Write a poem similar to a braided tapestry--each stanza will have a new meaning while following the same pattern and remaining connected to create a new image.
The pantoum is a form of poetry where there are repeating lines throughout the poem. It is composed of a series of quatrains; the second and fourth lines of each stanza are repeated as the first and third lines of the next stanza.
In The Making of a Poem, Eavan Boland and Mark Strand explain how "the reader takes four steps forward, then two back," making the pantoum a "perfect form for the evocation of a past time."
Here's a visual representation of how to set up a pantoum:
While a seemingly rigid form, the pantoum still has room for some freedoms. The original form consists of an ABAB rhyme, but several poets have steered away from this rule which has allowed for the poems to branch out.
Consider this poem by Elaine Sexton:
These short lines are repeated exactly as the form intended, yet the poet still manages to create a new image, a new piece of the scene with each stanza.
Now consider this poem which takes more liberties with the form:
Perhaps the universe is an extinguished building
with blue banners strung along
and the forest, more like a commodity
bordering bushes and asphalt,
something else to string our blue banners on.
Never was restoration swifter:
the leafless trees, the asphalt
less splintered and more splendid.
Never was restoration swifter
with its mightier solutions,
less splintered and more splendid
snipers, dynamiters, colorful bombs.
We please ourselves with mightier solutions,
picnics under blue spruces
snipers, dynamiters, colorful bombs
the guardians of what we might call “home rights.”
At picnics, under blue spruces
we clamor after the news
and its employees, the guardians of “home rights”
“the media” mustering “one mind.”
It’s news,
the decision to nobly save rather than meanly lose
some pretense of mustering “one mind”
secures its truth.
The decision to nobly save rather than meanly lose
our flag
secures its truth
as a squirrel secures its nuts by hiding them in the ground.
Our flag—
a souvenir of having been here before
a squirrel’s nuts, deep in the ground.
But travel, travail, and The Method’s mistakes
all souvenirs of having been here before,
haunt us and taunt us and call us names.
But travail, travel, and Method’s mistakes
mark a different season, nuts rotting, bulbs blooming.
Each season haunts us and taunts us and calls us names
until finally the universe is an extinguished building,
a different season, nuts rotting, bulbs blooming
and the forest, a commodity.
--
Steensen repeats images rather than exact lines which allows for an even stronger narrative to exist--although it does lose the incantation aspect of the pantoum.
Write your own
To begin a pantoum, you'll need to brainstorm a strong, imagistic scene or narrative to pull from. For example, say you wanted to write about going to the county fair. Make a list of things you see, smell, hear, feel while there--draft some similes and metaphors to go along with those.
Identify your hook. What's the endgame for this particular scene? What's the conflict or occasion that has made you want to interweave its aspects together to reach a certain conclusion? Strand and Boland suggest to use the pantoum to reflect on some sort of past-time. What moment can you reflect on in a pantoum--present in one way in the beginning and change its meaning by the end?
In other words, the oomph should be hidden in plain sight until the final stanza--then on full blast.
There will be so many drafts. This is a challenging exercise and will cause many crumpled papers and scribbles, but I assure you, it'll be worth it! Harness the idea of repetition and incantations; use your tools to change the context and meaning behind new lines.
Make sure every word has a purpose. There's no room for clunky lines or sentences here--for that repetition to move flawlessly, there needs to be no clogs in the machine.
Consider one more poem for inspiration:
Happy Writing!
コメント