Warp and Weft ~ Images and Words: concrete poetry

Showing posts with label concrete poetry. Show all posts

Saturday, September 28, 2024

Ink Sweat and Tears - The Poetry and Prose Webzine - September 2024

Word and Image Feature - concrete poem: September 26, 2024

weeding out the truth this paradox of INtolerance

Artist's Statement:

The inspiration for this word cloud stems from exploring the arbitrary ways in which people look at the question of tolerant, versus intolerant, behaviours in the human and natural world. Weeding out fact from fiction in this volatile political climate can be challenging. Much like keeping a garden in check, we must choose what to keep and what to pull. The haphazard scattering of words illustrates the chaotic and myriad choices we make on a daily basis, as well as the anarchic nature of a neglected garden. The coloured fonts represent differences in gender, race, and religion as well as the diverse hues of weeds and wildflowers.

I think concrete poems add an interesting dimension to the haiku//senryu experience. Their visuals create a dynamic call-and-response effect between words and format, reinforcing the message by inviting readers to delve more deeply into the concept.

Thursday, September 07, 2023

Trailblazer Contest, 2023

Honoured to have the following concrete work selected in the tanka/kyoka category as one of three finalists (longlisted from 99 entries) in this "contest without winners"! My thanks to the judging panel for their selection and insightful comments below...

Comments from the Judging Panel: Hemapriya Chellapan, Kat Lehmann, Shloka Shankar, Richa Sharma, and Robin Anna Smith

It would not be an understatement to note that this concrete tanka puzzled and intrigued us the most at first glance. We felt like detectives trying to piece together the almost asemic-like marks in red until one of the panelists pointed us in the right direction; the marks are commonly used in proofreading. Here, the marks denote:

INSERT / CAPITALIZE / CLOSE THE GAP / DELETE / LOWERCASE / NEW PARAGRAPH / TRANSPOSE

The shape of the tanka mimics that of welling cutting pliers, commonly used for marking and trimming the meat in livestock such as pigs, goats, and cattle. If the poem were to be presented in the traditional s/l/s/l/l format, it would look something like this:

welling cuts

there is nothing left

to say to her

that hasn't already

been said . . .

Instead, the poet has chosen to create clusters of two, three, and four lines respectively, to show the biting action of the "cuts." This could be interpreted as an abusive relationship, perhaps between a mother and a daughter, on the brink of a complete breakdown in communication. As another panelist noted, the marks add to the sense of panic or mental confusion experienced by the persona. In this context, it would be interesting to look at the wordplay of "welling," used as a noun and verb here, causing them to emotionally "well up." They are constantly walking on eggshells, trying to watch what they say, but it doesn't matter—everything they say is turned against them, leading to an impasse. When the same fights are picked or triggered repeatedly, the responses become verbatim and, unfortunately, one starts to predict the next likely barb coming one's way. The deliberate choice to place the ellipsis at the end and not after "welling cuts" shows the resignation of the poet's persona.

This was one of the stronger tanka entries we received and is trailblazing for the risks it takes, both visually and conceptually.

Interview with me:

What inspired the poem?

I am inspired to write experimental poems rooted in trauma-based life experiences and news events, and this kyoka/tanka is an example of that practice.

What was your process for writing it?

The poem revolves around word association and the asemic-like structure of proofreading marks. Their colour is reminiscent of welling blood, and the marks resemble the varied shapes of physical wounds and scars. I chose to use ragged lines to emphasize this aspect, and the uneven blocks of words represent the way humans are inclined to compartmentalize overwhelming emotions. I think we have a tendency to edit trauma into bite-sized portions so that it becomes more easily digestible. If one is repeatedly subjected to emotional or physical abuse, the senses often become numbed as a coping mechanism. The second block of words can be taken literally or metaphorically, and the third block is meant to be ambiguous. The ellipsis at the end of the poem indicates resignation and it is a concrete visualization of the knowledge that there are more "cuts" to come.

cuts 1: emotional abuse

cutting comments meant to inflict maximum pain
cutting people out of one's life
cutting/ignoring others

cuts 2: physical abuse

human-to-human: using torture during war, the escalation of world and domestic violence
human-to-animal: using marking pliers to identify livestock, and the animal cruelty practices common in the production of our food
human-to-self: I was reminded of a friend who slit her wrists and the fact that cutting is particularly prevalent among teen girls.

cuts 3: writers' tools

cutting words: a short-form poetry technique
cutting: editing a writer's work ("kill your darlings")

How do you think the poem helps to push the boundaries of or contributes to the genre?

I hope the content and shape of this poem might encourage other writers to incorporate non-conventional visuals into their work, thereby extending the limits of the form, and broadening our idea of what is deemed to be suitable content.

What other forms, formats, or iterations did you consider, and why do you think the poem had to be written this way?

Though the initial poem was written as presented in the commentary, I quickly realized that this format was not challenging enough, and that it did not contain the gravitas for which I was striving.

Is there anything else you want to share about the poem or your writing practice?

I'd like to thank the panel for selecting this poem and for their thought-provoking, astute, and encouraging commentary.

I make art and write a little something every day, whether my muse is visiting or not, because I know the process will ultimately be cathartic, healing, and inspirational for me! This daily practice is a vital tool in helping to mitigate the isolating effects of chronic illness.

I was also delighted to discover that the following concrete work was longlisted from 314 entries in the haiku/senryu category, even though it was not ultimately selected as one of the 13 finalists:

Thursday, May 05, 2022

Trailblazer Contest, 2021

Honoured to have the following concrete tanka selected as 1 of 12 finalists (longlisted from 406 entries) in this "contest without winners"! My thanks to the judging panel for their selection and insightful comments below...

Comments from the Judging Panel:

Chrissi Villa: This tanka is not only visually compelling, with the jumbled arrangement of the letters of "capsized" and the upside-down reflection of the words of the whole poem, but is also poetically poignant.

Shloka Shankar: I recently read a poem by Jim Harrison titled 'Becoming,' and the opening lines, for me, truly encapsulate the emotions underlying this brilliantly crafted concrete tanka:

Nowhere is it the same place as yesterday.

None of us is the same person as yesterday.

We finally die from the exhaustion of becoming.

We all have to face the inevitable uphill battle of growing old and frailer as the years pass us by. The visual potency of this poem, seen as a mirror image, is somehow magnified, staring us straight in the face. What particularly struck me was L2: the "i" in lowercase is almost a depiction of helplessness, the image of being lost at sea, without any kind on anchor.

On the other hand, there is a quiet sense of acceptance that pervades this poem, making it all the more appealing and relatable.

Julie Bloss Kelsey: Strange's visual poem about the loss of health evokes a boat, with scattered letters over the surface of the water implying deeper problems lurking just beneath the waves. The placement of the letters in "capsized" - with "i" in the center - brings to mind a spinning vortex. This is reflected in the rest of the text - "sink deeper into the shipwreck of my body." The repetition of the vortex, both visually and conceptually, effectively implies that the subject of the poem is also falling deeper into depression over their situation. Expertly crafted.

Alan Summers: The use of I on its own line has me thinking of times when 'we' as an individual capsize, and the "i" is reduced by circumstances, and social pressure. Of course, health is always an issue, and sometimes it's not merely physical and physiological, but affected by external issues such as politics, war and famine, poverty, intimidation, and other circumstances beyond our control. The "i" needs to stand on its own line, as we must never lose sight of ourselves despite extraordinary times and peer pressure.

Interview with me:

What inspired the poem?

This tanka was inspired by my experience with chronic illness and the resultant physical and emotional trauma.

What was your process for writing it?

My daily writing practice helps me to shift focus away from the things I cannot control to the things I can! I keep a file of words and fragments that spark my imagination and interest. The word "capsized" was the driving force behind this poem.

What other forms, formats, or iterations did you consider, and why do you think the poem had to be written this way?

The first iteration of this tanka was written in the traditional five-line s/l/s/l/l form. Its final version emerged as a concrete poem because I wished to express the sentiment in a more dynamic manner. The scattered letters symbolize the feeling of being overwhelmed. Use of a lowercase "i" serves to emphasize loss and the myriad ways in which the marginalized and disabled are often made to feel small. The reflected letters are a metaphor for drowning.

How to you think the poem helps to push the boundaries of, or contributes to, the genre?

Invisible disability is often misunderstood, much like tanka, so the dialogue between these two subjects comes quite naturally. Debates surrounding the definition of these topics continue to evolve, and I'm excited to lend my voice to the ongoing conversation!