I will put Chaos into fourteen lines -- Edna St Vincent Millay

Guest poem submitted by Vivian Eden:

(Poem #905) I will put Chaos into fourteen lines I will put Chaos into fourteen lines And keep him there; and let him thence escape If he be lucky; let him twist, and ape Flood, fire, and demon --- his adroit designs Will strain to nothing in the strict confines Of this sweet order, where, in pious rape, I hold his essence and amorphous shape, Till he with Order mingles and combines. Past are the hours, the years of our duress, His arrogance, our awful servitude: I have him. He is nothing more nor less Than something simple not yet understood; I shall not even force him to confess; Or answer. I will only make him good. -- Edna St Vincent Millay

Recently you put out a call for named verse forms. This sonnet has it all -
a poem about poetry, about closed forms, about chaos and order of course,
about Eros, about women and men in general ("I will only make him good"),
about the poet's power and control, about self-knowledge, about art,
mysticism ("something simple not yet understood"), religion and what goes
into the willing acceptance of any restrictions in art and life. It is also
perfectly crafted and self-ironic. In short, a tour de force.

Vivian.

[Minstrels Links]

Edto St. Vincent Millay:
Poem #34, First Fig
Poem #49, The Unexplorer
Poem #108, The Penitent
Poem #317, Inland
Poem #590, Sonnet XLIII
Poem #604, Euclid Alone Has Looked On Beauty Bare
Poem #817, Grown-up
Poem #860, Sonnet: Love Is Not All

The Shrinking Lonesome Sestina -- Miller Williams

(Poem #904) The Shrinking Lonesome Sestina Somewhere in everyone's head something points toward home, a dashboard's floating compass, turning all the time to keep from turning. It doesn't matter how we come to be wherever we are, someplace where nothing goes the way it went once, where nothing holds fast to where it belongs, or what you've risen or fallen to. What the bubble always points to, whether we notice it or not, is home. It may be true that if you move fast everything fades away, that given time and noise enough, every memory goes into the blackness, and if new ones come- small, mole-like memories that come to live in the furry dark-they, too, curl up and die. But Carol goes to high school now. John works at home what days he can to spend some time with Sue and the kids. He drives too fast. Ellen won't eat her breakfast. Your sister was going to come but didn't have the time. Some mornings at one or two or three I want you home a lot, but then it goes. It all goes. Hold on fast to thoughts of home when they come. They're going to less with time. Time goes too fast. Come home. Forgive me that. One time it wasn't fast. A myth goes that when the years come then you will, too. Me, I'll still be home. -- Miller Williams

[Note on form]

Sestina: an elaborate verse form employed by medieval Provençal and Italian,
and occasional modern, poets. It consists, in its pure medieval form, of six
stanzas of blank verse, each of six lines -- hence the name. The final words
of the first stanza appear in varied order in the other five, the order used
by the Provençals being: abcdef, faebdc, cfdabe, ecbfad, deacfb, bdfeca.
Following these was a stanza of three lines, in which the six key words were
repeated in the middle and at the end of the lines, summarizing the poem or
dedicating it to some person.

The sestina was invented by the Provençal troubadour Arnaut Daniel and was
used in Italy by Dante and Petrarch, after which it fell into disuse until
revived by the 16th-century French Pléiade, particularly Pontus de Tyard. In
the 19th century, Ferdinand, comte de Gramont, wrote a large number of
sestinas, and Algernon Charles Swinburne's "Complaint of Lisa" is an
astonishing tour de force-a double sestina of 12 stanzas of 12 lines each.
In the 20th century, Ezra Pound, T. S. Eliot, and W. H.  Auden wrote
noteworthy sestinas.

        -- EB

[Commentary by Thomas]

The danger with sestinas, of course, is that they can easily become
repetitive and dull: no matter how far afield the poet roams, he is
compelled to return to one of the six words with which his lines end. It
goes without saying, then, that the choice of these six words dictates not
just the form, but also the content of the poem; they are like the
scaffolding around which the poet (more architect than artisan) piles up the
bricks and mortar of individual lines of verse.

Miller Williams handles his architecture adroitly. His six words -- home,
time, come, goes, fast, to -- are simple enough to feel natural and unforced
wherever they occur; at the same time, they are evocative enough to give the
poem a depth beyond mere nostalgia.

[Commentary by Martin]

The sestina, as Thomas has pointed out, can be a rather restrictive verse
form; while six fixed words per stanza may not seem like too much of a
constraint, the fact is that line endings have a disproportionately large
effect on a poem, even when (as in the case of most[1] sestinas), the poem
is unrhymed.

As with villanelles, one way to counteract the monotony of the repeated
words is to play with the form. Techniques include using words that can be
cast into various parts of speech, relaxing slightly the 'exact word'
restriction (to/too in today's poem, for instance), and, as Williams has
done here, playing with the line lengths to add variation to the stanzas.

Note, though, that this is not merely idle wordplay superposed on the form.
The shrinking lines are an integral part of the poem, mirroring the
lessening spate of memories
   to thoughts of home
   when they come.
   They're going to
   less with time.
and building up to the startlingly unexpected monosyllabic verse, 'Time goes
too fast. Come home.'. Watching the message emerge, like a rabbit out of a
hat or, perhaps, like a three dimensional image springing into life from a
random sea of dots, is nothing short of magical, and adds greatly to the
impact of the poem.

[1] a counterexample is Swinburne's "The Complaint of Lisa", a rhyming
double sestina to which the only applicable phrase is 'tour de force'.

[Links]

Here be a nice link: http://www.writer2001.com/sestform.htm

"The Complaint of Lisa":
http://www.library.utoronto.ca/utel/rp/poems/swinburn18.html

Reading the poem, I (Martin, that is) kept getting echoes of MacNeice's
"When all is told, we cannot beg for pardon" (from 'The Sunlight on the
Garden'); it makes a nice companion piece to today's poem. poem #757

[On the theme]

This week we're going to examine some inhabitants of the menagerie of named
verse forms: familiar creatures such as the sonnet, the haiku, the
villanelle and the limerick, and more curious beasts such as the sestina,
the triolet and the pantoum. If you have any suggestions for these (or for
any other named verse form), do write in.

Leviathan -- Anonymous

One final monster, from the biblical Book of Job:

(Poem #903) Leviathan Can you draw out Leviathan with a fishhook, or press down his tongue with a cord? Can you put a rope in his nose, or pierce his jaw with a hook? Will he make many supplications to you? Will he speak to you soft words? Will he make a covenant with you to take him for your servant for ever? Will you play with him as with a bird, or will you put him on leash for your maidens? Will traders bargain over him? Will they divide him up among the merchants? Can you fill his skin with harpoons, or his head with fishing spears? Lay hands on him; think of the battle; you will not do it again! Behold, the hope of a man is disappointed; he is laid low even at the sight of him. No one is so fierce that he dares to stir him up... ... Who can strip off his outer garment? Who can penetrate his double coat of mail? Who can open the doors of his face? Round about his teeth is terror. His back is made of rows of shields, shut up closely as with a seal. One is so near to another that no air can come between them. They are joined one to another; they clasp each other and cannot be separated. His sneezings flash forth light, and his eyes are like the eyelids of the dawn. Out of his mouth go flaming torches; sparks of fire leap forth. Out of his nostrils comes forth smoke, as from a boiling pot and burning rushes. His breath kindles coals, and a flame comes forth from his mouth. In his neck abides strength, and terror dances before him. The folds of his flesh cleave together, firmly cast upon him and immovable. His heart is hard as a stone, hard as the nether millstone. When he raises himself up the mighty are afraid; at the crashing they are beside themselves. Though the sword reaches him, it does not avail; nor the spear, the dart, or the javelin. He counts iron as straw, and bronze as rotten wood. The arrow cannot make him flee; for him slingstones are turned to stubble. Clubs are counted as stubble; he laughs at the rattle of javelins. His underparts are like sharp potsherds; he spreads himself like a threshing sledge on the mire. He makes the deep boil like a pot; he makes the sea like a pot of ointment. Behind him he leaves a shining wake; one would think the deep to be hoary. Upon earth there is not his like, a creature without fear. He beholds everything that is high; he is king over all the sons of pride. -- Anonymous

 From the Bible, The Book of Job, chapter 41.

 Leviathan is, of course, the canonical monster, the "dragon in the sea"
that haunted the imagination of the Hebrew poets and seers who wrote the Old
Testament, and the clerics who translated it into Greek, Latin and English.
The descriptions of his strength and size are vastly, immensely hyperbolic,
yet that is precisely the intention of their compositors: Leviathan himself
is beyond imagining.

[The OED on Leviathan]

leviathan (lI"vaI@T@n). Forms: 4-6 levyathan, (4 -ethan), 5 lyvyatan, -on,
5- leviathan. [a. L. (Vulg.) leviathan, a. Heb. livyathan.
   Some scholars refer the word to a root lavah = Arab. laway to twist (cf.
livyah, conjecturally rendered 'wreath'); others think it adopted from some
foreign lang.]
   1. The name of some aquatic animal (real or imaginary) of enormous size,
frequently mentioned in Hebrew poetry.
   1382 Wyclif Job xl[i.] 20 [21] Whether maist thou drawen out leuyethan
with an hoc? 1535 Coverdale Ps. ciii[i.] 26 There is that Leuiathan, whom
thou hast made, to take his pastyme therin. 1555 Eden Decades To Rdr. (Arb.)
51 The greate serpente of the sea Leuiathan, to haue suche dominion in the
Ocean. 1591 Spenser Vis. World's Van. 62 The huge Leuiathan, dame Natures
wonder. 1667 Milton P.L. vii. 412 Leviathan, Hugest of living Creatures, on
the Deep Stretcht like a Promontorie. 1713 Young Last Day i. 35 Leviathans
but heave their cumb'rous mail, It makes a tide. 1725 Pope Odyss. xii. 119
She [Scylla] makes the huge leviathan her prey.
   2. (After Isa. xxvii. 1.)  The great enemy of God, Satan. Obs.
   [1382 Wyclif Isa. xxvii. 1 In that dai viseten shal the Lord in his harde
swerd,..vp on leuyathan,..a crookid wounde serpent.] c1400 Destr. Troy 4423
This fende was the first that felle for his pride..that lyuyaton is cald.
1412-20 Lydg. Chron. Troy ii. xvii, The vile serpent the Leuiathan. 1447 O.
Bokenham Seyntys (Roxb.) 150 By the envye deceyvyd of hys enmy Clepyd
serpent behemot or levyathan. 1595 B. Barnes Spir. Sonn. li, Breake thou the
jawes of olde Levyathan, Victorious Conqueror!
   3. Used by Hobbes for: The organism of political society, the
commonwealth.  (See quot. 1651.)
   1651 Hobbes Leviath. (1839) 158 The multitude so united in one person, is
called a Commonwealth... This is the generation of that great Leviathan, or
rather, to speak more reverently, of that mortal god, to which we owe under
the immortal God, our peace and defence. 1657 R. Ligon Barbadoes 20 What it
is that makes up..harmony in that Leviathan, a well governed Commonwealth.
1690 Locke Hum. Und. i. iii. (1695) 17 An Hobbist..will answer; Because..the
Leviathan will punish you, if you do not. 1714 Mandeville Fab. Bees (1725)
I. 195 The gods have..design'd that millions of you, when well joyn'd
together, should compose the strong Leviathan.
   4. attrib. passing into adj. when sense: Huge, monstrous.
   1624 Middleton Game at Chess ii. ii, This leviathan-scandal that lies
rolling Upon the crystal waters of devotion. 1751 H. Walpole Lett. (1846)
II. 398, I had suspected that this leviathan hall must have devoured half
the other chambers. 1861 A. Smith Med. Stud. 12 He has duly chronicled every
word..in his leviathan note-book. 1892 W. Beatty-Kingston Intemper. v. 32
The leviathan liquor interests
   Hence leviathanic a., huge as a leviathan.
   1848 Tait's Mag. XV. 789 The leviathanic railway that stretches out its
fins amongst its contemporaries like Captain McQuhae's sea-serpent.

        -- Oxford English Dictionary

[Other biblical references]

"Yet God my King is from of old, working salvation in the midst of the
earth.
 Thou didst divide the sea by thy might; thou didst break the heads of the
dragons on the waters.
 Thou didst crush the heads of Leviathan, thou didst give him as food for
the creatures of the wilderness."
        -- Psalm 74

 "O Lord, how manifold are thy works! In wisdom hast thou made them all; the
earth is full of thy creatures.
 Yonder is the sea, great and wide, which teems with things innumerable,
living things both small and great.
 There go the ships, and Leviathan which thou didst form to sport in it."
        -- Psalm 104

 "In that day the Lord with his hard and great and strong sword will punish
Leviathan the fleeing serpent, Leviathan the twisting serpent, and he will
slay the dragon that is in the sea."
        -- Isaiah 27

(all biblical quotations are from the revised standard version, which is
available online at (for instance) http://www.hti.umich.edu/r/rsv/)

[Moreover]

As mentioned in the OED entry above, "Leviathan" is also the title of a
famous political treatise by Thomas Hobbes. In it, Hobbes argues that
mankind's natural state (not to be confused with that of Rousseau's "noble
savage") is one of conflict; life is "nasty, brutish and short". In order to
rise out of the morass, it becomes necessary to sacrifice individual
liberties for the sake of "the common wealth". This monster he calls
"Leviathan" - a being that is greater than any one man. Hobbes than goes on
to argue that Leviathan's power is properly concentrated in the person of
the sovereign, who has a "divine right" to rule.

An excellent set of excerpts at
http://campus.northpark.edu/history/Classes/Sources/Hobbes.html serves to
summarize Hobbes' arguments, which I have only glanced upon above.

John Locke refined Hobbes' arguments a generation later in his "Two
Treatises on Government"; however, his liberal and humanistic view rejects
the "divine right of kings" on the grounds that there is no appealing the
sovereign's decisions; the common wealth is a contract that one cannot opt
out of, and is hence unsatisfactory. The following websites compare and
contrast the two systems:
 [broken link] http://www-philosophy.ucdavis.edu/phi001/hobbelec.htm
 [broken link] http://members.dca.net/rbilson/hoblock.htm
 [broken link] http://www.geocities.com/Athens/7011/hobbes.html
Recommended, if you're at all interested in this sort of thing.

[Minstrels Links]

A previous extract from the Book of Job:
poem #40

Monsters:
Poem #52, Jabberwocky  -- Lewis Carroll
Poem #215, The Loch Ness Monster's Song  -- Edwin Morgan
Poem #370, Troll sat alone on his seat of stone  -- J. R. R. Tolkien
Poem #775, The Maldive Shark -- Herman Melville
Poem #895, August 1968 -- W. H. Auden
Poem #896, The Kraken -- Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Poem #897, Grendel -- Anon. (Old English, pre-10th century)
Poem #899, The Diatonic Dittymunch -- Jack Prelutsky

The Book of Pilgrimage, II, 22 -- Rainer Maria Rilke

Guest poem submitted by Swarna Sharma:

(Poem #902) The Book of Pilgrimage, II, 22 You are the future, the red sky before sunrise over the fields of time. You are the cock's crow when night is done, You are the dew and the bells of matins, maiden, stranger, mother, death. You create yourself in ever-changing shapes that rise from the stuff of our days -- unsung, unmourned, undescribed, like a forest we never knew. You are the deep innerness of all things, the last word that can never be spoken. To each of us you reveal yourself differently: to the ship as coastline, to the shore as a ship. -- Rainer Maria Rilke

Translated from the German by Anita Barrows.

This poem is from 'The Book of Pilgrimage', the middle section of the Book
of Hours, the first being 'The Book of a Monastic Life' and the third being
'The Book of Poverty and Death'. The resonance and lucid imagery of the
German original has not been lost in this English translation by Anita
Barrows. The subtitle to the Book of Hours is : Love poems to God. This
particular poem also reflects the intimate conversation that Rilke has with
the universal consciousness and the longing he has for an unmediated
conversation with the heart of the Universe. The images of God are drawn
from nature but the questing spirit of Rilke rests in the recognition of the
immanence of divine effusion, that includes all polarities and dualities and
at the same time transcends them. One can readily witness the concept of
inter-being, the sacred interrelatedness of all creation that is so central
to Buddhism. When Rilke uses images to describe the imageless, he writes as
a mystic who celebrates "the deep innerness of all things". In this Rilke
belongs in the same league as Whitman and Hopkins.

Swarna.

[Minstrels Links]

Rainer Maria Rilke:
Poem #136, The Panther
Poem #861, Spanish Dancer

Walt Whitman:
Poem #54, When I heard the Learn'd Astronomer
Poem #157, O Captain! My Captain!
Poem #246, I Hear America Singing
Poem #268, The Dalliance of the Eagles
Poem #445, A Noiseless Patient Spider
Poem #498, The World Below the Brine
Poem #508, I saw in Louisiana a Live-Oak Growing
Poem #887, Beat! Beat! Drums!

Gerard Manley Hopkins:
Poem #3, Inversnaid
Poem #35, The Windhover
Poem #59, To a Young Child
Poem #134, Pied Beauty
Poem #260, Moonrise
Poem #606, God's Grandeur
Poem #870, No worst, there is none

oh yes -- Charles Bukowski

Guest poem submitted by Aravind Inumpudi:

(Poem #901) oh yes there are worse things than being alone but it often takes decades to realize this and most often when you do it's too late and there's nothing worse than too late. -- Charles Bukowski

For me, Bukowski's poetry came from the "other side of TV" - daring to
explore in mundane terms, events and lives which are otherwise conveniently
overlooked or sugar-coated with enough abstraction. This poem with its
delicious recursive aspect seems to emulate to perfection this very aspect
of Bukowski's work.

Arvind.

[Biography]

Charles Bukowski was born in Andernach, Germany on August 16, 1920 and came
with his family to the United States when he was three years old. He grew up
in poverty in Los Angeles, drifted extensively, and for much of his life
made his home in San Pedro. Bukowski had been a writer since childhood,
published his first story at age twenty four, and began publishing poetry
when he was thirty-five.

Bukowski is generally considered to be an honorary "beat writer", although
he was never actually associated with Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg, and the
other bona fide beats. His style, which exhibits a strong sense of immediacy
and a refusal to embrace standard formal structure, has earned him a place
in the hearts of beat generation readers, and the contributers to the
alt.books.beatgeneration newsgroup. He was a prolific (it isn't known how
much he had written; much of it was sent off to publishers long-hand and
never seen again), free-formed, humorous, and painfully honest writer. His
topics included hang-overs, the shit stains on his underwear, classical
music, horse-racing and whores. He was at home with the people of the
streets, the skid row bums, the hustlers, the transient life style. His
language is the poetry of the streets viewed from the honesty of a
hang-over.

Most of Bukowski's work is based on his own experience. In 'Ham On Rye' we
follow his autobiographical character, Henry Chinaski through his childhood
and early years. In 'Factotum' we again find Henry Chinaski, now in his most
vinous days, wandering from city to city, from job to job, from woman to
woman. Bukowski became widely known after the release of the movie 'Barfly'
(produced by Francis Ford Coppola), based on his life around the time
Factotum takes place. Bukowski wrote the screenplay and was somewhat
involved in the production of this film which featured Mickey O'Rourke in
the role of Chinaski/Bukowski.

Prior to the release of Barfly, Bukowski was best known by the public at
large for his novel Post Office. Although Barfly brought Hank to the masses
in a big way, Bukowski is primarily known in literary circles for his
poetry. He has stated that he does not consider himself a poet, but simply a
writer. "To say I'm a poet puts me in the company of versifiers,
neontasters, fools, clods, and scoundrels masquerading as wise men." He has
also made clear that he does not like "form" in poetry, referring to it as
"a paycheck for learning to turn the same screw that has held things
together."

Charles Bukowski died on March 9, 1994 in his adopted hometown of San Pedro,
California.

        -- Michael McCullough, http://www.litkicks.com/Buk/bukmain.html