You’re right about the uses. But I would urge mastery of the basic rhyme / meter scheme (at least to the level where one can use grammatical modern English without “breaking” the form) before too much experimentation.

Having said that, my first “finished” poems that were sonnet-like were in tetrameter, rather then pentameter, so we’re well into “more than one way to skin a cat” territory, here.

And there’s no way I can argue about cat-skinning with a guy whose dog is named Milton.

Cheers,
PGE

I’m still hoping for more discussion of Frank Brown, though!

Regards,
Don Johnson
Jer 33.3

Now, I don’t encourage using slants merely as a loophole to get out of the demands of true rhyme. Use them intentionally as you would use any other technique, such as true rhyme, alliteration, assonance, etc. Slant rhyme is especially good for reinforcing a sense of ambiguity or indeterminacy in a poem, since it uses resemblance that acknowledges difference. Form and content should always create a unified impression on the reader.

As to devices that ruin poetry, really, I’ve heard an awful lot of would-be poets force themselves to fill in drivel behind an obligatory rhyming word. And not all slants are created equal—you have to trust your ear here. A very good slant often fools the ear into thinking it has heard a real rhyme. (Also remember that certain words that are true rhymes in one English dialect are slants in others, and those differences can suggest interesting possibilities for innovative slants.)

As to the original poem that started this whole discussion, I see it’s not tied down to strict iambics, so I assume that the author is open to innovations within the form. That’s why I suggested the possibility of using slants; it seems you’re interested in some experimentation.

I’m done now.

Anyway, keep posting those sonnets. I’d love to see more of this.

Actually, I’ve got a couple up at my new (but not much travelled, intentionally) blog: blog.inkanblot.com

Cheers,
PGE

Many a good poet has been ruined by using “slant rhyme” as synonymous with “easier than rhyme.” Slant can come into play in poetry, legitimately, but making it other than a cause of dissatisfaction to the attuned reader is harder than it seems.

Innovating within (against?) the forms is part of the joy of working with forms, though. My larger sonnet cycle used an uncommon sestet rhyme scheme (and Auden was my excuse for the innovation, too, oddly) of cdeedc, producing a “mirroring” that seemed to offer me lots of chances to make my theme structure (the cycle had a “mirrored” pattern overall) crop up regularly in the individual sonnets. I also often like to use cddcee, though cdcdee is the most common Petrarchan scheme.

The Italian sonnet’s demands are more noticeable, but I have always found the Spenserian to be the most difficult and contrived sonnet. But form is *innately* contrivance, and the question is how cleverly (and effectively) we can contrive to exploit all the features of language together.

Thanks for chiming in, M. Schuler!

Cheers,
PGE

That is VERY helpful and relieves a bit of the pressure. I shall press on and strive to do better. Do not hesitate to critique to the fullest.

Oh, BTW: generally, we don’t bother with using apostrophes to represent elided sounds (you can just write “defended” and “enthralled” and not bother with “enthrall’d” now). If you think about it, when you pronounce “envious” as two or as three syllables, all the same sounds are still there; what has changed is quantity (the length of time you spend saying the sounds). It’s not like Milton’s favorite trick of writing “spirit” (SPEE-rit or spee-RITE in that day) as “sprite” (SPRITE) when it suited his meter. English didn’t have standard orthography, then.

I would say that in your line “en-vyus” in two syllables is the way to pronounce the word. This is the fun of the iambic rhythm. Look at the differences among these fragments of verses:

his envious eyes devoured (iambic)
his ENvyus EYES deVOURd

envious love, constrained consuming fire (iambic)
ENvious LOVE, conSTRAINED conSUMing FIRE

Envy us not our passing moments here (iambic)
ENvy us NOT our PASSing MOments HERE

anointing his envious eyes (not iambic)
aNOINting his ENvious EYES

…if you listen to the cadence of the phrase, you’ll see it is just as natural to say “envyus” in some environments as “envious” in others. But to say “envy us” as “envyus” would be pushing too far, in most formal verse, I think.

I usually write the Petrarchan, rather than the English, sonnet, so I’m admittedly a trifle fuzzy on the conventions for the English (and, BTW, it matters whether you work in Shakespearean or Spenserian, for your rhymes and developments).

I’ll say this: sonnetteers over the past several centuries have rung quite a few changes on the uses of the form. I would tend to suggest that any intentional and effective use of the form that you make is reasonable, though you can challenge yourself by adding more strictures or trying to work more closely to this or that model.

Here’s one of my all-time favorites from Elizabeth Barrett Browning, in the Petrarchan form:

Two Sayings, The
by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Two savings of the Holy Scriptures beat
Like pulses in the Church’s brow and breast;
And by them we find rest in our unrest
And, heart deep in salt-tears, do yet entreat
God’s fellowship as if on heavenly seat.
The first is JESUS WEPT,–whereon is prest
Full many a sobbing face that drops its best
And sweetest waters on the record sweet:
And one is where the Christ, denied and scorned
LOOKED UPON PETER. Oh, to render plain
By help of having loved a little and mourned,
That look of sovran love and sovran pain
Which HE, who could not sin yet suffered, turned
On him who could reject but not sustain !

Cheers,
PGE

Amazing how one’s brain begins to think
In lines that rhyme and fit without a blink.

I can’t help noticing, Jon, that Peter’s lines go along more smooth and elegant. His lines scan nicely.

~ / ~ / ~ / ~ / ~ /
“His eyes devoured the vineyard, and his queen”

~ / ~ / ? / ~ / ~ /
“Behold! the king’s envious eyes devour”

You’re missing a pause after king’s; if you try:

Behold the king! His envious eyes devour

or

Behold! The king with envious eyes devours

It will feel more polished just because you have a steady meter. Whether or not you’re after that, I think it is very fine. I am sure somebody with experience has little need to do this, but I split up my syllables (mostly–according to the natural accent of the word) when I’m trying and it helps me to be able to count.

You know, if you could work in allusions to Jezebel barking or snapping or other such things, I think it would be poetic.

I was really hoping you would finally comment on a sonnet and provide some guidance. I know you are a pro. I have not attempted one until recently since college days, but hope to keep it up a bit. It is really fun to try and capture Sunday’s sermon after spending time in the text. Not sure how long I can keep it up. I really appreciate your work.

I knew the quatrains should be a unit, and have read that the first introduces the theme or metaphor, the second an extension of the theme or metaphor, the third a conflict, and the final couplet a summarization, sometimes with a new emphasis. Is this accurate?