Taking Shape

carmina figurata

by

Jan D. Hodge

A B L E M U S E P R E S S

Copyright ©2015 by Jan D. Hodge First published in 2015 by

Able Muse Presswww.ablemusepress.com All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles and reviews. Requests for permission should be addressed to the Able Muse Press editor at editor@ablemuse.com Printed in the United States of America

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015937385

ISBN 978-1-927409-56-5 (paperback) ISBN 978-1-927409-58-9 (hardcover) ISBN 978-1-927409-57-2 (digital) Cover image: “Egg Typed” by Alexander Pepple

Cover & book design by Alexander Pepple

Able Muse Press is an imprint of Able Muse: A Review of Poetry, Prose & Art—atwww.ablemuse.com Able Muse Press 467 Saratoga Avenue #602 San Jose, CA 95129

vi

Acknowledgments

“A Posy,” “Lament for the Maker,” “Madonna and Child”and “Toltec” first appeared in Able Muse,

“In Memory: John Bennett” inThe Beloit Poetry Journal, “Salamander” and “Laureate”

in Buckle &, “Hélène de Nervo de Montgerould” in North American Review, “Genesis” and

“The One That Got Away” in New Orleans Review,“Wheatstraw” in Black Bear Review, “Winner”

in Susquehanna Quarterly, “Icon” in New Trad Journal,“Sabbat” and “Veteran’s Day” in Frostwriting,

and “The Lesson of the Snow” in Off the Coast.

“Carousel” won the 1997 WordArt Esme Bradberry Prizeand appears in Western Wind (5th ed.), eds. David Mason and

John Frederick Nims (McGraw-Hill, 2006).Nine of these poems, several in different versions,

appeared in Poems to be Traded for Baklava(the Onionhead Annual chapbook for 1997).

“Pandanggo sa Ilaw” appeared in the essay “Taking Shape:the Art of Carmina Figurata,” in An Exaltation of Forms,

eds. Annie Finch and Kathrine Varnes (U. of Michigan Press, 2000).

vii

Preface

My serious interest in the carmen figuratum, or shaped poem, was kindled when I read Paul Fussell’s comments on George Herbert’s “Easter Wings” in his Poetic Meter and Poetic Form (rev. ed., New York, Random House, 1979):

Like most shaped poems it incurs one important artistic disadvantage: it makes an unbalanced sensual appeal—its structure directs itself more to the eye than to the ear. . . . The visual experience of the stanzas has triumphed inharmoniously over their auditory appeal . . . the two dimensions are not married: one is simply in command of the other. . . . The art of carmen figuratum is the province perhaps more of the typographer . . . than of the poet. It is in . . . the perfect harmony of . .  . visual and auditory logic at the same time that any poem achieves its triumphs.

One might of course argue that poetry is primarily an auditory experience, to which, in this art, a visual dimension is added. But that aside, Fussell also argues:

Perhaps the greatest limitation of shaped poems .  .  . is the scarcity of visual objects which they can imitate:  .  .  . wings, bottles, hourglasses, and altars, but where do we go from there?

Looking up from the text, I spotted a spiral candlestick and decided to write a poem in its shape to use as a Christmas card. In that poem,

A new light is born unto us Christmas was first the Child. How mild that face of grace. From the manger where He lay that night poured a radiance which rid the world of shade, good so profound dark was drowned in light! Bright angels sang His name and a new star blazed above and kings and shepherds came to that fountainhead of love. How gently He rested there in Mary’s fair arms gathered in that homely stable where the ox and ass were tethered. They saw such glory flowing as bathed the world in balm; they had no way of knowing what lay in store for Him, for nothing there betokened the nails tearing His flesh, those precious limbs broken, and He hanging on the Cross, and night falling in daylight, for His death robbed the very light of breath. But He became a child, and died, by right that we might share in everlasting light.

viii

highly conventional in both subject and style (rhymed, iambic, with deliberately broken rhythm and rhyme at the point of the Crucifixion), I was less strict with spacing than I would be in later poems.

A few years later, listening to a student’s piano recital, I was struck by the idea of writing a shaped poem about it. The search for other interesting, usable shapes led to two more poems in the fall of 1991—the sea horse and Columbus’s ships, the design for the latter coming from a newspaper advertisement. By then I was hooked, and committed myself to writing a series of carmina figurata.

I was familiar with a handful of shaped poems by others (Herbert’s “Easter Wings” and “The Altar,” several each by May Swenson and John Hollander, and a few others), but discovered Dick Higgins’s Pattern Poetry: Guide to an Unknown Literature (SUNY Press, 1987), which illustrates many varieties of pattern poetry, only after many of the poems in this collection were written. I had, however, already decided on the “rules” I would follow. I wanted shapes that were intrinsically interesting and particularly appropriate to their subjects, but also wanted the poems to work well as poems, using the language itself to create the shapes without varying spacing, compromising syntax for the sake of design, or resorting to typographical tricks. I also chose to write metrically; most of the figures are iambic, though Columbus’s ships and the Filipina dancer are anapestic, the salamander is a trochaic chant, and the first carousel horse is dactylic/anapestic.

Obviously line length and line breaks are determined by the shapes rather than more conventional prosodic concerns, but, keeping in mind Fussell’s observation about the difficulty of marrying the visual and auditory appeals, I have made few other concessions to the demands of shape. At the same time, those demands led to many possibilities and discoveries, and the interplay between form and idea was a constant source of both frustration and creative tension. I have chosen not to capitalize sentences or to punctuate (except for question marks and in a few other instances), trusting the words and the logic of language to speak for themselves. I have, however, provided brief notes on many of the poems.

My thanks to my father, who long ago taught me his interest in typography, and to those several reader-critics who have over the years encouraged my effort.

J. D. H.

Sioux City, IowaDecember 2014

ix

Contents

2 Genesis4 Recital6 Pandanggo sa Ilaw8 149210 Spring12 Carousel14 Madonna and Child16 Sabbat18 In Memory: John Bennett20 Veteran’s Day22 Epithalamion24 The One That Got Away26 Wheatstraw28 A Song for St. Pat’s30 Lament for the Maker32 Toltec34 Hélène de Nervo de Montgeroult36 Salamander38 A Posy40 The Lesson of the Snow42 Winner44 Sunday Bridge46 Terpsichore’s Darling48 Eye of God50 Icon52 Frazzled54 Designs—9/1156 Laureate58 Seconds60 Noël62 Carousel II: Legends

Taking Shape

2

Genesis

for Penny

Pondering Keats’s idea that “the imagination may be compared to Adam’s dream—he awoke and found it truth,” I imagined three versions of the origin of the sea horse, including a new “Greek” myth. With sea horses, the male bears the young.

3

what rare imagination shaped so intricate fantastic delicate a creature? from what dream emerged to startle sleep this miniature joy that floats his prances in a realm strange except in dream? did some benign immortal maker exercise her wit to prompt humility toward bearing young or teach the scoffers how delightful grace can be? or contrarily is there a darker story somepresumption that a jealous god resented? perchance a sailfish sought to match majesty with the golden steeds who chariot the sun across the sky and leaping tried to catch the sun annoyed by such an act the god decreed that fish that seek to rival steeds would live mere parodies of what they were or would be pride brought low but no we want romance imagine then one day a dizzy colt happy from the tang of ferment drinking in a rill beheld a glimpse of lively fishes in a bright quirky quivering reflection and from that dream was born the ideal marriage of sweet instinct and a vital innocent surprise

4

Recital

for Michelle McClure

The poem is informed by Copland’s piano fantasy “Cat and Mouse.” I have tried to capture the spirit of the piece in words, deliberately confusing syntax toward the end to imitate the hectic pace of the music. (Note too that the word “righthand” is the pianist’s right hand on the piano.)

5

harmonies disarming leisurely are hardly hints of what will softly soon explode as fingers deftly delicately play at cat and mouse the quick finesse and dazzling discipline trick chaos mimic instinct as it trips an ageold dance strike chords that find their echo deep within us each how we take delight in what for that poor mouse is terror still why think of him? all that matters is that he amuse the cat is playing lefthand tabby prancing after righthand scampers into meeklysqueaking hurry-scurries up down up till lefthand leaps at righthand bright and spritely teasing baiting chasing pause and in an instant swiftpaw falls and whispers all is whiskertwitch and quiver fluffand cuff a fit of frenzy rushinghushing as a cunning paw tips out a C F A a rapid D G one last B & silence #

6

Pandanggo sa Ilaw

“Pandanggo sa ilaw,” the “lamp dance,” is a Filipino folk dance in which the dancers balance lighted oil lamps on their hands. Tutubi is Tagalog (Filipino) for dragonfly; makahiya, the “shy plant,” folds up instantly when touched; sampagita, the national flower, has small cream blossoms and is often woven into garlands; magandang babae means beautiful woman. Rampa is an irrigation ditch; balut (hard-boiled duck egg) is a snack food peddled everywhere; the ulupong is a poisonous snake often found in the palayan (rice field); makisig means handsome [man]. In Tagalog, the vowels are pronounced as in the Romance languages: ah, ay, ee, owe, oo. Hence pahn-dahng-go sah ee-lahw; too-too-bee; mah-kah-hee-yah; sahm-pah-gee-tah; mah-gahn-dahng bah-bah-ee; rahm-pah; bah-loot; oo-loo-pong; pah-lah-yahn; mah-kee-sig.

the hands of the dancer the rays of the flame realize beauty as pure as the tutubi rising over the water and catching the moon on its cellophane wings stainless as rain on the palm trees of evening modest as shy makahiya fine as a tourmaline sky how she enchants us see how she glances aside as she weaves of two shining stars a cincture of firelight and fay a magical purlieu see how the goldenwhite ribbons of light hang in the air a garland of sweet sampagita to accent her grace magandang babae your dancing is like the play of the angel of light bless us with what you know the soul of art and the joy of it

these hands that harvest hemp and cane that dig the ditches and check therampa flow that inch the garish hip and silver jeepneys safe through raucous chaos feet that mediate precarious purchases on tumbling buses to balut! balut! balut! or risk the fatal kiss of ulupong mid dark palayan water jog under taxing loads more meet for shandrydans here find the perfect form in dance to celebrate a land prodigal of beauty rich in grace salute makisig this Elysian wonder honey-suckle lovely at your side raise your lamp to one deserving of a tribute far beyond our readiness to praise dance like a bird in air you bear the love of all of us for her