Caveat: Englynion #12-#13 “Expressions of sentiment”

(Poem #121 on new numbering scheme)

Three students said they hate me, just today.
That's what they say, to feel free
from the stresses of study.
Another student, leaving, left a note:
"For years," she wrote. "Your teaching
gave me a gift of meaning."

– more englynion penfyr. Note that the student’s quote is invented – no Korean ESL student writes in poetic forms – but I did receive a note with this type of message.

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Caveat: Englyn #9 “Immobilized”

(Poem #118 on new numbering scheme)

Dream feeling: being held down, like a moth,
pinned, rendered slothful. Look: brown,
piled leaves. So I wait. I frown.

The above is a syllabic poetic form called an englyn penfyr, a type of englyn, which is Welsh in origin but also written in English, historically, by poets with Welsh connections, such as W.H. Auden or Dylan Thomas.

I have decided this is the new poetic form I shall pursue obsessively, in sequel to my 99 nonnets. As best I can tell, I have posted 8 englynion previously on this blog, so this would be number 9. Englynion are not, typically, restricted to single stanzas – although they may be, too. However, for purposes of counting, I shall count each stanza separately, as it will help me to feel more prolific should I pursue enchained, longer poems.

CaveatDumpTruck Logo[daily log: walking, 7km]

Caveat: Nonnet #99 “Sufficient enumeration”

(Poem #117 on new numbering scheme)

Ninety-nine nonnets are sufficient
to show the possibilities
of the short poetic form.
Anyway, it's Fall now.
I have made enough
and I believe
I should stop.
I will
stop.

This is my last nonnet. I will not be posting daily poetry while I travel in the US over the next two weeks, but hopefully can renew the habit, with a new genre, upon my return to Korea.

[This is an automated, pre-scheduled blog post – I expect I’m somewhere over the Pacific, right now.]

picture[daily log: sitting, 9657km]

Caveat: Nonnet #92 “바!”

(Poem #110 on new numbering scheme)

A toddler child is staggering along
with his mother and grandmother.
The mom patters on with words
- typical mother-speak.
She points at some man,
says, "Bye-bye hae."*
The boy smiles.
He says
"Ba!"

– a nonnet
* linguistic note: the borrowing from English, “bye” (and “bye-bye”), is pretty fully nativized in Korean, used as an informal farewell by many people. “Bye-bye hae [해]” would mean “say bye-bye.” Of course, in Korean pronunciation, “bye” is two full syllables, “ba-i” (and “bye-bye” is four), and that breaks my poem, but anyway the vowel break is elided and diphthongized, so I’m going with the English pronunciation I guess.
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Caveat: Nonnet #90

(Poem #108 on new numbering scheme)

Skulls
and bones
populate
the imagery
that drifts out, unsought,
from those contemplations
which accompany the fact
that the dead cat I saw just now
seemed to be merely in calm repose.

– a reverse nonnet
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Caveat: Nonnet #89

(Poem #107 on new numbering scheme)

Let's imagine a dystopia:
a strange future where things are weird.
Unconsciousness is a crime
punishable by death.
The authorities
dislike darkness.
Don't get caught
sleeping
now.

– a nonnet
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Caveat: Nonnet #88

(Poem #106 on new numbering scheme)

Students congregate along damp streets
like water droplets in a mist,
a brownian shivering
on Fall's first chill evening,
their various worries
floating on words
across gaps
between
them

– a nonnet
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Caveat: Nonnet #87

(Poem #105 on new numbering scheme)

Hi,
sad cat.
What is it?
Did you get lost?
... looks like you're hungry.
I'm afraid to touch you.
You might carry some disease.
I saw you begging from those kids,
earlier. You seemed to be happy.

– a reverse nonnet
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Caveat: Nonnet #86

(Poem #104 on new numbering scheme)

Nothing comes easily, you know.
Well, I admit, I can forget
this terrible frustration
sometimes. Nevertheless,
simple stuff feels like
trying to make
a new poem
out of
dirt.

– a nonnet
picture[daily log: walking, 1km]

Caveat: Nonnet #85

(Poem #103 on new numbering scheme)

A strange madness took hold of his mind.
He believed he was made of glass.
"Please, do not touch me," he begged.
He made the best of it,
though, declaring that
transparency
was more pure;
the soul,
clear.

– a nonnet
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Caveat: Nonnet #84

(Poem #102 on new numbering scheme)

I saw a scary caterpillar
throbbing across the dull asphalt:
a green fragment of muscle,
alive like a zombie's,
step, step, step, step, step.
The little feet
writhe toward
waving
grass.

– a nonnet
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Caveat: Nonnet #83

(Poem #101 on new numbering scheme)

One day, an imaginary man
went to Duluth, seeking stories.
He stood on the mythic shore.
Gray-green waves gnawed the sand.
Some black flies spun doubts.
He built machines
with his words.
The lake
watched.

– a nonnet
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Caveat: Nonnet #82

(Poem #100 on new numbering scheme)

A failure of communication
with a few of my coworkers
caused me to tell a student
with a confident voice
the exact wrong thing.
She cried, asking,
"Teacher, why
did you
lie?"

– a nonnet
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Caveat: Nonnet #81

(Poem #99 on new numbering scheme)

As a first step, they cut out my tongue.
They removed the tumor, of course.
Then they put my tongue back in.
Nerves and vessels were fixed:
pieces of my arm
were repurposed.
So that was
a hard
year.

– a nonnet
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Caveat: Nonnet #80

(Poem #98 on new numbering scheme)

Trees
announce
silhouettes
and glibly grope
the impatient sky,
meanwhile insisting that
the greedy earth release them
so that they can then levitate,
but gravity's passion is too strong.

– a reverse nonnet
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Caveat: Nonnet #79

(Poem #97 on new numbering scheme)

As I do with regularity,
I rearranged my furniture
after getting home from work
yesterday afternoon.
I made piles of books.
The couch got turned.
Hordes of dust
bunnies
died.

– a nonnet
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Caveat: Nonnet #76

(Poem #94 on new numbering scheme)

Id,
ego -
both divine -
vagrant thoughts seek
apotheosis,
but meaning's in decline;
instead we make apopheny.
Behold the landscape: green blurs, black lines.

– a reverse nonnet
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