Those Charming Birds

All over the town, people are talking,
About the six dimensions,
Of these evolving freaks,
Whose thunderous voices,
At dawn and dusk,
Rock the Aotearoa, mountain peaks.
These bizarre cases
Of nature, some how, do enthrall.

Their facial structure,
So very small,
And nostrils, out of place,
Which cosmetic surgery,
Could erase, the mystery.

Their social ways of life, are very weird,
And their eating habits, smeared.
With a crotch, clutch and drop,
Of an egg, so big,
In their burrow of grass, and twig,
They lay in the ground.

They are copycats, and prowlers
Of the night, not easily found;
They work, when others are fast asleep.

With so many talents and gifts;
Their camouflage is unique,
And the tattoo patches, too sleek
On their chests, and bellies,
They wear, these honorary celebrities.

We are superstars now,
But bemoan the fact,
That we are hunted, by the paparazzi,
The ferrets, every dog, and cat;
Stalking us, in our natural habitat…

These terrorist bands, with covert and overt plans,
Are ruining our heritage, and our lands.

We are confused,
By the bright light,
You are calling us, fur ball hermits;
Yet you are saying, we have a great smell,
And much finesse,
Wearing a saggy dress…

Naturally shy, these foul descriptors,
Don’t lower their self-esteem;
For their awesome skills are very well entrenched.
The mystic god of the forest, Tane...
Smiles on their freakish charm,
And they are revered, across the land.

Some are icons with flightless wings,
Flying remarkably well on high,
The national emblem bears their name,
At the Olympic games, for fame,
And across the food chain, for capital gain.

As agile as ever,
They do the polka, and the haka,
With great mouths to holler,
All birds in the air,
All fishes in the sea,
Do tell us what this poet
From another land, touring our town,
Is talking about!

The barb talks,
Not about the fruits,
Nor about the kiwis;
Only about Kiwi Birds,
Found in beautiful Niu Tireni.

©Paterika Hengreaves
August, 2004/Hibiscus Coast, New Zealand

Throwing Poetics to the Wind

Donning in softness they caress,
With gentle touch of lips,
The tender, dancing tongs,
Hold fast, the vase of love.

The taste of sweetness, takes a plunge;
Down the slope, with an angel twist,
Upon the swans, of a setting sun,
Like soft mounds, upon a dusky cheer.

The velvet yield, and gentle drop,
The whispering raiment, cast aside...
Falls to ground, and spinning
Like a rose, treasured love unfolds.

Gliding through to the very core,
Sipping with delicate pauses, at oasis spring,
Near the centre, at the border of gems,
Amorously rest, in lingering laps.

The damp, fiery tongs are seared;
Dipping into the flowery urn,
To scoop the laving juice of desire,
On quivering leaves from branches high.

Softly, planting tiny kisses,
Across the apple of the eye,
With hordes of dancing butterflies,
To dance, the dance lovers keep,
On the hill, they roll and creep.

©Paterika Hengreaves
Spring 2006/Ohio, USA

Ode to the Ghost of Sam Lord

(Irregular Ode)

While in the air from Indiana to Detroit, I wrote this irregular ode after three days of seeing the city of Indianapolis, its Statues, Motor Speedway, the greatest in the world (heard so much about this motor speedway and watched numerous TV footage on various car racing events there, so had to see the real thing for myself) the Pyramids, a beautifully designed architectural building housing legal offices, and many other places of historical significance in the State of Indiana.

Those familiar with the legend of Sam Lord, the Celtic Bajan Plantation Owner who turned buccaneer should find this poem to be an interesting read...I hope...for Halloween. I know Bajans will be amused and so will you. Watch the video clip:



In Bimshire, the Castle stands on the land;
A Georgian fort, built by a Celtic man
Called Sam, a planter Lord who fooled them all,
With his wild songs, at the buccaneer’s brawl:
Bring me rum and spirits; watch how they fall
Under coconut palms, where lanterns shone,
Beneath dark moon; he cast his spell upon,
The ponderous beat, of the ebbing tide;
His tricks, and gooey treats he hid inside
Long Bay, with Atlantic swells, deep and wide;
With beaming flares, his evil ploy did sway
Sailors to anchor, in faked secured bay.

You know, treasure ships do give me a thrill;
My notions here this night, I must fulfill;
Merchants and pirates too, I take my pick
On their bloody bones, on rough rocks they stick;
Swirling in tumbling waves they come ashore,
On these precious, treacherous, rocks for sure,
Their treasures, my nightly pickings; I crave
For sailors, who dance in watery grave;
Derelicts of the sea, no longer brave.

Those blood-thirsty goblins, took all the loot;
Buried the sailors, with no gun salute;
The treasure, they hid, in the Castle ground
With eerie coconuts trees, all around
And to this day, it has never been found.

His ghost haunts, Cobblers’ Reef, on Halloween;
With eyes of green, his laugh is loud, and mean
Causing palm trees, to quake, shiver and shake,
And zombie sailors, to dance, when waves brake,
Upon those spooky lanterns’ blazing wake.

© Paterika Hengreaves
First released on October 28, 2006/Ohio, USA

Ode to the Buckeye Tree

(Homostrophic Ode in Iambic Pentameter Sexain of ababcc)
Since February, I have left behind,
The tropical shine to come to this place,
Where winter resting, brings much peace of mind,
Just to feel the Arctic wind on my face
In Cleveland Heights, and beyond Forest Hills,
I see seasons change with bounteous thrills.

Winter wonderland before my window,
Trees thick with dormant lines of fertile strand
On gray trunks like towers, fully aglow
In frozen wear in virgin snow they stand
Delicately balancing flowing air
They bow; these evergreens and pines with flair.

The thawing earth brings dandelions out,
With spinning wheels of fluff above the ground,
Ring in the spring and buckeye blazing shout,
Amid the trees, where many leaves abound;
Cardinals and jays perch, in bright array
Among the blooms they chirp and feed each day.

The lazy days of summer bring much fuss,
To back yard barbecues warm and cheery;
Beneath a smiling sky of blue caress
The “beautiful river” and Lake Erie,
A picture perfect nature paints the scene
Fish dance while squirrels sneak fruits from the green.

With palmate leaves buckeye trees stand so grand,
Deciduously so in Ohio,
These fetid buckeyes stall throughout the land,
With mystic stories told with con brio.
Huskless nuts, look like, the eyes of a deer
Disagreeable in taste I did hear.

With quintuple petals fused at the base,
Their showy candle-like blooms light the way
For pollinating insects swift embrace
Late in April and throughout early May;
On the buckeye wood, light, soft, weak and white,
Make crafty things, so eyes pop with delight.

Legends haunt the buckeye tree so we’ve got,
One nutty nut in the pocket brings luck,
Killing rheumatism right on the spot;
Where free leaves caught in ground-baked nuts were stuck;
And soapy buckeye tears cured cholera
During the mid nineteenth century era!

Sing Iroquois for the buckeye tree,
In Ohio Indians planted me.
Hetuck! Hetuck! Hetuck! Oh! I love thee,
There Brutus, the buckeye mascot we see
The emblem of the University,
And Ohio since nineteen fifty three.

©Paterika Hengreaves
August 2006/Ohio, USA


The State of Ohio is full of trees when compared with my native land. Wow! I have to say we need to start planting more trees on the island not only on Arbor Day. Indigenous ones I would say. Hope it is not too late for surely Barbados could do with more trees. I'm absolutely amazed at the rich vegetation and fauna that abound in this yankee State. The buckeye tree took my fancy and having been told that it is the State tree of Ohio I saw this as an opportunity to write a landmark poem called, "Ode to the Buckeye Tree. Native Americans of Ohio called the nut from this tree "hetuck" or "buck eye" for indeed, it looks like an eye of a buck.

THE ODE

Author's Comments

The Ode is a majestic and intricate form of lyrical verse unlike the epic and dramatic poetry which tells a story. The Ode, rather than depicting characters and actions, the poet’s narrator addresses the reader directly, portraying his/her own feelings, states of mind and perception.
There are many forms of Odes I have come across. So we have got

- Dorian or Choric Ode designed for singing.

- The Pindaric Verse which emerged from the Dorian or Choric Ode. In Greek literature, a poem designed for song, of various meters and of lofty style named after its creator, the classical Greek poet, Pindar. The Pindaric Verse though metrically complex, and varies from one ode to another, regularly consists of a similarly-structured strophe and antistrophe, followed by an epode of different length and structure.

In classical poetry, a strophe is the first division in the triadic framework of Pindaric Verse, corresponding metrically to the antistrophe in ancient lyric poetry. In modern poetry, a stanza or rhythmic structure of two or more verses arranged as a unit.

Antistrophe is the second division in the triadic framework of the Pindaric Verse, corresponding metrically to the strophe. Also, the stanza following or alternating with and responding to the strophe in ancient lyric poetry.

An epode is a type of lyric poem in which a long verse is followed by a shorter one, or the third and last part of an Ode, or the third part of a triadic Greek poem or Pindaric Verse following the strophe and the antistrophe.

Jonson used the terms: turn, counterturn and stand in place of the strophe, antistrophe, and epode of the Pindaric ode. The counterturn repeats the metrical pattern of the turn, while meter of the stand is varied. The pattern established in the first triad is then repeated in the remaining groups. Click here for an example.

- Aeolic or Horatian ode relates to or resembles the work and style of the Roman poet, Horace. This form of ode consists of a series of uniform stanzas, complex in their metrical system and rhyme scheme. The Greek version is called the Aeolic Ode. Horatian odes are characteristically less elaborate and more restrained than Pindaric odes. John Keats’ “Ode to a Nightingale” is an example of a Horatian ode. Click here to read his poem.

- The Irregular Ode is most commonly used in English poetry. It contains the lofty Pindaric style, but allows each stanza to establish its own pattern, rather than follow a regular strophic structure. William Wordsworth is exemplified by this type of ode. Click here to read his ode

- The Homostrophic Ode consists of a number of stanzas alike in structure and rhyme scheme; the poet is free to choose – the structure of the basic structure, its number of lines, line length, and rhyme scheme – in accordance with the demands of the contents.

- Epinicion is an ode in praise of a victory in the Greek games or in war.

- Anacreon Ode is a style created by the Greek poet, Anacreon. Convivial in tone or theme, it relates to the praise of wine and love, as in Abraham Cowley’s Anacreontiques. Click here to read Cowley's poems.

Not an American I was pleasantly surprised to learn that the National Anthem of the United States of America, “The Star Spankled Banner, Francis Scott Key’s 1814 poem was set to the song of the day, “To Anacreon in Heaven”, composed by John Stafford Smith as a drinking son for London’s Anacreontic Society. In 1931 it was officially adopted by the United States Congress as the National Anthem.

to read the words of this lovely ode, the Star Spankled Banner. Oh! I tell you live and you learn. Quite an interesting piece of facts, I’d say. I read all the words to the Star Spankled Banner and they are absolutely magnificent and the musical rendition awesome as well. It is a pity that one only gets to hear the first stanza at ball games. As the world stands now I think the time is right for all the words to this majestic anthem, the “Star Spankled Banner” is sung no cropping of the lyrics.

Based from the background knowledge I have on the various kinds of odes I took on the task of writing odes to coincide with some of the ode structures. However, I'm not ready for the Pindaric Verse. I did have a crack at the Horatian Ode, the Irregular Ode and the Homostrophic Ode as listed below. These are my recent but modest strivings so please be gentle with me...smiling.

Ode to Poetry (Irregular Ode)

Ode to a Buckeye Tree ( Homostrophic Ode in Iambic Pentameter Sexain with rhyme scheme ababcc)

Ode to a Hibiscus Bush (Horatian Ode in Iambic Pentameter with rhyme scheme ababcdedce)

Ode to a Swing Bridge Bulldozed (Homostrophic Ode in Septet with rhyme scheme abcddee)

Ode to the Ghost of Sam Lord (Irregular Ode)

The Cry of the Birdies

(In Tercet Tetrameter stanzas of abb)

Ah fluffing, puffing and picking
Out, each other‘s nose, eyes unfair;
Two birdies fighting in midair.

Ah fluffing, puffing and singing
Tweet-tweet-tweet! Give me back my share,
For it’s only right, fair and square.

Ah fluffing, puffing and tugging;
Give me the apple I saw first;
Juicy and red it dropped and burst.

Ah fluffing, puffing and striking
Adam’s head, lying nest to Eve;
That sneaky devil don't believe.

Ah fluffing, puffing and feuding;
Oh my! What a shameful display
In public, on this very day.

Ah fluffing, puffing and cuffing;
Feathers flying on the highway,
Dropped to the ground, dirty and grey.

©Paterika Hengreaves
April 22, 2006/Ohio, USA

THE NURSERY RHYME

Author's Comments

Nursery rhyme is a traditional song or poem taught to young children, originally in the nursery. The country of my birth was a British colony until it became a self-governing nation in 1966 and became a member of the British Commonwealth. This orientation quite naturally accounted for why our nursery rhymes were of European origin and because of the island's position as being one of the gateways to North America the influence of Americanized nursery rhymes were present. Those nursery rhymes taught in primary school stayed with me. When I became a mother in the post colonial era I recalled singing such nursery rhymes as: "Sing a Song of Sixpence", "Pop Goes the Weasel", "Ba Ba Black Sheep", "Jack and Jill", "Ring a Ring O' Roses, "Little Mary had a lamb" and many others. Traditional nursery rhymes are no longer taught in post colonial schools. Kids only know about them for their elders who would have experienced the indoctrination of the colonial era with its pluses and minuses. In the era of colonial rule, nursery rhymes in education were taught because rote learning played a significant role in classroom instruction. The educators of that time firmly believed that this poetic genre helped to a great extent in the development of vocabulary and rudimentary counting skills (e.g. Eeny, meeny, miny, moe"). In addition, specific actions, motion, or dances were often associated with particular songs.

I venture to say that there are some indigenous people around the globe, like those in New Zealand, with whom recently I have had the distinct pleasure of being in their midst for over nine months, would no doubt, have a different story to tell about nursery rhymes I suppose. If I might say that the Maoris and similar tribes consider music sacred, so that only the elders may sing songs and the songs are taught during sacred rituals in adulthood. So it is unlikely for these children to have these kinds of nursery songs which provide the topic of this dissertation. On this assumption you are free to correct me because we all know that there are exceptions to the general rule.

In contemporary society nursery rhymes have fallen out of favour for modern thinkers and educators see them as having negative connotations and prejudices, racial and otherwise. The new era nursery rhymes and fairy tales, because of this, are couched in "political correctness." Be that as it may, traditional nursery rhymes were looked upon as performing the functions of catharsis for children, or they allowed the children to imaginatively deal with violence and anger. As a product of the traditional nursery rhyme culture, I'd say this does hold much currency as I reflected now on my life experiences growing up in colonial era until reaching my middle teen years then having to bridge the gap as it were between the colonial and post colonial era. By the time I crossed the bridge into the independence era I was in the workforce as an educator having not reached the voting age of 21 years at that time. Now the voting age is pegged at eighteen years, a step in the right direction, having considered all possible things. I must say experiences of those two worlds made me the richer in so many ways but that is another subject. This I would like to say though, I'm glad I had the opportunity to teach my children ( now young adults) those traditional nursery rhymes and fairy tales handed to me in my early childhood education, an aspect which my children did not get in their early childhood education. As I sang these nursery rhymes or recited them along with their favourite bedtime stories by Uncle Arthur (The American, Arthur S. Maxwell) during their tender years, these precious moments provided me with opportunities to discuss with them my own early childhood experiences (lighting up their eyes like a Christmas tree, lol, as I recalled some of the things they considered weired, lol) values, which nowadays seem to be obsolete and the sensitive topics of prejudices in its various manifestations, as relative to our environment.

I adore nursery rhymes. So what is a nursery rhyme? A nursery rhyme is a short poem for children written in rhyming verse spiced up with a pinch of some folklore. Whenever I write a nursery rhyme I would test it out on my many great nieces and nephews who are at this juncture are at the nursery stage in their human development. Some of these kids are products of interracial marriages with awesome harmony among themselves (and that's how things should be). Truly, looking at these children of mixed ethnicity I say that civilization has evolved in many wonderful ways for bigotry has been given the boot. Yes, I've said it with no apologies because optimism has always been my forte, it still is. So what more is let for me to say! This for sure, the kid still in me does adore nursery rhymes, absolutely! This mindset gives me the inspiration I need to compose nursery rhymes.

Now that you have been a good audience, in staying with me as I chatted my way into your hearts I like very much to share one of my nursery rhyme poems with you entitled, "The Cry of the Birdies". This one has become a favourite with the kids in my family and indeed should be with the kids in your family, for kids will be kids wherever they are. Just click on the link on the right-side of this blog to read the poem. Thank you for your time and your comments. Cheers, Paterika.

MONODY in OCTET TETRAMETER

Author's Comments

The poem, "This Fort" is written in the form of the Monody in Octet Tetrameter style.

A verse consisting of four (4) metrical feet in English verse is known as a Tetrameter. In this poem each stanza contains eight (8) verses thus making each stanza an Octet or Octave. The last two verses in the Octet are written as couplets. In previous writings explanations were given for couplets. Now the question to you is this: Can you tell me if these are closed or opened couplets? Place your answer with your comments and I shall get back to you on this.

You should notice as well that all the verses in this Monody poem are 4 feet long. In poetry, a Monody refers to a poem in which one person laments another's death. You should see that in this poem rhymes appear at the end of all the verses. They are placed there for the purpose of echoing the end of another line of verse. End rhymes are the most common. These end rhymes occur in a rhyme scheme of abcabcff. Do you see any internal or middle rhymes in this poem? Please let me know and I'll tell if your right or wrong in my return comment to you. So let's trade knowledge here. One more thing, do you recognize any feminine or masculine rhymes in this poem? What are they? Now have fun until my next blog post. Cheers!

A Widow's Torment

Eleven years he passed away
His frozen frame in bed of clay
Such buried treasures are so cold
My ways and fashion he did mole
This handsome bobby was sincere
Now World Cup games are here this year
Hear I no more my lover's call
Nor wash the pajamas of Paul.

He taught me the rules of cricket
And gave me a season ticket
To view a field set specific
His line and length were terrific
Hopes held high for a Windies win
I saw leg-before and off-spin
Now clad indeed with widow's weeds
My loving mate no longer breathes.

Memories’ grief is awful sad
This, I've pondered with mom and dad
Him crossing glory's open door
Abandon nights for me in store
Seeing him on his dying bed
These few last words to me he said
"This fort I cannot hold again"
Rain drops fell from the eyes of Payne.

(June 12, 2006)
©Paterika Hengreaves

Blissful Countryside

I just hate the rapid life in suburbia;
The strife in foreign lands including Serbia;
I like the singing of the wind in trees with birds;
I want very much to hear the sounds made by curs.

The scent of boiled sugar sailing the atmosphere;
To ride in a dray pulled by a galloping mare;
Pastoral living is a blissful way of life,
Entwined with nature and a mate that is my wife.

Reflect with me on the awesomeness of the land,
And ponder why concrete jungles are in demand;
Protect the environment, the land where we stand;
No polluting, and no wild slashing would be grand.



























Now we behold the miracle of creation;
Slaves are no longer on the plantation;
Free at last to share equally the lovely view;
Picking coconuts and bananas, clad with dew.


























Reminisce I must, as I sit here on this porch,
Hoping for rains to come and drive away the scorch.
Alas, pastures, hillsides, fields and gardens are green,
With good food for every living thing fat or lean!

© Paterika Hengreaves
January 2000/Barbados

Undying Love

(Prayer Poem)

Before

Thy throne I kneel

In prayer to ask of Thee

That you will heal my wayward soul

Of the sins striking so hard at the core

At thy feet I come again Lord

Your endless love I seek

So many times

Before

© Patricia D Hendy

April 2005/Barbados

Iambic Tetrameter Sexain in Couplets

Author's Comments

Let's look at the following terms, though not in the order presented:

Closed Couplet
End Rhyme
Feminine Rhyme
Iambic Tetrameter
Internal Rhyme
Masculine Rhyme
Middle Rhyme
Mono-rhyme
Open Couplet
Rhyme Scheme
Sexain
Simile
The Rhyme
The poem, "That Name" is written in rhyming couplets. A close examination shows that use is made of the closed couplet and the open couplet. How do we describe these couplets?

A closed couplet emerges when the sense and syntax is self-contained within the two lines.

An open couplet emerges when the thought is carried beyond the rhyming lines to end at any point in any line of a subsequent couplet.

A simile is a figure of speech that expresses a resemblance between things of different kinds. Similes are usually formed with 'like' or 'as'. Can you identify any similes in the poem, "That Name?"

A rhyme scheme is the formal arrangement of rhymes in a stanza or poem. The poem, "That Name" has a rhyme scheme of aa bb cc. The rhyme is the correspondence of two or more words with similar sounding final syllables placed so as to echo one another. The rhyme is used to produce sounds appealing to the reader's senses as well as to unify and to establish a poem's stanzaic form.

The end rhyme is rhyme found at the end of a line of verse to echo the end of another line of verse and is the most common. The internal rhyme or middle rhyme is a rhyme between words in the same line of verse.

A verse consisting of four (4) metrical feet is known as a Tetrameter. When the verses are written in predominately in iambic with four (4) feet it is called an Iambic Tetrameter.

A Sexain has a stanza of six (6) verses.

A rhyme occurring in words of one syllable or in a stressed final syllable is known as a masculine rhyme. Can you identify any masculine rhymes in the poem, "That Name?"

In a poem where all the verses have the same end rhyme is called a mono-rhyme.

Feminine rhyme is when a rhyme occurs on an unstressed final syllable. Feminine rhymes are double or dissyllabic rhymes and are common in the heroic couplet. Are there any feminine rhymes in the poem, "That Name?"

Iambic Pentameter , Quatrain

Author’s Comments


This post has been updated. Click on the links below

http://poetrydish.blogspot.com/2009/09/english-poetry-versification-part-i.html

http://poetrydish.blogspot.com/2009/09/english-poetry-versification-part-ii_20.html