Fussy Little Forms: Terza Rima

Hello Toads! For our little form challenge today, let’s try invoking the rule of three in a form that allows for poems that are short or longer--the TERZA RIMA. We’ve played with three in the Garden plenty of times--think triolet or sevenling--but I don’t think we’ve tackled this form directly. It also follows nicely from the chained rhyme we worked on last time, so let’s dig in.

The terza rima has a long pedigree, having been created by Dante for The Divine Comedy, but it is really quite simple in concept. Perhaps that is why it is so long-lasting. It is a series of interlocking three-line stanzas in which the end rhyme in the second line provides the rhyme for the first and third lines of the next, like this:   A-B-A, B-C-B, C-D-C and so on, to your heart’s content.

 
Another famous example of terza rima with which you may be familiar:

“Acquainted with the Night” by Robert Frost

I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain—and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.

I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,

But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height,
One luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right
I have been one acquainted with the night.

Usually the terza rima is written in iambic pentameter, but this is not required. It is suggested that the lines be the same length or syllable count, but again, not imperative. There is no limit to the number of stanzas one might include in a terza rima. One can write a terza rima sonnet as Robert Frost did above, like this: A-B-A, B-C-B, C-D-C, D-E-D, E-E

Academy of American Poets has a longer article at poets.org about terza rima that may be interesting or helpful:  ARTICLE

As a sweet-special and totally inspiring added bonus, I found audio of dearest Adrienne Rich reading her poem titled “Terza Rima,” which flies far afield from the form and, of course, amazes:  AUDIO

And here is a review of Arts of the Possible, Adrienne Rich's collection in which this poem appears:  REVIEW

 

A Birthday in March - Frost

Robert Frost was born on March 26, 1874, in San Francisco. He became interested in reading and writing poetry during his high school years in Lawrence, enrolled at Dartmouth College in Vermont in 1892, and later at Harvard University in Boston, though he never earned a formal college degree. His first published poem, "My Butterfly," appeared on November 8, 1894, in the New York newspaper The Independent.

Robert Frost Biography

Robert Frost and his wife, Elinor, moved to England in 1912 and it was abroad that Frost met and was influenced by such contemporary British poets as Edward Thomas, Rupert Brooke, and Robert Graves. While in England, Frost also established a friendship with the poet Ezra Pound, who helped to promote and publish his work.

Source

Though his work is principally associated with the life and landscape of New England—and though he was a poet of traditional verse forms and metrics who remained steadfastly aloof from the poetic movements and fashions of his time—Frost is anything but merely a regional poet. The author of searching and often dark meditations on universal themes, he is a quintessentially modern poet in his adherence to language as it is actually spoken, in the psychological complexity of his portraits, and in the degree to which his work is infused with layers of ambiguity and irony. - Read the full article at Poets.org, where you will also find a list with links to many of his well-known poems.

I am certain that we all have favourite lines written by Robert Frost, that have been as closely held as old companions, or poems which we memorized in our youths and never forgot. He had a way of summing up simple truths in single sentences, while demonstrating an intense understanding of the human condition. For this challenge, I encourage you all to revisit his poetry, or peruse a variety of his quoted words on Goodreads.com and to respond in what ever way you feel inspired to do.

A Toad's Favor(u)rite Poem

I found this challenge difficult, until I went downtown to the historic part of the city, I frequent.  I felt the spirits whisper to me and the connection I discovered stunned me.  I live close to Elizabeth City, NC.  Orville n' Wilbur Wright stayed in town before going to Kitty Hawk, for their first flight.  They also inspired the poet I want to share with you today.

 It all started the night I went to my daughter's boyfriend's graduation.  I sat there in the bleachers and Robert Frost's poem, A Road Not Taken, popped into my mind.  It was read at my graduation.   Later in the week,  Robert Frost's name surfaced again.  I took my daughter on an art date downtown.  I discovered there was an antique shop, in the former Southern Hotel.  This shop is inside the historic lobby.   It is steeped in history and charm.  The original staircase once lead to the rooms and a ballroom was on the fourth floor.  Still in existence is the original marble slab check in counter, the service elevator door and button, and the gorgeous checkered floors.  The ceiling has had some work, but you can see it is unique.

  I talked to the shop's owner about the history and yes Orville n' Wilbur Wright had been in these parts, in this hotel.  She said other names and I heard her mention Robert Frost.  I stopped on the way home to mail my butterfly art submission to a magazine and knew I had to do some research.  I discovered Robert was a  New Englander, like me.  He  had been here in this area, not just in the city, but on the Dismal Swamp.  I live near the Dismal Swamp State Park, which is in both North Carolina and Virginia. The swamp was part of the National Underground Railroad and considered a national treasure. How did he end up here, I wondered?

Elinor Miriam White and Robert Frost

 

He had proposed to his love, Elinor White we share the same initials. She was in college and said no. She wanted to finish her education before marriage, smart girl. He had written a poem for her called My Butterfly-I have goosebumps I just mailed my butterfly art-weird.  It was his first published poem.  She refused his proposal and he boarded a train-distraught and ended up in my neck of the woods.

My Butterfly

Precipitate in love,

Tossed, tangled, whirled and whirled above

like a limp rose-wreath in a fairy dance.

When that was, the soft mist

Of my regret hung not on all the land...

 A Line Storm Song

In the wood-world’s torn despair

Than now these numberless years the elves,

Although they are no less there:

All song of the woods is crushed like some

Wild, easily shattered rose...

       

Ghost House

I dwell with a strangely aching heart

In that vanished abode there far apart

On that disused and forgotten road

That has no dust-bath now for the toad

Night comes; the black bats tumble and dart;...

“Poet Robert Frost vanished into the Dismal Swamp, according to local legend, contemplating suicide. After imbibing at a local roadhouse, Frost changed his mind and was inspired to write his signature poem, The Road Less Traveled.”

 Info here

            Later published as The Road Not Taken:

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day! 

Yet knowing how way leads on to way

I doubted if I should ever come back...

Elinor and Robert did get married in 1895! She finished college, he did not. 

 I discovered Robert Frost wrote a poem about Orville n' Wilbur years later. Their first flight was in Kill Devil Hills, but the record soaring one was in Kitty Hawk. Info here. 

There are 473 lines in his Kitty Hawk poem. I will share a few stanzas-no not my favorite poem.

Kitty Hawk

Kitty Hawk, O Kitty,

There was once a song,

Who knows but a great

Emblematic ditty,

I might well have sung

When I came here young

Out and down along

Past Elizabeth City

Sixty years ago...

 When the chance went by

For my Muse to fly

From this Runway Beach

As a figure of speech

In a flight of words,

Little I imagined

Men would treat this sky

Some day to a pageant

Like a thousand birds.

Neither you nor I

Ever thought to fly.

Oh, but fly we did,

Literally fly……

Robert Frost

And now my favorite poem: 

To the Thawing Wind

Come with rain, O loud Southwester!
 Bring the singer, bring the nester;
 Give the buried flower a dream;
 Make the settled snow-bank steam;
 Find the brown beneath the white;
 But whate'er you do to-night,
 Bathe my window, make it flow,
 Melt it as the ice will go;
 Melt the glass and leave the sticks
 Like a hermit's crucifix;
 Burst into my narrow stall;
 Swing the picture on the wall;
 Run the rattling pages o'er;
 Scatter poems on the floor;
 Turn the poet out of door.

Robert Frost

I love how Robert uses nature as a metaphor.   For me, this poem expresses the writing process. I feel the insight of how we as poets bring life to our words and make them breathe.  

Robert Frost:   " A poem aims for “a momentary stay against confusion.” It “begins in delight and ends in wisdom.”   ...“Like a piece of ice on a hot stove the poem must ride on its own melting.”  He stated the highest goal of the poet is— “to lodge a few poems where they will be hard to get rid of.”

For info about this poet check these sites:

The Figure A Poem Makes

Frost Bio

Frost Timeline