Words [Rev 2, 27 Oct], Rhyme in Heptameter Options

[Larry]

Revision #2 (thanks to Mary, Merlin & Amythyst)

Words

Strange lines, woven together in an odd, haphazard way,
are writhing on with twists and turns. Across the centuries
they’re painted, coarsely carved in caves; all meaning lost today,
or finely penned on parchment in precise calligraphy‘s

revealing goodness, evil, love or hatred, truth or lies;
reside where they’re ensconced, awaiting one who understands.
When heralding a birth or etched in stone at one’s demise,
each line is new. Though used before by many different hands;

they’re easily affordable to paupers and to kings.
The cost is naught but knowledge of their structure and portent.
Lines neither know the smiles or tears their convolution brings,
nor wait, with baited breath, returns, from where they’re sometimes sent.

From animal caricatures to geometric forms,
these lines give meaning to a thought, a way, a time or place.
Linguistically elusive, yet their shape, like mother’s arms;
when understood, brings to the mind the Words in warm embrace.

Dedicated to Wordsmiths everywhere and everywhen.

[Mary Boren]

Hi Larry. I have the feeling we've met before, but I may have you confused with someone else. In any case, it's a pleasure. You may be new to MM, but clearly form poetry is not new to you. I'm seeing an exceptional grasp of the rudiments of rhyme and meter. And you've chosen a subject here that is dear to the heart of any wordsmith. No doubt everyone here has a cupboard full of poem poems. We couldn't subsist on a steady diet of 'em, but there's nothing wrong with shop talk on occasion.

Others have already picked up on a couple of things I would have mentioned -- the misuse of "calligraphies" and overuse of semicolons. The minor punctuational revisions haven't really altered the endstopped character of these lines, but singsonginess is not an issue in heptameter. I like enjambment because it's closer to the rhythms of natural speech and allows more freedom in rhyming. But it's an acquired taste, still objectionable to many of the old school, and in matters of personal taste who's to say one's right and another wrong? Forgive me if I'm telling you things you already know.

My favorite bits in this are:

writhing on with twists and turns across the centuries

My first thought was that writhing is not an accurate picture, but it grew on me. It not only connotes the the pangs of birth and death, it also plants a subliminal connection with writing. The twists and turns conjure images of an unhurried voyage down the river of time.

resting where they're placed, awaiting one who understands

This brings to mind James Elroy Flecker's To a Poet a Thousand Years Hence. One of my favorites.

heralding a birth or etched in stone at one's demise

These words are extremely well put-together. A perfect example of the economy of language that makes poetry touch us on an elevated plane. In other circles, "etched in stone" would likely draw a hail of "Cliche!" responses, but I wouldn't be among the chorus.

Now to the nitpicking:

Way too many thes, theys, and variations thereof. Those lazy little pronouns will gang up by the water cooler all day if you allow it -- replace 'em with working words. With the exception of the bits quoted above, the poem tells rather than shows.

The lines, all strung together in a strange haphazard way

I think there are better adjectives to describe well-crafted lines, but maybe that's not what you have in mind. Even so, you need a comma after strange.

Some tell of good and evil, love and hate, or truth and lies;
are resting where they're placed, awaiting one who understands.

There's something wrong with this sentence. If you take away the modifying clauses, you have "Some tell ... are resting." Easily fixed, but I'm not going to suggest a fix and deprive you of the joy of finding your own.

forever new but used before by many different hands.

Are words used by hands? Penned by hands, used by minds, I would think.

They neither know the smiles nor tears their convolution brings,
or wait with baited breath, returns, from where they're sometimes sent.

This is pretty convoluted in itself, Larry. It doesn't make sense to me. "They neither know ... or wait ... returns?" Are you intending "returns" as a verb or a noun? Seems a long way around to express the idea that words don't have an emotional investment in us. Is that anywhere close to what you're saying?

From animal caricatures to geometric forms,

How do you scan this line, Larry? Unless you pronounce caricature in a way I've never heard, your meter goes south here.

from AN / i mal / CAR i / ca TURES ...

Linguistically elusive, yet their shape, like mother's arms;
when understood, brings to the mind the Words, in warm embrace.

Sounds pretty, but what does it mean? Again, your syntax may be working against logic here. Are you saying the shape of the words is like mother's arms? The words' shape brings the words to mind? I'm lost.

I hope I've offered something helpful. I'll be watching you with interest.

Mary