Diane Seuss; or when is a sonnet not a sonnet?

[Leaf]

Thanks, TqB.

There's quite a lot to do in tree surgery at the moment, but I'll take a look soon. I get tired sometimes, because I'm over a hundred years old.

In the meantime, here are a few thoughts on the sonnet.

I'm not overly keen on minimal punctuation, because it takes away my enjoyment of reading.

As soon as I encounter 'me too' in line 1, I think of the Me Too movement, which is a distraction.

'Fact' reminds me of Claudia Winkleman, and it's odd to hear CW out of context.

I like the internal rhyme of 'lose' and 'blues'.

The sentence beginning 'Skeptical still' is more interesting than anything that comes before it. I think the quotation marks each side of the fairy tale title could be deleted, to fit with the lack of punctuation everywhere else.

The 'Scratching myself bloody' bit is okay too.

I'm a bit lost towards the end, and the French/German vocab suggests that Seuss is an academic who's experimenting with her writing. It's just a bit bizarre.

This isn't a fashionable interpretation, I'm sure, but that doesn't bother me. I still prefer a lot of the stuff I've read on PigPen, including your 'Spring Lament'. That was good, because it felt honest; it was you. The Seuss sonnet doesn't feel true.

[TranquillityBase]

Thanks (on behalf od D.S.  ) for the read and comments.  Sorry to hear about "me too" because those lines really got me.  But it happens to me too (no pun intended).  Can't think of an example off the top of my head, but poor language has to answer for so much!

I'm still not sure why I like her style so much.  Just started her second book; we'll see if the infatuation holds.

a few minutes later**************************************************************************

You mention you liked poems with honest feelings.  I think you hit on something about Seuss.  She is (in all the poems I've read) very detached from what she is saying and describing, almost like a doctor.  It's a bit cold-blooded.  But I still like them.

[Leaf]

You're welcome, TqB. Yes, a bit of a bad start there with Me Too. But I suppose, for some readers, the movement wouldn't come to mind.

Do you like stream of consciousness-type poetry? To be honest, I'm not sure whether that's even the right term here. I think Seuss intends to appear spontaneous and the lack of punctuation is a part of that.

It's interesting that you find Seuss detached from her words. I hope you continue to enjoy her poetry 

[TranquillityBase]

I like stream of consciousness anything 

[TranquillityBase]

I finally got around to reading her prize winning collection "frank: sonnets".  It's quite impressive.  I see the collection as a pretty bold interpretation of what makes a sonnet.  As far as I can tell, the only rule she followed is that each poem is 14 lines.  Beyond that, I see no pattern or form.

I also decided I need to educate myself on poetry written since the 1980s, so I'm thinking of going through the list of Pulitzer Price/National Book Award books for poetry since then.  I don't read nearly enough modern poetry.  I tend to stick to dead poets.  My bad.

[brynmawr1]

I'm not going to weigh in on the sonnet question.  Mostly cause I've read a number of poems called sonnets that aren't sonnets so I think that the term has been bastardized by modern poets to lend a sense of sophistication.  It's really unnecessary as the poems are quite good.

Anyway, I do like Diane Seuss' poems.  It turns out that she wrote one of the first poems that resonated with me when I got started called "Backyard Song".  I had never heard of her and am not good with remembering authors anyway so didn't realize it until TqB's post and I searched some of her poetry.  Blah, blah I posted it below.  Funny, now that I've read more I would maybe cut the last stanza though I think for her that is the point of the poem.  What do you all think?

Backyard Song
BY DIANE SEUSS

Since it’s just me here I’ve
found the back and stayed
there most of the time, in
rain and snow and the
no-moon nights, dodging the front
I used to put up like a yard
gussied and groomed, all
edged and flower-lined, my
bottled life.
Uncorked, I had a thought: I
want the want
I dreamed of wanting once, a
quarter cup of sneak-peek
at what prowls in the back, at
what sings in the
wet rag space behind the garage, back

where the rabbits nest, where
I smell something soupish, sour and dank and it’s
filled with weeds like rough
cat tongues and
the wind is unfostered, untended,
now that it’s just me here and
I am so hungry
for the song that grows tall like a weed
grows, and grows.

When I was a
little girl
my ma said a woman gets
tired and sick
of the front yard, of
kissing the backside of a
rose.

[TranquillityBase]

I'm not going to weigh in on the sonnet question.  Mostly cause I've read a number of poems called sonnets that aren't sonnets so I think that the term has been bastardized by modern poets to lend a sense of sophistication.  It's really unnecessary as the poems are quite good.

Anyway, I do like Diane Seuss' poems.  It turns out that she wrote one of the first poems that resonated with me when I got started called "Backyard Song".  I had never heard of her and am not good with remembering authors anyway so didn't realize it until TqB's post and I searched some of her poetry.  Blah, blah I posted it below.  Funny, now that I've read more I would maybe cut the last stanza though I think for her that is the point of the poem.  What do you all think?

Backyard Song
BY DIANE SEUSS

Since it’s just me here I’ve
found the back and stayed
there most of the time, in
rain and snow and the
no-moon nights, dodging the front
I used to put up like a yard
gussied and groomed, all
edged and flower-lined, my
bottled life.
Uncorked, I had a thought: I
want the want
I dreamed of wanting once, a
quarter cup of sneak-peek
at what prowls in the back, at
what sings in the
wet rag space behind the garage, back

where the rabbits nest, where
I smell something soupish, sour and dank and it’s
filled with weeds like rough
cat tongues and
the wind is unfostered, untended,
now that it’s just me here and
I am so hungry
for the song that grows tall like a weed
grows, and grows.

When I was a
little girl
my ma said a woman gets
tired and sick
of the front yard, of
kissing the backside of a
rose.

I find her experiment in sonnet writing quite liberating.  But I'm not a fan of restrictive forms, so that's just me.

I see what you mean about the last stanza.  The poem could definitely and sucessfully end with the next to last stanza.  But I do like that last stanza, even though it seems like an afterthought.