I belong to a fabulous group of writers who write 14 line poetry. Many of them focus on writing Sonnets and the like, however as a free verse writer, I have concerns. Previously, I have written rhymed poetry. I enjoy rhymed poetry as well as sonnets. The problem I have found (perhaps my own failing) is that if I write in one form, the other gets lost. I have written rhyme and then every thought that comes out of my head is rhymed verse. It makes the journey back to free verse a more difficult journey and I don’t know if I would want that. Also, I do worry that it will change the way I write now.
For all it’s worth, I enjoy the way the lines enter my mind and leave the pen. They have a mind of their own. While experimenting does in no way harm your methods, I worry that switching back to rhyme could. So, in response to that I have started “inventing” my own forms of poetry that meet the guidelines for 14 lines, that are not rhymed. This is why you have seen me post a few different styled poems lately.
Anyway, the other day I wanted to write in a different style that those I have been writing (the Reflective Staircase Poems) which I invented based on other poetic forms (but put together in one form). Then, the words “Fourteen words crawled silently across the page” came into my head and a new poetry form was born. Aptly named by a dear friend, a Tetradecanet, the rules are rather simple. The first line starts with fourteen words, the next line has thirteen, and so on until only one word is left.
So perhaps you can understand a little about why I’ve been trying new things and why they curiously all have fourteen lines. Still trying to grow… but not to the point of losing myself.
Fourteen words crawled silently across the page, hunting for meaning where meaning was lost
it was an abstract passage, a veiled flight of fancy, a wordsmith’s dream.
To the writer’s delight, words danced, crooned, and bounded in uncertain fashion.
The words required the author’s gentle touch to give them meaning
and the writer was equally anxious to start the task.
Pen raised, the words did wend their curious way.
A story was spoken, a tale was told
and inquisitive ear, did beg to listen.
This is where we find ourselves,
between the spoken, delightful dance
of words, glorious words
easing their sorrows,
© Sumyanna 2017
Wonderful image courtesy of Pixabay.com
Thank you Ferrick Gray, for coining the term Tetradecanet.