Understanding Poetry, the Hard Way

There are two types of people--those who "get" poetry, and those who don't.

My wife is honest, nay proud that she is one of the first type.

I, on the other hand, was once forced by a high school English teacher to memorize 200 lines of poetry--over spring break--for some minor violation of classroom decorum that isn't even a misdemeanor in most states.  This made for some curious interactions.

Sir Walter Scott:  "I think I'll write a poem that will ruin some kid's vacation 167 years from now."

SISTER:  Do you want to go on the Tilt-a-Whirl?

BROTHER:  "Breathes there a man with soul so dead, who never to himself hath said . . ."

SISTER:  Okay--how about the Mad Mouse?

Mad Mouse:  Keep hands in car, DO NOT recite poetry until ride ends.

As a result of my 200-line forced march through Sir Walter Scott, Browning and Wordsworth, I "get" poetry in the sense that a prisoner of war "gets" torture, psychological abuse and a limited choice of menu items.  What follows are the basics of poetry, from one who learned them the hard way.

Just as people may be divided into two kinds, there are three types of poetry.  Regular, unleaded and diesel.  No wait, that's gasoline.  Poetry is like gasoline--that's a simile, a common poetic device--in that there are three basic kinds.  Regular, blank and vers libre, or free verse, not to be confused with "Free Bird", a Lynyrd Skynyrd song with an a-b-a-b-c-d-e-d-d rhyme scheme.

Lynyrd Skynyrd:  Poets of the common, drunken concertgoer.

Regular poetry is the kind you are probably most familiar with, as exemplified by the following familiar verse:

Roses are red, violets are blue,

Sugar is sweet, and so are you!

Note that the words at the end of the lines rhyme, and the lines have the same number of syllables.  So far so good.

A typical poetess

The second type of poetry is "blank" verse.  How is that possible? you ask.  If one is to have poetry, surely there must be somthing on the page.  How right you are--but somewhat silly.  "Blank" verse refers to poems that don't rhyme, but still have the bump-de-dump-de-dump rhythm of regular poetry, as follows:

Roses are red, violets are blue,

I like licorice, and you can't skate!

Note the use of colors--red and blue--and particularized images, licorice and skates.  Makes your mouth water, or hurt, depending on whether you think of the licorice or falling on your face in the middle of your long program at the Winter Olympics.

Finally, there is "free" verse, which has neither rhyme nor rhythm, as follows:

Roses are red, violets are blue,

O Captain, My tuna noodle surprise!

Once you understand these basic principles, you will be ready to participate in mail-in poetry contests upon payment of the exorbitant entry fee and submission of three copies of your poem, double-spaced, on one side of the page only.

But you still won't be able to skate.