Poems and poetry as experiential art experiments, created by a dedicated core, sparking consciousness river, word slurry. A harvest of poems and creative thought from a creative collective cadre.
New sonnet form? I love the descending number of syllables as a distinct form! After trying a sonnet for the first time, I love the playfulness of this one and still calling it a sonnet!
I'd love to hear more from you around the emergence of this for you.
Like you, Janice, I am playing with the form. It felt like something to tweak--to keep an intentionality to counting syllables, but not the same intentionality of making them all equal. The hardest part was getting those end lines to work. The last two syllables to rhyme.
i love this zhoom ode (sonnet) the consonance between topic (the zhoom - and i like the j too oo - jhoom) and form, divine perfection
enjoying the word jazz opinionless tone-word-rhythm-mesh...floorward impelled ... room turned sanctuary...
vertebrae [juxtaposed with] rosary ropes
this last holds with me, reminds me of a vision a friend had in circle, the ancestors like ropes going from earth through us and up to the nightsky. tracing the chords of our larger tuning. we (our energies, our physical guitar bodies) are mandolin strings [or some larger instrument that makes a sound like the spinofearth] of gaia
New sonnet form? I love the descending number of syllables as a distinct form! After trying a sonnet for the first time, I love the playfulness of this one and still calling it a sonnet!
ReplyDeleteI'd love to hear more from you around the emergence of this for you.
Like you, Janice, I am playing with the form. It felt like something to tweak--to keep an intentionality to counting syllables, but not the same intentionality of making them all equal.
ReplyDeleteThe hardest part was getting those end lines to work. The last two syllables to rhyme.
i love this zhoom ode (sonnet)
ReplyDeletethe consonance between topic (the zhoom - and i like the j too oo - jhoom) and form, divine perfection
enjoying the word jazz
opinionless tone-word-rhythm-mesh...floorward impelled ... room turned sanctuary...
vertebrae [juxtaposed with] rosary ropes
this last holds with me, reminds me of a vision a friend had in circle, the ancestors like ropes going from earth through us and up to the nightsky. tracing the chords of our larger tuning. we (our energies, our physical guitar bodies) are mandolin strings [or some larger instrument that makes a sound like the spinofearth] of gaia