the art of rhyme

Lately, most of my title for things have begun with “the art of…” not because I am brain farting along but because I am truly recognizing that so much of what we do is an art, things which must be learned, practiced, considered and then combined with a kind of creative inspiration so that we may learn, practice and consider even more.

I am just starting into my third week of “changing my diet,” and while all has not been roses (think more wild daisies) this whole process is proving to be good for me in ways I never expected. To continue the garden analogy, after a week or so of being able to begin to notice the floors growing, some wild and some planted, I have now begun to notice some weeds too.

The thing about weeds is you just can’t make a day of it and yank them all out.

Some weeds have been growing for so long they are rooted beneath the flowers and as much as their roots draw nutrients away from the flowers, to yank them out would be to uproot the flower as well.

So what does one do? One waits until the flower has finished blooming for its season and either transplants it to a new area or, takes cutting a nurtures it away from the garden to be planted in the spring.

That is kind of…optimistic, for real cuttings like real life, take a year or two of being nurtured in careful settings to become strong enough to plant.

I am working on the next 15 Minutes show, which will air this sunday, on The Art of Rhyme. Rhyming is such a glorious and complicated business that it just appeals to all my small obsessive tendencies. I think one of the issues about teaching rhyme is that while it would be very easy to present the 52 varieties of poetic rhyming styles (not really, I think it is like 30 or so), that would do no one any good without also weaving in the study of the content and impact of rhyme. I think that is where it gets most complicated. Rhyming, in poetry, can either enhance the impact of the content or, in essence, completely emasculate it of any purpose or meaning. The latter is, unfortunately, brutally easy to accomplish.

So I am going to have to bring in a bit of the symbolism and meaning part of the Sublime workshop and a touch of the poetical grammar styles to help explain it all. I know some of you have seen my comments about allusive grammar and sent me notes that basically said “WTF is that?” Well, I will talk about that too and all the schools of though on grammar type things.

All in 45 minutes or less.


Such goals.

Total and complete side track…like a bright shiny object just flashed in front of my eyes and I went “ooohhhhh pretty” and now my head is somewhere else.

So I made this promise to myself, about the same time that I decided to do the whole change my diet type thing. It came from the day I had to go get a 60 lb bale of peat for the compost toilet from the store a couple miles (and hills) away on my bicycle. I balanced the bale on my pedal and lashed it to the frame with some rope and presto! Instant hand truck.

So anyway, I pushed that sucker all the way home and when I got to the cave I leaned the bike against the inside of the fence and untied the bale.

The Mad Kitten, for the first time, thought that rope and the way its ends were flying around were great fun. I wound up standing and spinning in a circle while dragging the rope along the ground while we played “snake in the grass.”

A week later, I went out into the yard and MK came bouncing out of the pushes and “tagged” me before skittering away and waiting for me to play. But…I was too busy with my wonderful things and I went back inside. As soon as I sat at my desk I realized she had wanted to play and I had been too busy with my things and I promised myself that the next time she was in the mood I would get the rope and we would play.

And yesterday we did, and it was great fun.

And then…

she did one of those things that she does that are just a little bit freaky because you realize just how much bizarre motor control she has. We had been playing for a while and it was at a point where she was lying on the last foot of the rope but not holding it, and she got distracted by something next door. As she was watching it I thought this would be an ideal time to sneak the rope out from under her so I started pulling.

Without taking her attention off of next door, she simply squeezed her left arm (paw, whatever) to her side so the rope was caught in her armpit (pawpit). She never once looked at me or the rope.

Sometimes I worry about leaving pens around.

Someday I will wake up to find a note from her I am sure.

2010. Cassandra Tribe. All Rights Reserved.


About cassandratribe

"There are few artists that can do what Cassandra Tribe does. Whether with her poetry, her videos or her blog, Cassandra examines the truths that most of us can never come close to realizing and shows it for what it is, both beautiful and frightening at the same time. She exposes our inner-most workings like the cross-section of a powerful but flawed machine, our gears and springs, nuts and bolts removed and laid out before us. She is a true artist. Her new video, Requiem for a God, is the latest example of Cassandra's willingness to tear open and examine the very things that make us human. Shooting the film entirely by herself, she also eliminates all the little excuses we come up with to keep us from ourselves and our truth. You see, even when she's not trying to be, Cassandra Tribe is a beacon of truth and humanity in this darkest of worlds." (Michael E. Quigg, The Culture Network, June 2009)
This entry was posted in change, creative, life, poem, poetry, sunday radio. Bookmark the permalink.

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