Posted in ESSAYS AND LITERARY JOURNEYS, POETRY, Uncategorized

FORM IN POETRY (SHORT TAKE ESSAY) By Su’eddie Vershima AGEMA

I am not a man overtly gifted in general structure and when it comes to strictly adapting to particular set forms – Haikus like what you have generally done here (well done Prof Kosover and the others of the Word Rhymes and Rhythm crew on Facebook, great job!) – I have to pass. But somehow subconsciously if you put your heart to it, you discover that there’s a way you can play with form especially as pertains structure.
My favourite structure when it comes to poetry is uniform lines: you know, same number of lines per stanza running through a poem. On the other hand you have another style where you can play then get lines work in ways people might take time to guess at: 5 lines in a first stanza, 6 lines in the next, 7 in the third and for effect, maybe continue in that light or get something running anti-clockwise. We can call this the progressive lined structure poems or retrogressive if you are going anti-clockwise.
The beauty of this is a certain neatness to the lines, a certain precision that can’t be missed.
Speaking of which, how does one get stanzas?
I should mention that I never really had much thought for structure or specific style. I would experiment and just break lines anyhow, do it any which way. Once looking through an old manuscript of mine, a mentor, Dr. Hyginus Ekwuazi told me sharply: ‘Ol boy, you know this thing isn’t dictated by the Holy Spirit o.’
Well, so there you have it. I know most of you might have done it before or something but why not try writing a well structured poem and making it a point of duty to have your poem beautifully rendered in neat structures?
I leave you with one of mine taken from my second published collection of poetry… Enjoy:

We longed for the warmth

We longed for the warmth
of the crackling hearth
glowing in our thoughts
we longed for the heart
of a home from lands of all sorts
a home of warmth, fire and comfort

the fires are burnt
the ashes fill the tent
of our souls
home equals holes
the ghost of a furnace burns in the hearth
but there are ashes sprinkled in our heart.

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Some all-rounded writer with the wits to turn anything and everything to words with inspiration... cheering to glory and on...

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