Archive for February, 2011

  • Metre

    Put quite simply, metre is the rhythmic beat of poetry; its recognisable repeating rhythmic patterns. We can define metre as combinations of stressed and unstressed beats (a unit of metre is called a foot) and the most commonly repeating patterns of metric feet are given specific names. In the more formal poetic forms there are hard and fast rules about metre, but even free verse can be described in terms of metre (after all an absence of formality is still making a point, right?).

    I will explore some of the more commonly used metres below, and provide you with examples. Don’t worry if you can’t hear the stresses straight away, like anything unpacking poetry can take a little bit of practice. If you’re struggling, try saying the sentences out loud and clapping the beats which seem to take more emphasis. These should be your stressed syllables.

    I have a handy little verse I learned at school which acts as a little reminder for me, and is a good source to check against if I find a line of poetry I’m unsure about. Here is it, feel free to use it yourself:

    Iambus comes with steady pace,

    Swift the Trochee takes its place,

    Following Dactyl on pattering feet,

    The Amphibrach next with its stressed middle beat,

    But the last in the line and not least is the rare Anapaest.

     

    Can you hear the metre change with each line? Let’s have a look in more detail:

    Iambic Metre

    The iambus is the most simple and most commonly occurring metre. It is very similar to the normal English speech pattern and that is why we find it the easiest to write in and to recognise. It consists of an unstressed syllable followed by a stressed one and is usually transcribed as  (/  X).

    Let’s apply some annotations to the iambic bit of our rhyme:

    / X / X / X / X
    I- am- bus comes with stea- dy pace

     

    This way of transcribing breaks up the line of poetry into feet, and in this case each foot is made up of one unstressed syllable (/) followed by one stressed syllable (X). We can see that iambic metre is disyllabic (consisting of two syllables per foot) and a rising metre (it ends in a stressed beat). Where there are four feet per line (as in our example above), we can describe this as tetrameter. The above line is therefore written in iambic tetrameter (please see my other article on line length and metre).

    Famous lines of poetry written in an iambic metre include many of Shakespeare’s sonnets. One of my favourite poems, ‘She Walks In Beauty Like The Night’ by Lord Byron is written in iambic tetrameter. Here is the first verse.

    She walks in beauty, like the night
    Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
    And all that’s best of dark and bright
    Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
    Thus mellowed to that tender light
    Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

    Trochaic Metre

    The trochee is a reverse iamb, it is a stressed syllable followed by an unstressed one and it is transcribed (X/).

    To show it in our rhyme:

    X / X / X / X
    Swift the tro- chee takes its place

     

    You can see that the trochee provides us with a stressed syllable followed by an unstressed syllable. As you might expect it is also disyllabic, but it falls rather than rises (it ends on an unstressed beat). Because it is the iamb’s opposite it is often interspersed with iambic metre to create an effect.

    As you can see the last foot in the line is unfinished. This is quite a common practice in poetry and is often used for added emphasis. The above line also contains four feet and it therefore written in trochaic tetrameter (even though it has one unfinished foot at the end).

    An example of trochaic metre can be found in one of the witches’ speeches in Shakespeare’s  Macbeth:

    (Act IV, Scene I)

    Hubble, bubble, toil and trouble

    Fire burn and cauldron bubble.

    Dactylic Metre

    The dactyl is a very distinctive metre and one which is often used to add pace to a poem. It has a pattering action and a poem with dactylic metre is likely to have polysyllabic words in it. It consists of one stressed syllable followed by two unstressed syllables and can be transcribed (X//):

     

    X / / X / / X / /
    Foll- ow- ing Dac- tyl on patt- er ing

     

    X
    feet

     

    As you can see the Dactyl is tri-syllabic (it has three syllables per foot) and it is a falling metre because it ends on an unstressed beat. In the line above the last two unstressed beats of the last foot have been dropped.

    A famous example of dactylic metre is in the first few lines of ‘The Lost Leader’ by Robert Browning:

    Just for a handful of silver he left us

    Just for a riband to stick in his coat

    Amphibrachic Metre

    The amphibrach is less used than the above three types of metre, but it is a useful one to know. It consists of one unstressed beat, one stressed beat and another unstressed beat and can be transcribed as (/X/).

     

    / X / / X / / X /
    The Am- phi- brach next with its stressed mid-

     

    / X
    -dle beat

     

    The amphibrach is a tri-syllabic metre, with a rise in the middle. An example of amphibrachic metre is this excerpt from ‘Jinny The Just’ by Matthew Prior.

    Releas’d from the noise of the butcher and baker
    Who, my old friends be thanked, did seldom forsake her,
    And from the soft duns of my landlord the Quaker

    Limericks often contain an element of amphibrachic metre. You can hear it in this first line:

    There once was a lady called Joan

    (and I’ll leave you to pen the rest).

     

    Anapaestic Metre

    The Anapaest consists of two unstressed syllables followed by a stressed one. It is a rising tri-syllabic metre. It is transcribed (/ / X).

    / / X / / X / / X
    And the last in the line but not least

     

    / / X / / X
    is the rare An- a- paest

     

    Because it is a tri-syllabic metre, like the amphibrach it can be used to comic effect and to generate a distinctive pace. It is also used in limericks. The famous ‘A Visit from St. Nicholas’ is written in anapaestic metre as you can see below:

    ‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,

    Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.’

    Other types of feet

    There are a number of other useful feet to know including the Spondee which consists of two stressed syllables (X X) and the Pyrrhus which consists of two unstressed syllables( / /). These feet are not generally used for a whole line of poetry but rather as interjections to break up or join other metres.

     

    by Claire Jones

     

  • What to do about Writer’s Block?

    Writer’s Block happens to poets too, you know. Except in our case it’s called ‘The darkling veil of nothingness’, or something…

    Anyway, there are loads of things you can do when inspiration fails you. Here are my top 10 suggestions:

    1. Go for a walk/ run/ bike ride – anything outside.

    Get out in the fresh air and STOP THINKING ABOUT POETRY! Look at the world around you, snoop at other people and listen in to their conversations; you never know they might come out with something interesting. As you walk, try to clear your head and just relax. Even if this doesn’t cure your block immediately, doing some exercise will make you feel better about the chocolate biscuits you’re going to eat when you get back.

    2. Get your other jobs out of the way

    Unless you’re one of those lucky people who has nothing else to do all day but muse and write and write and muse, thinking about all of those other little jobs you should be doing instead of writing can be enormously distracting. So, make a decision on what you absolutely need to do and what can really wait awhile. Try to be realistic and only give in on the things that are really important (like feeding your kids or going to work) and realise that other things can wait. Once you’ve decided which jobs are in the critical list, get them done and out of the way before you start writing. I tend to clear anything in my eyeline – all other mess is non-existent from where I sit.

    3. Brainstorm

    Open the dictionary at a random page, close your eyes and stab your finger onto a word. Write that word in the middle of a piece of paper and draw a box/ circle/ flower around it. This is your prompt. Now start to brainstorm. Write down anything that you associate with your initial prompt, and then anything you associate with that association. Don’t stop until you are running out of room and you’re having to write sideways to cram the ideas on the page. If you’ve found a particularly interesting line of association then carry it on with a new sheet of paper. This is a good way to disconnect yourself from the process of thinking and allow your unconscious mind to come to the fore.

    4. Stream of Consciousness

    Take a prompt from the dictionary again, or an idea that you discovered during your brainstorming session and write for fifteen minutes on this prompt. You can do this for poetry or prose. If what comes out sounds like a cohesive block of writing you’re probably on your way to writing a passage of prose, if it comes out in shorter bursts perhaps it’s a poem in the making. Whichever way it comes, it is useful to allow yourself to write unfettered and for no particular aim. It doesn’t matter if it doesn’t make sense – just keep on practising this technique and soon ideas will start to flow.

    5.Observation

    Go and pick a random object from your home; a sock, book, cheese-grater – whatever. Put it in front of you and start looking at it. As you look, jot down anything you notice about it, it’s colour, size, how the light catches it. Pick it up and smell it, lick it (obviously at your discretion), rub it on your face (again, careful people), try to get to grips with what is unique about it. Note down any ideas that are coming through. Does it remind you of anything else? As you’re examining your object and writing notes, start to think up some images for describing it. For example, your sock might smell like Jacob’s Crackers, your cheese grater might remind you of a suit of armour riddled with punctures etc. Keep going with this and do it for any object you fancy.

    6. Take a break

    Give yourself five minutes. Have a cuppa and a biscuit. Actually take the time to stop and don’t be tempted to pop off and start something else. Let yourself relax. This can be a really good way of calming down an over-wrought mind, and poetry can’t flow if you’re not thinking straight. So put your feet up and stop thinking about anything – just for five minutes.

    7. Inspiration

    Get yourself a good poetry book (I recommend Staying Alive edited by Neil Astley) or go online and search for some poetry. Take some time to read and digest other people’s poetry. I like to keep a list of poets I find particularly inspiring so that I can look up more of their work at a later date. If you find a particularly great poem you might feel inspired to write a response to it. This kind of writing is great because you can build on themes that have already been started, it’s up to you where you take them.

    8. Collaboration

    If you’re lucky enough to have a fellow poet in the vicinity then get them round for a collaboration session. Talking about poetry, sharing ideas and rhymes can be a great source of inspiration. Start off with some rude or funny limericks, play word association games. Most of all be aware that you’re not alone. We all suffer with a block sometimes and hearing someone else’s viewpoint on it can be a massive relief.

    9. Google-it.

    If I’m struggling to write a poem about a particular subject I sometimes turn to the all-powerful Google for information. Sometimes getting some solid facts down in front of you can act as a skeleton on which to hang the flesh of your poem. For example, if you want to write a poem about a bridge get online and search for any bridge you can think of; London Bridge, the Brooklyn Bridge – whatever. Note down any facts you find out that you think you could incorporate in your poem. You’ll be surprised about what you learn. I also think that fact-finding like this can make the resulting poem much more interesting.

    10. Don’t be afraid to give it up for the day.

    If these tricks simply aren’t working for you, then don’t be afraid to put your notebook away and do something else. A rest is as good as a cure and sometimes that is just what we need. Get an early night, get a massage, get pissed. Do whatever you like but don’t worry – your poetry will still be there in the morning!

    Claire Jones

  • Sticky Mouse

    Your bags were packed when you got home,
    and not metaphorically
    either. I made up my mind without you
    because otherwise I’d get lost
    in your labyrinth excuses,
    finding myself leaning against
    false walls and falling into traps.

    I left your things outside the door,
    discreetly because I’m not the
    kind of wife who’d chop your suits
    to bits and strew them on the lawn
    in a fit of pique. I’ll give up
    quietly, bailing out. This marriage
    is holding water; going down.

    I included everything I
    knew you’d need because there’s no point
    in providing reasons for you
    to come back home and bamboozle
    me with your skewed logic that it
    was a sticky mouse button which
    caused you to add her as a friend.

    by Claire Jones

  • Dear George

    Yesterday I felt like the worst mother in the world
    when I let you play on Club Penguin for two hours straight
    just so I could finish off my assignment for university.
    I fed you supernoodles with grated cheese for tea
    and bathed you with one hand while I read-up on
    indirect free speech with the other.

    Yesterday I felt like a terrible mother because I
    hadn’t planned the shopping properly and we
    ran out of bread so I couldn’t make you sandwiches
    for your packed lunch and we had to get you a Ginster’s
    pasty from the garage on the way instead. I also bought a
    two-finger Kit Kat in the hope that you’d forgive me.

    Yesterday I felt so inadequate when you were hopping around
    with your pants on your head pretending to be a balaclava-clad
    freedom-fighter, not listening to my requests for
    you to stop and put them on the right way, all because
    I don’t spend enough time disciplining you properly in a calm
    but effective way, with sticker charts and a naughty step.

    Yesterday I felt sure that Social Services were going to come round
    and tell me off because it’s been almost a week since I
    vacuumed upstairs and there has been a squashed hot
    cross bun down the back of the sofa for three days now.
    I only know because your sister found it yesterday and
    started eating it while she was waiting for her breakfast.

    Yesterday I felt like screaming a little bit when I noticed that
    we’d run out of clean vests so I went into the bathroom and
    put a towel to my mouth so that you wouldn’t hear me swearing.
    Then I went and put a white wash on without noticing the
    treacherous red sock and now you have pink vests for school
    which could possibly result in you being bullied by children with inflexible gender-ideals.

    Today I found the title page of The Confident Child in the DVD player
    and when I straightened it out there was a pencil drawing of me
    with really long arms and a big smile, wearing a cape
    and holding a magic wand in my hand. Underneath the picture it said

    ‘my mummy is a superhero’

    Today I feel like the best mother ever.

    by Claire Jones