BLOG OF THE WEEK ~ A FEW NOTES IN PRAISE OF REPETITION

This week we are chatting with Wendy Bourke, of Words and Words and Whatnot, about the use of repetition in poetry. Wendy did some research and put together this article about how to make our poems more effective by employing devices such as repetition to good effect. Pour yourself a cup of tea and let's dive in, for some good information and inspiration!

Sherry: When Wendy recently posted this poem, I loved it so much I wanted to feature it as a Poem of the Week. Wendy suggested we use it as an example of the use of repetition in poetry, and offered to put together an article on the topic. As I am SO grateful for ideas and assistance for my features, I accepted with alacrity. So let's read on, and absorb some very useful information. Here is the poem that sparked this chat.

I WAS THE ONE

I was the one

I was the one who was first – in my class – to get glasses.
I was the one who memorized snippets of poetry – and
lied about it. I was the one, my father called 'Bird'. I was
the one who made tissue paper poppies in all the wrong
colors and had imaginary sword fights and practiced
yodelling, while I dressed for school. I was the one who
wouldn't step on a crack and gagged at the smell of oranges
and walked on my toes – though it hurt like the dickens.

I was the one who crossed my eyes, whenever I was taken
by surprise – and – despite my granny's fervent predictions
they would stay that way, forever ... I was the one spared
that googly-eyed fate. I was the one who didn't catch
the baton. I was the one who had to stand in the corner,
when the boy behind poked me in the back to ask what
page we were on.  I was the one who tripped into a hornet's
nest. I was the one, most often, told to 'Sit still' and 'Shush'.

I was the one who worried for days, that a tree was growing
in my tummy after I accidentally swallowed an apple seed.
I was the one who talked with an English accent when we
played board games and tied my shoes with bunny-ears and
and couldn't snap my fingers. I was the one who got hiccups
from pop ... that threatened to never stop. I was the one
who held time in my hands, catching the sunlight  – just so – 

on the crystal of my mother's watch, a lifetime ago ...
that was me

                                            … I was the one

*****

Sherry: I resonate with every line of this, Wendy. I was an awkward child, freckle-faced and plain and falling over my feet. I remember my mom's disapproving face, turned towards me so often. My Grandma used to threaten my face would stay that way, too, when I frowned. I credit them both for my sunny disposition! LOL.

I loved every line of this poem! And I adore that your father called you "Bird". That is so sweet.

Wendy: I'm so pleased that you enjoyed my poem 'I was the one', Sherry. It was a fun piece to write.

The message of the poem is that we – all of us – carry bits and pieces of our childhood with us, all the days of our lives.  I suspect that those remnants show themselves in a host of ways – most of them, tucked away from consciousness .  And yet, they subtly influence our likes and dislikes ... our responses to that which we encounter in our daily comings and goings ... our foibles ... our insecurities ... and – even, perhaps – that which gives us joy.  I really enjoyed casting back to odd little eccentricities and entanglements from my childhood.  The exercise conjured up a plethora of memories.

Sherry: Me, too! There is rich ore to mine back there. 

source

Wendy: But I also found that it was so delightful working with repetition.  As you can see, there is a lot of it in 'I was the one'.  I wanted to infuse the poem with a sense of childlike vulnerability.  As well, I thought the words 'I was the one' conveyed a sense of naiveté reminiscent of a child's confession – as opposed to an adult's admission.  

I haven't written a poem with a lot of repetition in it in quite some time, and it summoned forth a host of divine recollections of so many incredible works I have read over a lifetime, that were filled with wonderful repetition.  And thus, I thought I would take this opportunity to put together:  'A Few Notes In Praise of Repetition'.  I am sure that there are multiple Ph.D. dissertations devoted to the myriad of qualities that repetition bestows upon poetic works – there are so many splendiferous ways that this fantastic literary device  gives our poetry wings.  So I must try to rein myself in ... a lot.  

In poetry, repetition can be a word, a phrase, or a full sentence,   I recently, discovered there are 11  ways (in terms of placement) in which repetition can appear in poetry – most of them with lovely exotic names.  Literary Devices  lists them, and provides explanations and examples.    

Repetition can identify a theme and/or add emphasis,  It can create cadence and rhythm and structure.  It can add irony and/or juxtaposition and even, at times, humor.  It can be stirring  or haunting – melodic or hypnotic.

Many (in some cases, centuries old) classical poetry forms, are constructed using repetition as a central literary device.  Throughout the 20th century to current day, repetition continues to be an important creative vehicle for poets.   I was somewhat surprised to learn that Dylan Thomas's 'Do not go Gentle into that Good Night' (1947) is a Villanelle.  The repeated title/opening line builds up the emotional impact, while adding meter. 

Robert Frost's 'Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening' (1922), is a Rubaiyat.  It uses repetition sparingly, repeating an indelible line a mere two times, at the close of the piece.   And yet, what a haunting echo –  ' And miles to go before I sleep' –   leaves with all who read those words.

In Maya Angelou's brilliant poem, ‘Still I Rise’ (1978) repetition is used to stunning effect.  The repetition of  'I rise' feels much like a mantra; an invocation that regardless of oppression, prejudice and hate – we will succeed.   Repetition, indeed, continues to be a feature in contemporary poetry. 

In the poem 'Wild Geese' (1986),  Pulitzer Prize Winner, Mary Oliver, begins the piece with anaphora repetition –  which is the repetition of a phrase at the start of lines.  Specifically, she opens with the words 'You do not...' and repeats those words at the start of the next line.  This creates an intensity, out of which the rest of the poem cascades.  

Sherry: Wendy, this is so interesting. It is intriguing to picture the poets beginning to write these famous poems. We are so used to reading and accepting them as they are, we forget that, like us, they sat down with a blank piece of paper, chose a form and wrestled with it, just as we do.

Wendy: I have been reading a lot of poetry lately, Sherry, and find myself, truly, blown away by repetition and the cornucopia of awesome effects  that poets, through the ages, have been able to achieve with this remarkable, multifaceted and layered  literary device.  What would the breadth of our poetry be, without it?

Sherry: You have reawakened my interest in forms, Wendy. My favourite is the pantoum which, for some reason, comes to me more easily than others.

Wendy: For those poets who are interested in exploring repetition a little more, I highly recommend  the Society of Classical Poets website, which features really clear info on how to write classical poetry (Villanelles, Sestinas, Triolets, etc.), most of which are built on the various types of repetition.  On a personal note, I have found, The Society of Classical Poets is very supportive of poets working with classical forms.  

Sherry: Thank you so much for researching this and putting this together for us, Wendy. We poets can get in a rut and forget to challenge ourselves to work a little harder on our poems, challenge ourselves to try forms, whether difficult or easy. You have fired up our engines for 2019, which is coming ever closer - a new year for sharing poetry in this wonderful community. Thank you for the inspiration!

Wendy: Thank you, Sherry, for giving me the opportunity to exercise a few brain cells.  I appreciated  learning a little more about repetition and am intrigued by all the – newly awakened – possibilities it has conferred upon my poetic 'tool kit'. 

Sherry: Me, too! And thank you so much for gathering and sharing this information. We appreciate it so much

Wasn't this a lovely chat, my friends? Are you as motivated as I am, now, to tackle some thorny forms and wrestle them into submission? 

This was our last feature of 2018. Next week I will post a seasonal wish for you to enjoy our down-time however you and your family traditionally do, at this time of year. We will be back January 6th, 2019 (wow!) with the Poetry Pantry, followed by a bright and shiny feature to start the new year off. Do come back and see who we talk to then. (Hint: It is a very well-known poet that somehow I had missed interviewing until now. You won't want to miss it.)