem in trochee. I love the way he used the trochee to heighten the sense of persistence in his poem. So I wrote a poem about prayer in trochaic meter. Let me know what you think:

Knocking on Heaven's Door

In the light of each day-breaking,
With the trill of robin-waking,
Ere I start day's undertaking,
I will go to heaven's door.
There I'll start incessant pounding,
Fervent pleas through heav'n resounding,
And my God I won't stop hounding,
While I wait at heaven's door.
If this mortal soul is aching,
Or if heart is close to breaking,
I will pound though hands be shaking,
Till He open heaven's door.
I will wait like orphan foundling,
Till my God with grace astounding,
Answers me with love confounding,
Opening wide the heav'nly door.

[Writer???]

Pat - I love the poem for content. The message is personal, vivid and instructional to the reader. Good imagery. But, you specifically wrote this to trochaic so there are some technical nits.

The following line does not fit the structured meter. I tried allowing for catalectic and acatalectic feet and still couldn't make it fit.

the problem lies in heaven ending on an unstressed and resounding being a three syllable and begining with an unstressed.

| Fervent | pleas through | heaven | resound | ing, - ???

| Fervent | pleas through | heaven | resound| ing, - ???

The final line will work when opening is pronounced as two syls, (opning) but it still throws off the rhythm of every forth line being 3 1/2 feet. It just so comfortable by then that the end doesn't feel right. For the flow I might suggest for the last two lines:

Blessing me with love confounding
Opening wide the answered door.

(numbers are feet)

In the light of each day-breaking, - 4
With the trill of robin-waking, - 4
Ere I start day's undertaking, - 4
I will go to heaven's door. - 3 1/2
There I'll start incessant pounding, - 4
Fervent pleas through heaven resounding, - ? 4 1/2 (resounding is amphibraic, I'd suggest just "sounding")
And my God I won't stop hounding, - 4
While I wait at heaven's door. - 3 1/2
If this mortal soul is aching, - 4
Or if heart is close to breaking, - 4
I will pound though hands be shaking, - 4
Till He open heaven's door. - 3 1/2
I will wait like orphan foundling, - 4
Till my God with grace astounding, - 4
Answers me with love confounding, - 4
Opening wide the door. - 2 1/2

Other than that, great job!!

Just so's yall know. This post officially closes the redondilla workshop. My time needs to be devoted elsewhere for now. I thank you all so much for your participation and enthusiasm, even in the times of torture :D. It was very interesting and fun for me. I learned a great deal from all of you and I hope you leaned along the way as well. The information will be here to refer back to if needed.

Thanks again, and...Good Writing!!!

[Pat~]

Thanks, Writer??? for the crit. I cheated a bit with heaven, counting it as one syllable. I probably should've written it as heav'n.

fer vent pleas through heav'n re sound ing

is how it's supposed to sound...

And thanks for the catch on the last line. I forgot a word!

[Magdalen]

I enjoyed this workshop and I learned a lot about a poetry form I’d never really heard of before. After reading through some of the material provided (graciously and helpfully) I was eager to compose a poem in the redondilla style. At first I was interested in the history of the style and checking out the classic “Don Quioxte”. By the end of this WS I felt a little like the confused knight of old – instead of windmills I battled the trochee meter. In between, I had fun remembering my first love/broken heart to the tune of “Greensleeves”.

I’m Very, very grateful to Writer?? for all the time and effort and info he provided. I also appreciate the input (via crits and comments) from everyone in the class. I’ve never done something like this online before, and I had to come up to speed on how such a forum worked.

The other plus from this WS was when I went researching ballads, redondilla and Spanish history on my own. It’s still kind of amazing to think that this form has been around for 1,000 years; was used to convey heroic deeds of Spanish soldiers & knights; gained strength as a type of poem that celebrated Spanish pride and patriotism; was used to compose dialogue for actors in plays; evolved along with the language from Castillian to Spanish and was used by English-speaking poets, just this week, to celebrated their own individual feelings of nationalism. I also gained, personally, in my pursuit of the trochaic meter, which I may or may not use again soon!

I also especially enjoyed reading “The Raven” again, (with accents so painstakingly provided) with my new-found understanding of the trochaic meter and my well-established love of EA Poe. Thanks again. Writer?? and AW workshops are cool!

[Magdalen]

Also thanks to Pat, Jeff and Rob for putting up with me, giving of their time and skills to progress my progress and being fun classmates.!!!:Hug2:

When/what is the next workshop????;)

[poetinahat]

Pat, that's a delightful poem. It sounds very much like your voice.


=====================


I'm glad everyone has enjoyed the workshop. Jeff, thank you for all your work and the occasional prodding to keep us going. It's been excellent.

Thank you to everyone; it's been great good fun working with you here.

Please see the Workshop Schedule (http://www.absolutewrite.com/forums/showthread.php?t=68634) thread for future workshop information.

~ fin ~