On The Verge, Sonnet in Tersa Rima Options

[Guest_Kathy_*]

On the Verge. (Tersa Rima)

Alone. It's hot. Familiar odours steam
in tones of brown. The trees are breathing earth;
dark humus wets their feet and mine. I lean
against an ancient Puriri, its girth
a measurement of time. It gathers me,
absorbs my consciousness, and gives me birth

into another world ... of energy
that flows between the trees; that fiercely sweeps
in elemental chaos from the sea
and buffets, sneers at innocence that sleeps
upon the threshold. Help! A sly green man
is giggling in the leaves, enchantment creeps

in tangled vines. I run while yet I can,
my feet inspired by panic, lent by Pan.



NB: The Puriri is a New Zealand native tree.

[JLY]

Kathy,
I enjoyed the flow of this one and your rhymes were not forced...they all seemed to have a natural ring to them.

I particularly liked these lines:

against an ancient Puriri, its girth
a measurement of time. It gathers me,

I appreciate the heads up definition for Puriri. That is something that is unfamiliar to me.

Nicely done, no crits from me at this juncture.

JLY

[Eisa]

Beautifully written Kathy. I love your easy, conversational style, where rhymes just blend in so naturally.

On the Verge. (Tersa Rima)

Alone. It's hot. Familiar odours steam
in tones of brown. The trees are breathing earth;
dark humus wets their feet and mine. I lean
against an ancient Puriri, its girth
a measurement of time. It gathers me,
absorbs my consciousness, and gives me birth

into another world ... of energy
that flows between the trees; that fiercely sweeps
in elemental chaos from the sea
and buffets, sneers at innocence that sleeps
upon the threshold. Help! A sly green man
is giggling in the leaves, enchantment creeps

in tangled vines. I run while yet I can,
my feet inspired by panic, lent by Pan.

At the moment I can see nothing I'd change except perhaps the last but one line where 'yet' sounds a bit of a filler.

Perhaps ~

in tangled vines. I run while I still can,

in tangled vines, I hurry while I can

in tangled vines, I race off while I can


NB: The Puriri is a New Zealand native tree.

Hugs Snow

[AMETHYST]

Hi Kathy,

I too adored the conversational tone, the way the voice of the narrator invites the reader to 'see' with the inner mind what he/she sees, to feel the accumulative detail set a mood - I love Terza Rima's, and this is a perfect example of their beauty.

Hugs, Liz ..

On the Verge. (Tersa Rima)

Alone. It's hot. Familiar odours steam
in tones of brown. The trees are breathing earth;
dark humus wets their feet and mine. I lean
against an ancient Puriri, its girth
a measurement of time. It gathers me,
absorbs my consciousness, and gives me birth

I love the smooth rhythm of L1. I also LOVE '...trees are breathing earth;
The images and context within are excellent. The line ' its girth a measurement of time.' is awesome!



into another world ... of energy
that flows between the trees; that fiercely sweeps
in elemental chaos from the sea
and buffets, sneers at innocence that sleeps
upon the threshold. Help! A sly green man
is giggling in the leaves, enchantment creeps

Excellent. The introduction of the green man, adds a twist of adventure.

in tangled vines. I run while yet I can,
my feet inspired by panic, lent by Pan.

Excellent

[Cleo_Serapis]

Hi Kathy.

I enjoyed this fantasy poem very much! I still haven't read the book or seen the movie or yet, but I knew which it was when I got your closing couplet. Tee hee! Pan's Labyrinth....

I only found two lines to offer alternates on for you below. Please take or toss as you wish.

Alone. It's hot. Familiar odours steam
in tones of brown. The trees are breathing earth;
dark humus wets their feet and mine. I lean
against an ancient Puriri, its girth
a measurement of time. It gathers me,
absorbs my consciousness, and gives me birth
The woods are alive! Good imagery.

into another world ... of energy
that flows between the trees; {that} [it] fiercely sweeps
in elemental chaos from the sea
and buffets, sneers at innocence that sleeps
upon the threshold. Help! A sly green man
is giggling in the leaves, enchantment creeps
Love this stanza!

in tangled vines. I run while yet I can,
[in tangled vines. I run while I still can,]
my feet inspired by panic, lent by Pan.
Cool!

[Guest_Kathy_*]

Hi Kathy.

I enjoyed this fantasy poem very much! I still haven't read the book or seen the movie or yet, but I knew which it was when I got your closing couplet. Tee hee! Pan's Labyrinth....

I only found two lines to offer alternates on for you below. Please take or toss as you wish.

Alone. It's hot. Familiar odours steam
in tones of brown. The trees are breathing earth;
dark humus wets their feet and mine. I lean
against an ancient Puriri, its girth
a measurement of time. It gathers me,
absorbs my consciousness, and gives me birth
The woods are alive! Good imagery.

into another world ... of energy
that flows between the trees; {that} [it] fiercely sweeps
in elemental chaos from the sea
and buffets, sneers at innocence that sleeps
upon the threshold. Help! A sly green man
is giggling in the leaves, enchantment creeps
Love this stanza!

in tangled vines. I run while yet I can,
[in tangled vines. I run while I still can,]
my feet inspired by panic, lent by Pan.
Cool!

Ah Cleo! I have just got back after spending several nights away, out of Internet contact.

Pan's Labyrinth! I am going to see that with a friend on Tuesday. It's like my poem?

It is a kind of fantasy of course, but it also happened. Sort of. A long time ago. Around puberty actually.

Folk-lore is similar, around the world. New Zealand is no exception; they have fairy folk too, and I wanted to draw parallels. The feelings re energy are very strong in New Zealand.

So. I will definately see Pan's Labyrinth now.

Cool.

.

[Guest_Kathy_*]

Thank you, JLY, Liz, Snow and Cleo for your encouraging and helpful comments. I think this one often bothers people a bit, though I love to read it aloud. Too bad I don't have contact with poets in everyday life, but you understand what I am trying to do, and that means a lot.

Hugs, K

[Norman D Gutter]

Kathy:

I always feel like such a killjoy, coming in after so many positive crits as you've received and saying negative things. So let me preface all this by suggesting you treat this as written by an old coot avoiding starting his work day, who never finds anything good to say. Let me also suggest that you possibly not change a thing in the sonnet. Treat this as a more of an explication, with the explicator wondering why certain things are as they are, than as a critique.

Nothing wrong at all with a terza rima sonnet. I don't see many of them, but possibly it is a technique we sonneteers should look to more often. The interlocking rhymes do not perhaps sound quite as melodic as either of the two main sonnet types, but they do sound good to a formalist's ear. In this case, though, the closeness of your "a" rhyme and "c" rhyme [ -eam and -ee] I found troubling. It sounded like you were using the same rhyme over again, and it was only on the second read I realized it was a slightly different rhyme.

Then, I had trouble trying to figure out the underlying message of the sonnet. Was it a just a description, or was it something deeper? Dusting off a few normally-unused gray cells from the non-dominant side of my brain, I thought till it hurt and decided it is about irrational panic attacks. Am I close? I understand those because my wife gets them.

I'm a bit confused by your verb tenses. You are mostly present tense [is, steam, wets, lean, gathers, absorbs, gives, flows, sweeps, buffets, sneers, sleeps, creeps, run]. Yet, in L2 you have "are breathing" and in L12 you have "is giggling". I guess those are still present tense of "to be" with the verbs turned to gerunds; or is it some kind of present perfect tense or something? I forget those names. Either way, both have the appearance of a change in tense to make meter work. Granted, I didn't see this till the third read.

Some in-lines:

On the Verge.>>> I like the title; it adds to the understanding without giving anything away. In fact, linking this with my idea of the irrational panic attacks, I'd say the message is that the panic attacks are pushing the p/n to the point of insanity--though I might be over-analyzing.

Alone. It's hot. Familiar odours steam
in tones of brown. The trees are breathing earth;>>>I can't get my brain to link odors with colors. This is not a criticism, and is possibly a question of taste, about which there can be no argument. And I love the concept of trees breathing earth. This is my favorite part of the poem.
dark humus wets their feet and mine. I lean>>>Another good concept, ascribing action to the humus soil. Well done.
against an ancient Puriri, its girth
a measurement of time. It gathers me,
absorbs my consciousness, and gives me birth>>>Again, the closeness of vowel sound in "me" to "steam-lean" gives me some confusing with the rhyming scheme without additional, close readings. BTW, I don't think you need the explanation of the tree name. The context makes it obvious you are talking about a tree.

into another world ... of energy
that flows between the trees; that fiercely sweeps>>>I see your volta as being at the semi-colon. Until then, all the images have been positive. Now, suddenly, the energy sweeps fiercely in chaos, and in a couple of lines, will buffet and sneer. All negative concepts which build to the panic attack.
in elemental chaos from the sea>>>I don't understand the elemental chaos. It sounds poetic, but I don't understand why it's in the poem, and what it adds to the understanding. Oh, well, I suppose a critter--er, explicator--can't hope to understand each and every image. Although, that's what explication is all about.
and buffets, sneers at innocence that sleeps
upon the threshold. Help! A sly green man>>>Again, energy flowing betwen trees and sweeping, buffeting, and sneering, all apparently in a forest type setting (or at least not at a house), then doing these to "innocence that sleeps upon the threshold" is a difficult concept for this engineer's mind to grasp. Also, I found the call for "help" before revealing the need for help being backwards. There's some literary term for this, and in novel writing class they drill this into you: Don't reverse the cause and effect.
is giggling in the leaves, enchantment creeps>>> I see enchantment creeping in tangled vines as being more detached from the giggling green man than a comma justifies. This seems a place for a semi-colon, or perhaps an em-dash. Although, I know punctuation usage has evolved differently between the mother country and the colonies, and no doubt from colony to colony as well.

in tangled vines. I run while yet I can,
my feet inspired by panic, lent by Pan.>>>I know nothing of Pan (or any other mythology), and hadn't heard of the movie and book Lori mentioned. He being a sly green man made me think of a leprechaun. It is the mixing of positive and negative concepts in these lines which lead me to the irrational panic attack conclusion: help (negative), giggling (positive), enchantment (positive), tangled (somewhat negative), inspired (positive), panic (negative). Panic being inspring is an oxymoron, and a good one. The "while yet I can" speaks to me of the panic causing the p/n to almost freeze into the inability to do anything; creeping, tangled vines also speaks to this.

Well, to loosely quote Carlyle, this critique is too long, but I have not time to make it shorter. I fear I've done enough damage as is, and have way over-analyzed, but what's done is done.

Best Regards,
NDG

[Guest_Kathy_*]

****Hi NDG, I nearly missed you, way down the end of the page. Thanks for this thoughtful crit/comment.

Kathy:

I always feel like such a killjoy, coming in after so many positive crits as you've received and saying negative things. So let me preface all this by suggesting you treat this as written by an old coot avoiding starting his work day, who never finds anything good to say. Let me also suggest that you possibly not change a thing in the sonnet. Treat this as a more of an explication, with the explicator wondering why certain things are as they are, than as a critique.

**** Fine Norm, I appreciate your time, and it is nice to chat.

Nothing wrong at all with a terza rima sonnet. I don't see many of them, but possibly it is a technique we sonneteers should look to more often. The interlocking rhymes do not perhaps sound quite as melodic as either of the two main sonnet types, but they do sound good to a formalist's ear. In this case, though, the closeness of your "a" rhyme and "c" rhyme [ -eam and -ee] I found troubling. It sounded like you were using the same rhyme over again, and it was only on the second read I realized it was a slightly different rhyme.

**** Rhymes are interesting things. I like to explore their uses quite a bit, including the effects of proximity of sound. Tersa Rima seems to be like a ladder to me, linking one thing to another in progression. It can have a faintly odd, spooky feel to me, and I tried to use that here. the close rhyme draws things together in an almost unchanging way. Like a hot, stuffy day, or when things seem safe and a bit boring.

Then, I had trouble trying to figure out the underlying message of the sonnet. Was it a just a description, or was it something deeper? Dusting off a few normally-unused gray cells from the non-dominant side of my brain, I thought till it hurt and decided it is about irrational panic attacks. Am I close? I understand those because my wife gets them.

**** I am impressed that you thought so hard about this. Irrational panic is in there. So yes, to an extent, it is. Did you know that the word 'panic' somes from the god Pan? According to folklore, the overwhelming feelings we now call 'panic' were his trademark; the signal of his presence.
Hugs to your wife.


I'm a bit confused by your verb tenses. You are mostly present tense [is, steam, wets, lean, gathers, absorbs, gives, flows, sweeps, buffets, sneers, sleeps, creeps, run]. Yet, in L2 you have "are breathing" and in L12 you have "is giggling". I guess those are still present tense of "to be" with the verbs turned to gerunds; or is it some kind of present perfect tense or something? I forget those names. Either way, both have the appearance of a change in tense to make meter work. Granted, I didn't see this till the third read.

**** Parts of speech are not my strong point. It's all in present tense though, and in the active voice to give immediacy. Gerunds have been much misrepresented, as I understand the matter: not all 'ing' words are gerunds. Some 'ing' words are simply in the process of happening. A gerund is a verb that used to be a noun. I will try and find a useful link.


Some in-lines:

On the Verge.>>> I like the title; it adds to the understanding without giving anything away. In fact, linking this with my idea of the irrational panic attacks, I'd say the message is that the panic attacks are pushing the p/n to the point of insanity--though I might be over-analyzing.

**** On the verge; between two worlds. It actually happened to me the summer I reached puberty. I was becoming aware of invisible streams of energy that flowed between people. Sexual energy especially, but also hidden signals and implications that seemed threatening because I could not yet interpret them. Yes, on the verge between being control and its opposite. Between the two worlds of childhood and adulthood, and ..... perhaps something else....

Alone. It's hot. Familiar odours steam
in tones of brown. The trees are breathing earth;>>>I can't get my brain to link odors with colors. This is not a criticism, and is possibly a question of taste, about which there can be no argument. And I love the concept of trees breathing earth. This is my favorite part of the poem.
dark humus wets their feet and mine. I lean>>>Another good concept, ascribing action to the humus soil. Well done.

****Thanks Norman. These slips between senses are the beginning of a kind of changed consciousness. Some people always smell colours or sounds, feel them inside or on their skin, taste emotions and so on.

against an ancient Puriri, its girth
a measurement of time. It gathers me,
absorbs my consciousness, and gives me birth>>>Again, the closeness of vowel sound in "me" to "steam-lean" gives me some confusing with the rhyming scheme without additional, close readings. BTW, I don't think you need the explanation of the tree name. The context makes it obvious you are talking about a tree.

**** This is as close as it gets. In an instant, now, you near the verge with me.

into another world ... of energy
that flows between the trees; that fiercely sweeps>>>I see your volta as being at the semi-colon. Until then, all the images have been positive. Now, suddenly, the energy sweeps fiercely in chaos, and in a couple of lines, will buffet and sneer. All negative concepts which build to the panic attack.

**** The volta really is at 'gives me birth into another world of energy...'
Yes, hard to swallow, and this poem has caused a stir in some circles, so I am told. This world of energy really did seem to swirl between the trees, linking them like some kind of community or group consciousness, and immense currents seemed to flood from the sea. Not negative, no. Huge though, and scary.

in elemental chaos from the sea>>>I don't understand the elemental chaos. It sounds poetic, but I don't understand why it's in the poem, and what it adds to the understanding. Oh, well, I suppose a critter--er, explicator--can't hope to understand each and every image. Although, that's what explication is all about.

**** You know the kind of thing, I am sure. You must have stood by the ocean and felt this fierceness. Elemental, of the elements. Primal. Very specific to the sea. A thunderstorm has it too, but it is quite different.

and buffets, sneers at innocence that sleeps
upon the threshold. Help! A sly green man>>>Again, energy flowing betwen trees and sweeping, buffeting, and sneering, all apparently in a forest type setting (or at least not at a house), then doing these to "innocence that sleeps upon the threshold" is a difficult concept for this engineer's mind to grasp. Also, I found the call for "help" before revealing the need for help being backwards. There's some literary term for this, and in novel writing class they drill this into you: Don't reverse the cause and effect.

**** Ah. An Engineer. I have great respect for Engineers. Logic is important to me too. But at this time something else was happening.

We go now to folklore around the world. The virgin as a sacrificial object. The Green Man. Pan. The Maori have similar folktakes. They have fairies too: I originally called this

Hang on, I have to go and find it...

Here 'tis: Patupaiarehe Summer. Patupaiarehe are the Maori equivalent of fairies. This is where the panic came in. I saw something. You can decide if it was real or not.

is giggling in the leaves, enchantment creeps>>> I see enchantment creeping in tangled vines as being more detached from the giggling green man than a comma justifies. This seems a place for a semi-colon, or perhaps an em-dash. Although, I know punctuation usage has evolved differently between the mother country and the colonies, and no doubt from colony to colony as well.

**** it could be a semicolon. Yet this Green Man is very close to enchantment, even in the Antipodes.

in tangled vines. I run while yet I can,
my feet inspired by panic, lent by Pan.>>>I know nothing of Pan (or any other mythology), and hadn't heard of the movie and book Lori mentioned. He being a sly green man made me think of a leprechaun.

**** Just as an intellectual exercise it is interesting to compare folklorish stories. Said Leprechaun is one such interestingness. I hadn't heard of the book/movie either, and still haven't got to see the movie.

I wrote this ages ago. Here:

http://p197.ezboard.com/fthesonnetboardfrm...picID=471.topic


It is the mixing of positive and negative concepts in these lines which lead me to the irrational panic attack conclusion: help (negative), giggling (positive), enchantment (positive), tangled (somewhat negative), inspired (positive), panic (negative). Panic being inspring is an oxymoron, and a good one. The "while yet I can" speaks to me of the panic causing the p/n to almost freeze into the inability to do anything; creeping, tangled vines also speaks to this.

**** Well, consider the relativity of such terms as 'positive' and 'negative.' In this case the great oceans of energy were not negative, but were fearsome, this malevolent giggling in the leaves was not positive, and enchantment is just plain scary.
Borders slip again: panic was once caused (ie inspired) by Pan, so why not again? Not so much a contradiction of terms as one may think, hey? But what IS real, anyway?

You are right about the 'while yet I can' though. Pretty soon one may not be able to do anything.

Well, to loosely quote Carlyle, this critique is too long, but I have not time to make it shorter. I fear I've done enough damage as is, and have way over-analyzed, but what's done is done.

Best Regards,
NDG

****To quote him back, likewise. But this long response is wot it is, and not what it is not. Thanks for your interest.

Cheers, K

.

[Guest_Kathy_*]

Norman? You think this wierd poem makes a person's head spin? Get a gander at these re GERUND:

http://www.usingenglish.com/glossary/gerund.html

http://owl.english.purdue.edu/handouts/gra.../g_verbals.html

http://www.britannica.com/dictionary?va=ge...mp;query=gerund

http://www.thefreedictionary.com/gerund