Journal #2

How does form (structure, rhythm, meter, line breaks) affect meaning in poetry?

The form a poem may have can affect the way we read it. For example if a poem has a large introductary word with several different lines that follow right next to it, stacked on top of each other, than someone might read it like so:

I love (large letters, also in front of the three small lines)

the crystal ball that is the world (small letters).
to hold it in the hand uncurled (small letters).
the feel of the sphere so knurled (small letters).

If I were to see a poem like this and read it I would automatically read:

I love the crystal ball that is the world.
I love to hold it in the hand uncurled.
I love the feel of the sphere so knurled.

Now if I love were to be the same size as the other letters and only in front of the top line I would read:

I love the crystal ball that is the world.
to hold it in the hand uncurled.
the feel of the sphere so knurled.

The first way gives the poem a very unique and fun way of looking at it. I like the way you reuse the first part, I love. It draws you back to the beginning. The structure and the way that the poem was made is very different. I think that it affects the way we look at it and the way we read it. If the structure of a poem is unique, different, and fun then it will read differently than one that is just one big chunk. Another example would be one of the Peotry 180 poems we did earlier on. Poem number 94, My Daughters In New York, by James Reiss. This poem read very strange. It was hard to follow and made the poem seem more complicated than it actually was.

EDEN by Ina Rousseau

Eden

by Ina Rousseau

Ina Rousseau

Somewhere in Eden, after all this time,

does there still stand, abandoned, like

a ruined city, gates sealed with grisly nails,

the luckless garden?

Is sultry day still followed there

by sultry dusk, sultry night,

where on the branches sallow and purple

the fruit hangs rotting?

Is there still, underground,

spreading like lace among the rocks

a network of unexploited lodes,

onyx and gold?

Through the lush greenery

their wash echoing afar

do there still flow the four glassy streams

of which no mortal drinks?

Somewhere in Eden, after all this time,

does there still stand, like a city in ruins,

forsaken, doomed to slow decay,

the failed garden?