Experimental poetry 13: Breaking Structure

Variation in poetry? Yes please! Poetry doesn't always need to be beautiful, soothing or idyllic. Poetry can also be challenging, disturbing, grating, and even downright uncomfortable to read or listen to. Make your poem chaotic and you'll capture a lot of attention! 

How do you introduce variation into your poetry? Well, in previous posts in this series I have written about surprise end rhymes, anarchic poetry and random prompt poetry. Adding an unexpected element to your writing keeps people guessing and piques the interest. 

One of the great sins of poetry is to be predictable to the point of blandness. The key aim of all experimental poetry is to force you outside of your comfort zone and into uncharted territory. If you walk this pathway, no one will ever again be able to accuse you of being a boring poet!

Method 22: Assonant endings. Ditch the forced end rhyme! There's nothing worse than a poem that loses its credibility because the writer is forced into using words just for the sake of the rhyme! If you can't or won't break out of the shackles of the end rhyme, then try using assonance instead. Examples include love/enough and rise/tried. Here, only the vowel sound is consistent. Assonant endings will give you a greater variety of vocabulary to choose from. 

Method 23: Breaking the line. Write sentences that vary in length. Forget about tempo or rhythm. Let your words flow unobstructed across several lines. The sentence doesn't have to conclude at the end of a line. Bleed part of the sentence over into the next line. Then start another sentence on the same line. This is known as enjambment. Break up the sentence into punch sized smaller lines so that it cascades down the page. Spread the words out randomly across the page, with plenty of space between them. The options are multiple. 

Method 24: Breaking the structure. Take one of your previously written poems and examine it. What could you do to break up the structure? How could you change it by inserting line breaks, adding unconventional grammar, inserting strange punctuation, or unexpected words to jar or surprise your reader? Maybe a strange, repeated refrain will create intrigue... your variation is only limited by your imagination!

Steve Wheeler 

Previous posts in this series

Experimental Poetry 1: Found Poetry
Experimental Poetry 2: Stream of Consciousness
Experimental Poetry 3: Fake Translations
Experimental Poetry 4: Overlapping Voices
Experimental Poetry 5: Random Prompts
Experimental Poetry 6: The Movie Method
Experimental Poetry 7: Unexpected End Rhymes
Experimental Poetry 8: Calligrams
Experimental Poetry 9: Anarchic Poetry
Experimental Poetry 10: Timed Writing
Experimental Poetry 11: Paraphrasing
Experimental Poetry 12: Deliberate Malapropism

Image from Wikimedia Commons

Experimental Poetry 12: Deliberate Malapropism

A malapropism is an error in speech or text where a similar sounding word mistakenly replaces the correct word. There are numerous examples. Have you ever been taken for granite? 

The term malapropism derives from Mrs. Malaprop, a comic character who appears in the 1775 play The Rivals, by Richard Sheridan. She is constantly prone to using the wrong words in her conversation. She mixes up allegory with alligator, and illiterate with obliterate.  However, there are plenty of earlier incidences of comic word mangling in literature, including several found in the work of William  Shakespeare. 

Modern day malapropism can be hilarious... did you know that medieval cathedrals were supported by flying buttocks? Or that the fun we have in childhood is incomparable to the fun of adultery? 

Here's a recent poem posted in Invisible Poets. The poem is I am a Warrior by Chiledu Ohagi, and this is the first stanza...

I wedge a war against my feelings
pulling down strongholds
breaking the chains of depression
My pages, my battleground
My pen, my mighty weapon
and my ink's my ammunition

It's a very good poem, but it contains a small typographical error. I wedge war should be I wage war. The error was pointed out by another member, but when you think about it, wedging war certainly sounds surreally poetic. It's on a par with writing that you'll skew for peace, or astounding the alarm. I don't think he should correct it.

Method 20: Deliberate Malapropism. This got me thinking... how surreal and experimental can you get by using deliberate malapropisms? The trick is to make the error obvious, and create a phonetic switch. Wedge sounds like wage, just as skew sounds like sue, and as astounding sounds like sounding. These are instantly recognisable as phonetic switches, because the phrases are familiar. 

Waging war is a commonly used phrase. Wedging war is not. How do you wedge a war? It's a jarring word to use, and that makes it interesting, manifesting all sorts of images. Wedging is more poetically inventive than waging. How do you skew peace? Can you astound an alarm? Again, the text suddenly becomes a little more intriguing, because the meaning now needs to be sought out. 

Method 21: Reiterative Malapropism. What words can you use that are homophones (sound like another word) or similarly sounding, but with a distinctly different meaning? Can you strengthen your existing poems by changing words with other words that sound similar, or pun-like, and enhance the meaning of the poem?

If you deliberately use phonetic errors such as malapropisms in your poetry, you're bound to attract some attention. Just be prepared to correct the correctors when they scrawl out from under their woks to point out your 'era'.

Steve Wheeler 

Previous posts in this series

Experimental Poetry 1: Found Poetry
Experimental Poetry 2: Stream of Consciousness
Experimental Poetry 3: Fake Translations
Experimental Poetry 4: Overlapping Voices
Experimental Poetry 5: Random Prompts
Experimental Poetry 6: The Movie Method
Experimental Poetry 7: Unexpected End Rhymes
Experimental Poetry 8: Calligrams
Experimental Poetry 9: Anarchic Poetry
Experimental Poetry 10: Timed Writing
Experimental Poetry 11: Paraphrasing

Image from Wikimedia Commons

Experimental Poetry 11: Paraphrasing

A paraphrase or rephrase is where you re-write a text using different words without losing the meaning of the original text itself. It's an experimental technique poets can use to infuse a deeper level of creativity into their previously written words. It's a rich form of reiteration. In jazz music, especially the more experimental forms, you may never hear the same phrase played twice. This is because the musicians understand that within the tempo and root chords, just about anything is possible. It's the same with poetry, except there are even less constraints than in jazz! That should tell you just how free and creative you can be in your writing.

Method 19: Try this: Go back to one of your previously written poems and examine it. Are there words or phrases you could improve upon? Are there lines that could benefit from a make-over? Let me give you some examples of poetry that would not have been as impressive if it hadn't been developed by the writer...

There is a classic poem called Mandalay, by English poet Rudyard Kipling. It's a fabulous, entertaining poem containing many inventive lines... one that stands out for me is '...an' the dawn comes up like thunder....' He could easily have written '...and the sun rises in a spectacular way...' but it would not have been as effective. 

Another more recent classic by Welsh poet Dylan Thomas has the first line 'Do not go gentle into that good night...' Again, it would be simpler to say 'Do not fade slowly in death...' but this wouldn't have been as poetic. 

Are there words or phrases in your old poems that could do with a make-over? I know there are in many of mine! 

Steve Wheeler

Previous posts in this series

Experimental Poetry 1: Found Poetry
Experimental Poetry 2: Stream of Consciousness
Experimental Poetry 3: Fake Translations
Experimental Poetry 4: Overlapping Voices
Experimental Poetry 5: Random Prompts
Experimental Poetry 6: The Movie Method
Experimental Poetry 7: Unexpected End Rhymes
Experimental Poetry 8: Calligrams
Experimental Poetry 9: Anarchic Poetry
Experimental Poetry 10: Timed Writing

Image from pxhere used under a Creative Commons licence

Experimental Poetry 10: Timed Writing

There has been an increase in interest in the experimental poetry series that I began recently, and so, after a hiatus, I am back again with some more ideas about how to jump-start your poetry writing. All the previous posts in the experimental poetry series are linked below. Click on the links and they will take you to the posts in question. 

I have heard it said by some of my poetry friends that setting a time limit on the writing of a poem can wonderfully focus the mind. One of our published Wheelsong authors swears that if he hasn't finished a poem by the time 15 minutes has elapsed, he dumps it and moves on. A little severe perhaps, but the method works for him! Now, this may create some pressure on you, or you may feel a little stressed because you have set yourself a time limit. A sense of urgency can often bring out creativity in poets, but it may just as easily stifle creativity. You probably won't know until you try it, but timed writing not for the faint-hearted. 

Method 18: If you want to try this technique out, my advice would be to have a title or a theme in mind before you start. Set a timer to go off at a time of your choice. Begin writing, and keep writing until the timer goes off. At this point, you might wish to go off and spend some time doing something else. When you return, a few hours or even a day or two later, take a look at what you have written. It may make little or no sense, or it may be a fully formed poem! Usually it's something in between, and you may have fragments that can be transformed into two or more poems. 

Steve Wheeler

Previous posts in this series

Experimental Poetry 1: Found Poetry
Experimental Poetry 2: Stream of Consciousness
Experimental Poetry 3: Fake Translations
Experimental Poetry 4: Overlapping Voices
Experimental Poetry 5: Random Prompts
Experimental Poetry 6: The Movie Method
Experimental Poetry 7: Unexpected End Rhymes
Experimental Poetry 8: Calligrams
Experimental Poetry 9: Anarchic Poetry

Image by Garry Knight on Flickr

Experimental Poetry 9: Anarchic poetry

You want anarchy? You got it! Anarchy is a state of disorder caused by rejection of rules and authority. It is the basis of a number of art movements including Abstract impressionism, Surrealism, Dadaism and punk rock. Poetry too has its anarchic poets. Read for example Ezra Pound, James Joyce or e. e. cummings. The latter rejected the use of upper case letters, hence the alternative presentation of his name. Edward Estlin Cummings as I will present him, experimented mercilessly not only with words, but also the form in which they were presented. He even misused punctuation deliberately to create feelings of disorientation, fragmentation and unease. In short, cummings used just about every aspect of language to create atmosphere and hammer home his messages. 

Method 15: Syntactic Deviance. Here, there is a total lack of regard for the conventional. You really will need to step outside your comfort zone, and this is where most of you will give up. And yet, if you do pursue this avenue of experimentation, you'll discover new ways of presenting your art of poetry which might otherwise have passed you by. Forget all the rules of grammar and punctuation. Spell things differently. Create sentences without verbs. Turn the writing upside down. Write diagonally or in reverse. Be absurd in what you write. Everything and anything goes. 

For me, this is one of Cummings' best poems: It dwells on loneliness and has the metaphor (a leaf falling) inside the word loneliness. It is inventive, disruptive and unexpected. In short, it is anarchic poetry. It breaks all the rules, including fragmentation of the words to signify a slow falling of the leaf. 

Method 16: Morphological Innovation. This is where you might dispense with conventional words and create your own. You might like to take a word and extend it to convey a meaning. Delicious becomes un-delicious, or chocolate becomes chocolate-ness. Go even further and blend words together to make new ones, or neologisms. A rabbit's burrow becomes its rabbitat and agonising over the loss of your luggage becomes bagonising. Be inventive. There are no rules, and you'll create your own language of poetry! These new words are known as portmanteaus and they are a part of morphological innovation. 

Method 17: Ad Nauseum. This Latin phrase means 'until sick'. This is the point in your poetry where you can go completely out on a limb and do totally unpredictable stuff. And then do it again, and again, and again, until it sickens, and then keep doing it until you run out of paper. 

Steve Wheeler

Previous posts in this series

Experimental Poetry 1: Found Poetry
Experimental Poetry 2: Stream of Consciousness
Experimental Poetry 3: Fake Translations
Experimental Poetry 4: Overlapping Voices
Experimental Poetry 5: Random Prompts
Experimental Poetry 6: The Movie Method
Experimental Poetry 7: Unexpected End Rhymes
Experimental Poetry 8: Calligrams

Image from Wikimedia used under a Creative Commons licence.

Experimental Poetry 8: Calligrams

Calligrams - also known as concrete poetry- are  pieces of text where the design or layout of the letters creates a visual image related to the meaning of the words themselves. The calligram above is by French poet Guillaume Apolinnaire and it's one of the best examples. He has used words such as bouche (for the mouth) and nez (for nose) as he describes his lover.

Concrete poetry is not easy to accomplish, but if you are determined, you will able to create something that is not only an interesting poem, but also a visually appealing piece of art. Here's how it's done:

Method 13: Concrete Poetry. All calligrams start with an idea. Think of something simple... like a cup, a heart or a star. Their shapes are idealised, and have a cultural resonance. They are all easily recognisable. 

Now write a poem about the object you've chosen. It needn't necessarily rhyme. You just need enough words to be able to create your calligram. If you create your calligram using a word processor, you'll be able to change the size of the text, the spacing, and even the font style very quickly. However, until you make it concrete, by either screen capturing it, or exporting it into a pdf file, you can't be certain what it will look like if you share it on social media.

Here's an example called Swan and Shadow by John Hollander, which depicts in words and image exactly what he wishes to convey about the grace of a swan floating on its mirror image in calm water at dawn. 

Method 14: Hand-made Calligrams. An alternative is to create it by drawing it on paper, or even by cutting out text and pasting it onto paper. Start by creating a pencil outline, and then gradually filling in the shape with the words, using a more permanent medium. It will take time, trial and error, and lots of corrections. But eventually, you'll have your own calligram and you'll be justifiably proud of what you've achieved. But do be careful. Calligrams are very addictive.

Steve Wheeler 

Previous posts in this series

Experimental Poetry 1: Found Poetry
Experimental Poetry 2: Stream of Consciousness
Experimental Poetry 3: Fake Translations
Experimental Poetry 4: Overlapping Voices
Experimental Poetry 5: Random Prompts
Experimental Poetry 6: The Movie Method
Experimental Poetry 7: Unexpected End Rhymes

Top image from Wikimedia Commons, Swan image from Pinterest used under a Creative Commons licence.

Experimental Poetry 7: Unexpected End Rhymes

For me, poetry is the art of constructing sentences and stanzas in a novel and entirely unexpected way. That means surprising readers with strange confections of words, and avoiding the predictable. One of the most predictable facets of sub-par poetry is the end rhyme. Badly thought-out, lazy or forced rhymes in poetry detract from the message, musicality or aesthetics of the piece. And there are so many bad rhyming poems! If you're intent on using end rhymes, then at least make them unusual, unpredictable, comic or perhaps even shocking. 

Method 12: Unexpected End Rhymes. One of the stanzas in a comic poem I wrote many years ago goes like this:

Got to write a poem and I got to write it soon
They've given me from now until the end of September

Yes, it's jarring, but it always raises a laugh from my audiences when I perform it live, because everyone expects me to say June. Comedy is often about the unexpected. And comedy has its place in poetry, especially the performance genre.

Even more absurd is another stanza toward the end of the poem:

I wandered lonely as a cloud amongst the forest glades and jungles
And all at once I came upon a host of golden ... daffodungles

I'm depicting the struggles of the poet as he tries to force an end rhyme. Poetry shouldn't be about forcing end rhymes and in the process losing the meaning or the message of the poem. Too many poets seem to think (especially when they are new to the scene) that all poetry must rhyme. It doesn't, and the worst kind of poetry is poetry where the rhyme has been forced or contrived. In the above poem I'm making fun of this approach, and saying - look, if you're going to rhyme, make it meaningful, and if you can't achieve that, make it shocking, unexpected, comic instead. 

Steve Wheeler

Previous posts in this series

Experimental Poetry 1: Found Poetry
Experimental Poetry 2: Stream of Consciousness
Experimental Poetry 3: Fake Translations
Experimental Poetry 4: Overlapping Voices
Experimental Poetry 5: Random Prompts
Experimental Poetry 6: The Movie Method

Photo from Flickr used with a Creative Commons licence

Experimental Poetry 6: The Movie Method

Some of my poetry is considered surreal and dreamlike. I've even published some of my more bizarre dreamscape style poems. Some appear in the collection Nocturne, which is a night-inspired panorama of dream-state poetry. But some of those dream-like poems were not actually inspired by dreams. They were inspired by random sampling of sounds and images while I was very much awake and listening to conversations, or in the case below, watching a movie.

Here's a brief section of my poem Strange Things Happen When You're Dreaming:

The cracks form into crevices like canyons drawn with crayons. The scorched mud coalesces into quintessential islands. Down from the highlands bitter winds are blowing in their surges, as they whistle into sand filled ears that nothing ever purges. You run, but shadows follow you, descending and ascending ... they lengthen ... as the sun goes down you see the light is bending, and you fly so high, so very high o’er land without a sound to keep your fearful feet a-running over barren desert ground, and in the distance, you can hear a thousand voices screaming: and everyone will tell you strange things happen when you’re dreaming.

The technique works like this:

Method 11: Movie Sampling. Choose any movie you like. Play two or three simultaneously if you wish. Begin to write, and as you do, randomly listen to the dialogue or glance up at the sequences of images and try to capture them. You won't have much time, so do it quickly because the scene or dialogue will rapidly change. As with much of the text you generate with a random writing method, you'll get a lot of seemingly unintelligible sentences or phrases. It really doesn't matter. Leave it for a while, and then return to it. Read it to see what emerges. With the poem above, I scribbled down many random ideas from watching the movie in real time, and then returned days later to transform it into some form or rhythmic narrative, with the internal rhymes added.

Steve Wheeler 

Images from Rawpixel used under a Creative Commons licence

Previous posts in this series:

Experimental Poetry 1: Found Poetry
Experimental Poetry 2: Stream of Consciousness
Experimental Poetry 3: Fake Translations
Experimental Poetry 4: Overlapping Voices
Experimental Poetry 5: Random Prompts

Experimental Poetry 5: Random Prompts

Poets are always looking for inspiration for their writing. Sometimes, an idea, or phrase or picture will jump onto your head. It's easy to write a poem from that kind of inspiration. At other times, the old writer's block sets in and you struggle to find that great idea for your next poem. It's then you might need to force it a little. Here are three more methods:

Method 9: Random Words. There are lots of free to use Random Word generators online such as this one and this one. Select one and use it to create a list of random, unrelated words. Any one (or all) of those words might be the one(s) that prompts your next masterpiece.

Method 10: Random Images. It's easy to find random images. You'll find them in magazines and coffee table books, and many poetry groups routinely post photo prompts. You'll also find them all over the web. Go to Google or another search engine and type in Random Image. Up will pop at least 4 unrelated images, and at least one should inspire you to write poetry.

Method 11: Reverse Images. This time, once the have the images in front of you, write instead about the opposite, the reverse of the image or the idea it represents. Think about that object, person or idea in a strange or surreal alternative context, where it couldn't possibly comfortably exist. If you see hate, write about love. If you see peace, write about conflict.

We'll explore more experimental poetry methods next time. Keep writing!

Steve Wheeler 

Image from Flickr used under a Creative Commons licence

Previous posts in this series:

Experimental Poetry 1: Found Poetry
Experimental Poetry 2: Stream of Consciousness
Experimental Poetry 3: Fake Translations
Experimental Poetry 4: Overlapping Voices

Experimental Poetry 4: Overlapping Voices

Many poets get into a rut at some point in their lives, and begin to churn out the same old stuff, time after time. You know how it goes... You try to take a different route, but end up reverting to the same old beaten track you've been down so often. You want to write something unique, different, but it ends up just like all your other poetry. It can be very frustrating. How about doing something extraordinarily different to write your poems? Are you up for the challenge? Then read on...

Method 8: Overlapping Voices. Have you ever been at a party, a shopping mall or other social gathering where you stand there and try to listen to all the voices talking simultaneously? This cacophony of sound feels like a waterfall of noise - a sonic wallpaper - and its usual to consign it to the background and focus on your own conversation as you block it out. But what if you listened more closely and tried to discern the things people were discussing all around you? 

Now imagine trying to capture all those words on paper. Transcribing at this level is utterly impossible, but that's the point... If you want some new ideas or lines for your poetry, listen to what's going on around you and try to grab the words. The voices will overlap, the topics will be diverse and the noise will be difficult to penetrate. It will be an absolute mess, but from out of that chaos comes order!  

Another less conspicuous way of doing the same thing is to record the multiple conversations from a party or a visit to your local coffee shop, or listen to several recordings simultaneously (e.g. Radio or TV news) and try to grab the words you hear from the hubbub of voices. The idea behind this method is that you either hear words or phrases you can capture, or you will imagine you hear those words. Either way, it doesn't matter because you'll be creating a new piece, regardless. 

Steve Wheeler

Image from Flickr used under a Creative Commons Licence

Previous posts in this series:

Experimental Poetry 1: Found Poetry
Experimental Poetry 2: Stream of Consciousness
Experimental Poetry 3: Fake Translations