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Elizabeth Santos
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-11-08
Posts 9269
Pennsylvania

0 posted 2002-06-08 03:54 PM


Nan, I thought this appropriate to post here, After reading your definitions of various meters, I realize there are a lot of corrections to be made.


Caverns

All alone, I felt imprisoned in a transitory vision
Not a spectrum of a prism could delightfully invade
Into darkness I created, treading into deeds not slated
On the tablet scrolled and dated, with my name in letters laid

Set was I on new adventure, no one could refuse or censure
This my quest duly indentured by my soul to my own self
Willing was my heart to travel to the place that would unravel
On a floor of rock and gravel, jagged edge and weathered shelf

There upon a silent mountain, only gurgles of a fountain
Interrupted paces counted to the cavern of my quest
In was in a cave of darkness, barren rooms of granite starkness
Cave uncharted through the markless tunnel path of my request

In the dank of earthly womb, where hidden secrets were entombed
And now at last will be exhumed in chambers yet to be unsealed
Like a marble pillared palace, stone the footing and the ballast
Rich the contents of the chalice, waiting there to be revealed

Down the marble hall I wandered, into chambers where I pondered
All the friendships I had squandered , in the course of passing years
Jealousy in tilted tiles, Permanent mosaic smiles
Lavishing deceitful aisles, dripping with another’s tears

Slipping off a ledge I tumbled, rocks behind me rolled and rumbled
Grasping at the floor I fumbled into ghostly cells of shame
Eerie whispers, phantom voices, making pacts and giving choices
Uttering in haunting noises, repetitiously my name

I walked the hallway to a corner where I huddled safe and warmer
But I found this to be former days of joyfulness and glee
Now an empty spatial token of the words I left unspoken
Of the promises I’d broken, deeds unfinished, floating free

Stalactites weeping tears of stone from inner places of my own
Eternal icicles were wet and dripping from my very soul
Into a likeness growing clearer, images were drawing nearer
Of a child so much dearer than one huddled in a hole

There I sat and in my sorrow, found a stone that I could borrow
Gem of beauty for tomorrow’s memories so rich and pure
All the rooms of loneliness, the crystal glass of homeliness
The spiral thoughts of only-ness I soon would leave behind the door

In closets of apology, in hallways of astrology
Through windows of psychology, no stone unturned or left behind
Then filtering through rocky ceiling, chimes of hope were softly peeling
Light of day was now revealing end of journey through the mind

Elizabeth Santos

[This message has been edited by Elizabeth Santos (06-08-2002 03:55 PM).]

© Copyright 2002 Elizabeth Santos - All Rights Reserved
Nan
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-20
Posts 21191
Cape Cod Massachusetts USA
1 posted 2002-06-11 10:07 AM


Liz - You're an expert at meter... Who'm I to try to improve upon what you do?  I'm studying this one though... and I'll get back to you later on it...
Not A Poet
Member Elite
since 1999-11-03
Posts 3885
Oklahoma, USA
2 posted 2002-06-11 12:25 PM


Hi Liz,

As is usually the case, the meter is excellent. Also, this one is a fascinating read and much more difficult to do than it appears, because it reads so easily.

Thanks,
Pete

Munda
Member Elite
since 1999-10-08
Posts 3544
The Hague, The Netherlands
3 posted 2002-06-11 02:58 PM


Perhaps not all your lines have the same syllable count... this poem reads like a dream Liz! Not to mention the incredible complicated rhyme scheme you used! WOWSA! Can you tell I'm impressed and love your poem?
Balladeer
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-05
Posts 25505
Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA
4 posted 2002-06-11 10:37 PM


Fantastic meter, Liz, although I do wonder why you deviated from the rhyming words in the third and eigth stanzas...at any rate, it is excellent work
Janet Marie
Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554

5 posted 2002-06-11 10:55 PM


When I saw this poem in Open 20...I was blown away by it, and I still am.
This poem is just so very impressive, the internal rhymes blended with the alternating end line rhymes made this dance on the tongue when read aloud...its cadence chants.
When I saw Liz posted it here...I went and read Nan's meter lesson. I dont for a minute, pretend to understand all the rules and qualifications that meet the meter criteria for what makes a poem "perfect" nor do I possess them...but I know this poem is one to be studied and to learn from.
( as will be any suggestions Nan or anyone else would make per Liz's request to tweak and tighten.)

It's definately one to admire.

There I sat and in my sorrow, found a stone that I could borrow
Gem of beauty for tomorrow’s memories so rich and pure
All the rooms of loneliness, the crystal glass of homeliness
The spiral thoughts of only-ness I soon would leave behind the door

In closets of apology, in hallways of astrology
Through windows of psychology, no stone unturned or left behind
Then filtering through rocky ceiling, chimes of hope were softly peeling
Light of day was now revealing end of journey through the mind



Excellent indeed!!!  

Janet Marie
Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554

6 posted 2002-06-11 10:58 PM


Silly me....I forgot to ask...does this style of rhyme scheme/format have a particular name?
Nan
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-20
Posts 21191
Cape Cod Massachusetts USA
7 posted 2002-06-11 11:12 PM


Trochaic Octometer

YIKES

Janet Marie
Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554

8 posted 2002-06-11 11:50 PM


Thank you Nan...
YES...YIKES!!!
No wonder me moody muse runs off...she knows she has SO MUCH TO LEARN and shes dense and LAZY!!!

So, Liz? did ya know you were writing a "Trochaic Octometer" or did it just come out that way. *L*
(dont answer that..Im already feeling inadequate enough) ROFL

"Trochaic Octometer" ???????????

(I bet thats a fancy word for masterpiece)


*taking my mothy butt to bed with serious poet envy*

tylenol...I need tylenol..
all these big words make a moths head hurt.




Elizabeth Santos
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-11-08
Posts 9269
Pennsylvania
9 posted 2002-06-12 05:45 PM


TRochaic Octameter is an instrument used to measure the length of a tape worm with 8 sements still attached. Heck, I don't know what it is! But now I'm learning and there are corrections to be made here, including the ones Baladeer pointed out. It originally rhymed but then I made changes and forgot to change the other word that originally rhymed. Balladeer doen't miss a thinG! THank you, oh master of meter! It will be corrected.As for the syllable count, I don't know if thet is importanr to a tape worm measure. Perhaps Nan can answer that and I will certainly look it up
THank you fellow classmates for reading this poem
Liz

Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354
Listening to every heart
10 posted 2002-06-13 06:56 AM



I do believe, Poe himself would weep with joy...

Titia Geertman
Member Ascendant
since 2001-05-07
Posts 5182
Netherlands
11 posted 2002-06-13 02:52 PM



er...er....this Dutchie goes back into the books and study some more...but always lacking time, sigh

Great job done here Liz

Titia

A rose is a rose is a rose...I guess...
Check out my new website: lookheretitia.fcpages.com (I didn't 'link' this, so it won't take too much space).I

Marge Tindal
Deputy Moderator 5 ToursDeputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-06
Posts 42384
Florida's Foreverly Shores
12 posted 2002-06-13 04:25 PM


Lizzie~
Yes ... very interesting ...
the content alone is worth the read ...
I have no need to measure anything else~
*Hugs*
~*Marge*~

~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~
         noles1@totcon.com                    

Dr.Moose1
Member Elite
since 1999-09-05
Posts 3448
Bewilderment , USA
13 posted 2002-06-16 09:17 AM


Elizabeth,
I am totally impressed .This is a fantastic piece of work( not surprisingly, considering its' source). Trochaic octometer? I am simply going to have to attempt one of these.
Doc

Nan
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-20
Posts 21191
Cape Cod Massachusetts USA
14 posted 2002-06-16 09:44 AM


OK - Since Liz is SUCH a wonderfully metered writer, she knows where her poem deviates... For the rest of you, I'm going to take her work line by line and break down her verse to show you where her (self-admitted) meter varies.

Liz thinks and writes very naturally in iambic meter (da-DUM).  It's not easy to restructure your thoughts to write trochaically (DUM-da)... That's probably why she slips back into her comfy iambic mode on some of her lines...

She has a combination of iambic and trochaic lines in this poem - and I've dissected each line so you can see what she's done.

I've 'assumed' that she intended to write in trochaic verse, as she begins the poem with it - But - The end of this piece really flows iambically... Don'tcha think?

Here's my interpretation of the meter (Others may hear it differently)..
quote:

All alone, I felt imprisoned in a transitory vision
ALL-a/LONE-i/FELT-im/PRIS-oned/IN-a/TRANS-i/TOR-y/VIS-ion
Eight perfect trochaic feet…ergo TROCHAIC OCTOMETER

Not a spectrum of a prism could delightfully invade
NOT-a/SPECT-rum/OF-a/PRIS-m/COULD-de/LIGHT-ful/Y-in/VADE
One unstressed syllable shy of Octometer…or one extra for heptameter

Into darkness I created, treading into deeds not slated
IN-to/DARK-ness/I-cre/AT-ed/TREAD-ing/IN-to/DEEDS-not/SLAL-ted
Eight perfect trochaic feet

On the tablet scrolled and dated, with my name in letters laid
ON-the/TAB-let/SCROLLED-and/DA-ted/WITH-my/NAME-in/LET-ters/LAID
One unstressed syllable short


Set was I on new adventure, no one could refuse or censure
SET-was/I-on/NEW-ad/VEN-ture/NO-on/COULD-re/FUSE-or/CEN-sure
Perfect Trochaic Octometer

This my quest duly indentured by my soul to my own self
THIS-my/QUEST-du/LY-in/DEN-tured/BY-my/SOUL-to/MY-own/SELF
One syllable shy

Willing was my heart to travel to the place that would unravel
WILL-ing/WAS-my/HEART-to/TRA-vel/TO-the/PLACE-that/WOULD-un/RAV-el
Perfect Trochaic Octometer

On a floor of rock and gravel, jagged edge and weathered shelf
ON-a/FLOOR-of/ROCK-and/GRA-vel/JAG-ged/EDGE-and/WEATH-ered/SHELF
One syllable shy


There upon a silent mountain, only gurgles of a fountain
THERE-up/ON-a/SI-lent/MOUNT-ain/ON-ly/GURG-les/OF-a/FOUNT-ain
Perfect Trochaic Octometer

Interrupted paces counted to the cavern of my quest
IN-ter/RUPT-ed/PAC-es/COUNT-ed/TO-the/CAV-ern/OF-my/QUEST
One syllable shy

It was in a cave of darkness, barren rooms of granite starkness
IT-was/IN-a/CAVE-of/DARK-ness/BAR-ren/ROOMS-of/GRAN-ite/STARK-ness
Perfect Trochaic Octometer

Cave uncharted through the markless tunnel path of my request
CAVE-un/CHART-ed/THROUGH-the/MARK-less/TUN-nel/PATH-of’/MY-re/QUEST
One syllable shy


In the dank of earthly womb, where hidden secrets were entombed
IN-the/DANK-of/EARTH-ly/WOMB-where/HID-den/SEC-rets/WERE-en/TOMBED
One syllable shy

And now at last will be exhumed in chambers yet to be unsealed
and-NOW/at-LAST/will-BE/ex-HUMED/in-CHAM/bers-YET/to-BE/un-SEALED
Um… This is perfect Iambic Octometer?…Ooops..

Like a marble pillared palace, stone the footing and the ballast
LIKE-a/MAR-ble/PIL-lared/PAL-ace/STONE-the/FOOT-ing/AND-the/BAL-last
Perfect Trochaic Octometer

Rich the contents of the chalice, waiting there to be revealed
RICH-the/CON-tents/OF-the/CHAL-ice/WAIT-ing/THERE-to/BE-re/VEALED
One syllable shy


Down the marble hall I wandered, into chambers where I pondered
DOWN-the/MAR-ble/HALL-i/WAN-dered/IN-to/CHAM-bers/WHERE-i/PON-dered
Perfect Trochaic Octometer

All the friendships I had squandered , in the course of passing years
ALL-the/FRIEND-ships/I-had/SQUAND-ered/IN-the/COURSE-of/PASS-ing/YEARS
One syllable shy

Jealousy in tilted tiles, Permanent mosaic smiles
JEAL-ous/Y-in/TILT-ed/TI-les/PER-man/ENT-mo/SA-ic/SMI-les
Perfect Trochaic Octometer (provided we schmooze the ‘smiles & tiles’ into two syllables)

Lavishing deceitful aisles, dripping with another’s tears
LA-vish/ING-de/CEIT-ful/AIS-les/DRIP-ping/WITH-an/OTH-er’s/TEARS
One syllable short


Slipping off a ledge I tumbled, rocks behind me rolled and rumbled
SLIP-ping/OFF-a/LEDGE-i/TUMB-led/ROCKS-be/HIND-me/ROLLED-and/RUMB-led
Perfect Trochaic Octometer

Grasping at the floor I fumbled into ghostly cells of shame
GRASP-ing/AT-the/FLOOR-i/FUM-bled/IN-to/GHOST-ly/CELLS-of/SHAME
One syllable shy

Eerie whispers, phantom voices, making pacts and giving choices
EER-ie/WHISP-ers/PHAN-tom/VOIC-es/MA-king/PACTS-and/GIV-ing/CHOIC-es
Perfect Trochaic Octometer

Uttering in haunting noises, repetitiously my name
UT-ter/ING-in/HAUNT-ing/NOIS-es/REP-i/TI-tious/LY-my/NAME
One syllable shy


I walked the hallway to a corner where I huddled safe and warmer
i-WALKED/the-HALL/way-TO/a-COR/ner-WHERE/i-HUD/dled-SAFE/and-WARM/er
Iambic – with one extra syllable – This line only needs the first syllable removed

But I found this to be former days of joyfulness and glee
BUT-i/FOUND-this/TO-be/FOR-mer/DAYS-of/JOY-ful/NESS-and/GLEE
One syllable short

Now an empty spatial token of the words I left unspoken
NOW-an/EMP-ty/SPA-tial/TO-ken/OF-the/WORDS-i/LEFT-un/SPO-ken
Perfect Trochaic Octometer

Of the promises I’d broken, deeds unfinished, floating free
OF-the/PRO-mis/ES-I’d/BRO-ken/DEEDS-un/FIN-ished/FLOAT-ing/FREE
One syllable shy


Stalactites weeping tears of stone from inner places of my own
sta-LAC/tites-WEEP/ing-TEARS/of-STONE/from-IN/ner-PLAC/es-OF/my-OWN
Iambic Octometer

Eternal icicles were wet and dripping from my very soul
e-TER/nal-IC/i-CLES/were-WET/and-DRIP/ping-FROM/my-VER/y-SOUL
Iambic Octometer

Into a likeness growing clearer, images were drawing nearer
In-TO/a-LIKE/ness-GROW/ing-CLEAR/er-IM/ag-ES/were-DRAW/ing-NEAR/er
One extra syllable makes the line iambic

Of a child so much dearer than one huddled in a hole
OF-a/CHI-ld/SO-much/DEAR-er/THAN-one/HUD-dled/IN-a/HOLE
One syllable short – ‘Child’ schmoozed into two syllables makes the line work trochaically


There I sat and in my sorrow, found a stone that I could borrow
THERE-i/SAT-and/IN-my/SOR-row/FOUND-a/STONE-that/I-could/BOR-row
Perfect Trochaic Octometer

Gem of beauty for tomorrow’s memories so rich and pure
GEM-of/BEAU-ty/FOR-to/MOR-row’s/MEM-or/IES-so/RICH-and/PURE
One syllable shy

All the rooms of loneliness, the crystal glass of homeliness
ALL-the/ROOMS-of/LONE-li/NESS-the/CRYS-tal/GLASS-of/HOME-li/NESS
One syllable shy

The spiral thoughts of only-ness I soon would leave behind the door
the-SPI/ral-THOUGHTS/of-ON/ly-NESS/i-SOON/would-LEAVE/be-HIND/the-DOOR
Iambic Octometer


In closets of apology, in hallways of astrology
in-CLOS/ets-OF/a-POL/o-GY/in-HALL/ways-OF/as-TROL/o-GY
Iambic Octometer

Through windows of psychology, no stone unturned or left behind
through-WIN/dows-OF/psych-O/lo-GY/no-STONE/un-TURNED/or-LEFT/be-HIND
Iambic Octometer

Then filtering through rocky ceiling, chimes of hope were softly peeling
Then-FIL/ter-ING/through-ROCK/y-CEIL/ing-CHIMES/of-HOPE/were-SOFT/ly-PEEL/ing
The first syllable is not only extra, but it makes the line iambic

Light of day was now revealing end of journey through the mind
LIGHT-of/DAY-was/NOW-re/VEAL-ing/END-of/JOUR-ney/THROUGH-the/MIND
One syllable shy




DUM-da!!
NEXT??

:


[This message has been edited by Nan (06-16-2002 10:03 AM).]

Elizabeth Santos
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-11-08
Posts 9269
Pennsylvania
15 posted 2002-06-16 09:09 PM


Nan, Oh my gosh, you must have spent hours. This is such a great lesson for me because I just write what sounds good to my ear and never pay attention to these details, number of syllables and number of stresses. Thank you so much for all that effort. It paid well, because now I have a new challenge in my poetry and I love challeges. You were the one who taught me how to write a sonnet, you and Hoot. Now they are easy, but this poem is more complicated because you have to pay attention to so many things.
THANK YOU< THANK YOU< THANK YOU!
You're the best!
Liz

Bridget Shenachie
Senior Member
since 2002-01-23
Posts 1056
Kansas USA
16 posted 2002-06-18 12:49 PM


I think this was my favorite stanza--

In closets of apology, in hallways of astrology
Through windows of psychology, no stone unturned or left behind
Then filtering through rocky ceiling, chimes of hope were softly peeling
Light of day was now revealing end of journey through the mind

But it was all so good!!!

I'm off to read Poe's essay--"The Philosophy of Composition".

Wowzer!  Do I have lots to learn!
Shenachie

Mysteria
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Member Laureate
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328
British Columbia, Canada
17 posted 2002-06-18 02:57 AM


Well all I have to say is,

HRUMMMMMMMP - Da DUM indeed!  Well I printed this lesson, and I will try to figure out what the heck you are trying to say here.  This would be a mystery to me why it would possibly be all that important to take all that time to count out stuff, (don't you lose your trend of thought doing that? LOL)     Now of course you two have me wondering why you are my best friends, when my dum doesn't even da close to yours, or my da definitely is not dumming and probably wont ever.  The sad part of this whole thing is I spent more time writing this comment than it would have taken me to do a whole poem in the submission area like I normally do, (picking a picture included) LOL, No wonder they call this the WORKshop!  Maybe I should start a SLACKERshop?  Seriously though Liz you are the best, and Nan, how the heck did you get so darn knowledgeable for crying out loud anyway, must have been a lot of work?  Ahhh, that would explain why you head up the WORKshop now wouldn't it?  

[This message has been edited by Mysteria (06-18-2002 02:59 AM).]

Kit McCallum
Administrator
Member Laureate
since 2000-04-30
Posts 14774
Ontario, Canada
18 posted 2002-06-18 06:47 AM


Liz ... this was absolutely wonderful, and Nan ... you did a marvelous job of breaking down the lines for everyone. What an excellent post to bookmark!

Very much enjoyed Liz!

Best wishes,
/Kit

Nan
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-20
Posts 21191
Cape Cod Massachusetts USA
19 posted 2002-06-18 07:48 AM


quote:

Nan, how the heck did you get so darn knowledgeable for crying out loud anyway, must have been a lot of work?  Ahhh, that would explain why you head up the WORKshop now wouldn't it?  


Well, Sharon - Someone had to WORK and someone had to SHOP... and you got first choice...

BUT - Maybe we COULD open that SLACKERshop... Good plan... You can still SHOP... I'll do the SLACKING



Elizabeth Santos
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-11-08
Posts 9269
Pennsylvania
20 posted 2002-06-18 11:08 AM


I would like to thank all who responded to this poem. I thouroughly enjoyed some of the comments (including Mysterias comments very much in character)but special thanks to Nan for her diligent lesson on meter. Kit, this was a lesson for me which I will also keep as a reference, or else I'll just refer to your poetry which is faultless.
Thank you all
Liz
Wish I had more time here, but I'm pretty bust right now

Balladeer
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-05
Posts 25505
Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA
21 posted 2002-06-18 11:14 PM


sorry you're bust, Liz....but I love to see you whenever you show up
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