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Poetry         By Ron Wallace

 

Real poetry moves like a winter's leaf

caught in a cold, stiff wind

or a honeysuckle vine climbing a latticed frame

on May's front porch.        

.

It strikes like a copperhead,

a sudden blur of patterned skin causing hearts to race.         

.

It rhymes with the measured grace

and language of Shakespeare's numbered sonnets           

          or it takes off shifting rhythmically             

ambling with old Walt down the open road        

          free. 

.

You can't force it into another animal's hide;

it's alive and speaks with its own voice,

a wolf's growl, a sultry whisper.         

          It burns with the Fire and Ice of Frost. 

.

Real poems are not tame.

They peer into your gut through a falcon's eyes;

they come at you, leather-bound, carrying steel

curled in both fists           

          or touch you with an old friend's embrace

before parting. 

.

They may or may not be dressed in black,

but they carry themselves like Johnny Cash

out onto the stage,

and they hit as hard as Jack Tatum

driving air from a wide receiver's lungs. 

.

Real poetry lays us down in a lover's arms

or lifts us like a cowboy saddling a favorite pony.           

.

It lies its way to the truth

branded on the universal heart of man.  

.

Some poets pick up hammers and build their poems

from nails and wood,

or lace leather into ballads         

          sew fine cotton thread into sonnets.

Others take a chisel and carve songs from native stone,

and painted canvas becomes a poem in artists' hands                      

. 

while the lesser of our trade pluck words          

          from thin air

and cast them into space

praying they find a life their own          

          and learn to walk

                    among the castle clouds

 

 

Poetry delves into the nature of writing and expression, combined with the punch of reality that a notable poem delivers.  Ron Wallace writes of the hard edges that characterize true poetic style.  He examines the art of poetry from a variety of angles while maintaining a clear viewpoint and opinion.

 

Strengths:

 

In a catalog poem or list poem, we read a series of descriptions.  It is a technique often used by poets of all experience levels, and it can be the easiest type of poetry to write; however, many poets fall short when writing a catalog poem, because they stop once the list is assembled.  A great catalog poem needs poetic devices, a distinct voice, and depth within the images.  This poem has all of that.

 

The poetic devices used include personification (It strikes like a copperhead), paradox (It lies its way to the truth), and allusion (It burns with the Fire and Ice of Frost).

 

The distinct voice comes from a man of strength and earth.  Poetry takes the clear viewpoint that poetry is not for the weak of heart.  Ron Wallace's background and life in the working world come through in every word.  We know exactly where the poet stands.

 

The depth makes each image stand out, as moving nouns (hide, growl, whisper, gut, lungs, hammers) and active verbs (strikes, burns, peer, hit, build, carve) join forces for power.  We feel each line and see each picture painted with a wide brush.

 

Suggestions for improvement:

 

The opening lines do not foreshadow the masculinity and power of the remainder of this poem.  A leaf and a honeysuckle vine - garden images - fail to stand up to the required fierceness of the work.  I suggest omitting the entire first strophe, as the poem can easily stand without it, and a better opening would result:

 

It strikes like a copperhead,

 

Likewise, the ending takes a completely different tone - one of comparison and a near complaining voice.  At this point, after being immersed in the grit of true poetry, why would the reader care to know what a lesser poet might do?  There is a let-down sensation at the finish, which can easily be rectified by deleting the final strophe.  Thus, the new ending might be:

 

and painted canvas becomes a poem in artists’ hands.

 

For even more clarity, I suggest using the singular in an artist's hands.  Now we are left with a positive image as well as a sense of rest and completion.

 

This poem, unique as it is, deserves a more creative title.  The word poetry should be part of the title, but not the whole thing.  One approach might be to make the title a short but complete sentence - for instance, Poetry Hurts or Poetry Hammers.

 

Most Powerful Phrases:

 

Here, an entire copy-and-paste would work, as every phrase in the poem has clout.  Some favorites are:

 

a sudden blur of patterned skin

 

            Ron Wallace has built a perfect noun phrase with the impact of a verb phrase.  We see the blur and sense the fear.

 

You can't force it into another animal's hide;

 

            This phrase implies the idea that one poet cannot tell another what to write, and one poet cannot speak to all readers.  There is an individuality involved; we cannot deny this aspect of the art of poetry.

 

Others take a chisel and carve songs from native stone,

 

            The implanting of the word songs gives a sound to this line.  The reader can hear the pieces flying and hitting something solid.  Also, there is that undeniable reference native stone, which reminds us of Ron Wallace's first poetry volume, Native Son.

 

Poetry, with a slightly upgraded title and a touch of trimming, will likely live in poetic history as an exemplary catalog poem.  This is heady stuff, quite publishable.  Thank you, Ron Wallace.

 

Patty Zion, Staff Editor

dazzleu@windstream.net

 

 

 

copyright TJMF Publishing 2007