The Sound and the Poetry

Welcome to the Official Blog of Neez Dutz! (Wow!)

Today we will be teaching you about sounds and their effects on poetry (exciting!)

The following are interesting facts about sounds (YES!!)

• Poems are full of sounds and silences as well as words and sentences that are meaningful.
• Some poems use sound effects to create a mood or establish a tone.
• Certain letters and sounds can evoke feelings such as luxury and aggression
• When the auditory and literal definitions of certain words come together, the author can use these as tools to effectively communicate the meaning and intent of his work to the reader
• So to get the full effect of a many poems, you must read aloud - that way, you can pay attention to the vocal rhythms and articulate the sounds as the poem calls for them to be reproduced by the human voice.
• Poetry = vocal art, dependent on the human voice to become its full self.
• Some sounds are just used to create effects (like music in the background of movies), setting the mood.
• Onomatopoeia- a word that captures or approximates the sound of what it describes
• Punctuation, length of vowels, pace and pauses all help control the way we read so that we use our voice to imitate what is being described   

Here's an example of how sounds can affect the transformative poetry experience:

Without a proper grasp of the sound in poetry, you just get Ben Kingsley phoning it in:

Music and Poetry

• People often associate poetry with the music
• The lyric (a short, harmonious, and sometimes romantic poem) takes its name from the Greek practice of reciting and singing
• Many poems, especially during the Renaissance, are called songs
• Poets of legitimate skill should be able to hear, on instinct, the various pauses, pacings, alternations, and relationships which make up the sound structure of the poem
• This is akin to a musician’s natural instinct to count/hear rhythm
• Some poems are written to imitate/follow music

To the Memory of Mr. Oldham

Farewell, too little, and too lately known,

Whom I began to think and call my own:

For sure our souls were near allied, and thine

Cast in the same poetic mold with mine.

One common note on either lyre did strike,

And knaves and fools we both abhorred alike.

To the same goal did both our studies drive;

The last set out the soonest did arrive.

Thus Nisus fell upon the slippery place,

While his young friend performed and won the race.

O early ripe! to thy abundant store

What could advancing age have added more?

It might (what nature never gives the young)

Have taught the numbers of thy native tongue.

But satire needs not those, and wit will shine

Through the harsh cadence of a rugged line.

A noble error, and but seldom made,

When poets are by too much force betrayed.

Thy generous fruits, though gathered ere their prime,

Still showed a quickness; and maturing time

But mellows what we write to the dull sweets of rhyme.

Once more, hail and farewell; farewell, thou young,

But ah too short, Marcellus of our tongue;

Thy brows with ivy, and with laurels bound;

But fate and gloomy night encompass thee around.

Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore

Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,

So do our minutes hasten to their end,

Each changing place with that which goes before,

In sequent toil all forwards do contend.

Nativity, once in the main of light,

Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crowned,

Crooked eclipses 'gainst his glory fight,

And Time that gave doth now his gift confound.

Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth

And delves the parallels in beauty's brow,

Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth

And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow.

And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand,

Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.

Dirge

1-2-3 was the number he played but today the number came 3-2-1;

  bought his Carbide at 30 and it went to 29; had the favorite at Bowie but the track was slow—

O, executive type, would you like to drive a floating power, knee-action, silk-upholstered six? Wed a Hollywood star? Shoot the course in 58? Draw to the ace, king, jack?

  O, fellow with a will who won't take no, watch out for three cigarettes on the same, single match; O democratic voter born in August under Mars, beware of liquidated rails—

Denouement to denouement, he took a personal pride in the certain, certain way he lived his own, private life,

 but nevertheless, they shut off his gas; nevertheless, the bank foreclosed; nevertheless, the landlord called; nevertheless, the radio broke,

And twelve o'clock arrived just once too often,

  just the same he wore one gray tweed suit, bought one straw hat, drank one straight Scotch, walked one short step, took one long look, drew one deep breath,

  just one too many,

And wow he died as wow he lived,

  going whop to the office and blooie home to sleep and biff got married and bam had children and oof got fired,

  zowie did he live and zowie did he die,

With who the hell are you at the corner of his casket, and where the hell we going on the right-hand silver knob, and who

the hell cares walking second from the end with an American Beauty wreath from why the hell not,

Very much missed by the circulation staff of the New York Evening Post; deeply, deeply mourned by the B.M.T.,

Wham, Mr. Roosevelt; pow, Sears Roebuck; awk, big dipper; bop, summer rain;

Bong, Mr., bong, Mr., bong, Mr., bong.

The Word Plum

The word plum is delicious

pout and push, luxury of

self-love, and savoring murmur

full in the mouth and falling

like fruit

taut skin

pierced, bitten, provoked into

juice, and tart flesh

question

and reply, lip and tongue

of pleasure.

The Sound and the Poetry/ Mad Max: Poetry Road

GOODBYE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dirge (Dühr-Gēęe)

Mamaaaaaaaa

Life had just begunnnnnnnnnn 

But Now I've gone and thrown it all awayyyyyyy

MAMAAAAAAA 

OOOOHOOOHOHHHHH  

Thunderbolts and lightning VERY VERY FRIGHTENING ME