Good ev’ning or mornin’! Welcome to our tenth month of poem-ing.
We’ve a rough ride this year -through loosening up, parody, forms, meter, and word choice.
Now, we’re facin’ the roughest bull ride this side o’ the Mississippi: free verse.
Writing freely, without a form, is like opting for bareback riding on an unbridled stallion. You really oughter not; and, if you’re that determined, you really oughter know what you’re doing.
But this is Anyone Can Poem! I’m not here to warn against such idiocy; I’m here to teach you how to look good doing it!
First, let’s make sure you’re registered for the right event. What is a free verse poem?
Free verse is an open form of poetry, which in its modern form arose through the French vers libre form. It does not use consistent meter patterns, rhyme, or any musical pattern.
–Wikipedia
It’s different from blank verse, which is taking a metered form and intentionally not rhyming. Free verse is also different than mishmashmess verse*, where you write whatever you want to and how.
Most free verse arises from an emotionally-moving experience we feel compelled to express in a poem. We awake at midnight, remembering our first (lost) love. We taste the first warmth of springtime against our skin during a morning walk. We fall head-over-heels for another person. We savor the agony of heartbreak when he or she doesn’t reciprocate.
Then, we pull the floating snippets of emotions down to the page. We feel that the words must not rhyme or conform to a pattern in order to express what we felt.
That’s great! I’m here to step in about now; pause the stallion-riding, and offer up a few pointers of why you have the inexplicable feeling that you’re actually seated backwards and wearing a prom dress and heels.
It’s simply because your free verse poem tricked you. It told you it needed to be mishmashmess when, in fact, it still needs form. -Not a bridle, per se; but definitely an arena within which to ride, and definitely a movement to the animal on which you sit. See: a lost-love poem must read like a beating heart. A nature poem about walking through springtime must read like a walking gait. New love must use long, slow-moving words like thoughtfulness and consideration at the start but short, exciting words like heat and touch as our feelings heighten.
So, please take your free verse poem. Go on: take it.
Now, I want you to shape it exactly the way you want it to read by changing the formatting.
If you wrote I saw a dove it alighted on my hand and frittered there, do you really intend that as a run-on sentence? Or, do you read it as:
I saw a dove;
it alighted on my hand
and frittered there
Or, maybe you even read it as:
I saw
a dove.
it
alighted on
my hand and
frittered there.
Use commas, semi-colons, periods, and hyphens to create small pauses. Use line breaks and new paragraphs to create longer pauses and new thoughts.
Then, share what you’ve done via the submission form (where only I will see it and respond) or in the comments section below (where only everyone may see and respond).
Go ahead. It’s easier than you think. And, it’s the first step toward a free-verse poem you’ll love. I promise.
Submissions are now closed. Find our latest challenge to enter.
—–
©2021 Chel Owens
*I made up the term mishmashmess verse. Don’t look for it.
Carrot Ranch Literary Community 
Reblogged this on OPENED HERE >> https:/BOOKS.ESLARN-NET.DE.
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Thanks for sharing, Michael!
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Dear Chel,
I enjoyed this post and not just because you posted it. Free verse can be tougher than a poem with “rules”. Some come out that way but I never really thought about why or what type of poem comes out free verse. I know that sometimes without plan a poem finds its own form, a rhyme or a rhythm shows up on its own. But some poems don’t invite rhyme or meter.
Here’s one I wrote for Six Sentence Stories recently. I will share how it came to me and how I posted it. Then I will share our friend Doug’s suggestions for it. He was generous to offer the suggestion, which I declined to take, but what do you think?
Blanketed (1)
He wrapped around her
a tolerable weight
said it was love
and she wanted it to be
blanketing them over
time felt it turn scratchy and thin
he pulled it tighter
pressed she wanted it to be
love but shivered underneath
the fraying cover like her heart
came apart into ragged pieces.
One he tied around her oaken throat
threadbare shreds her gossamer wings
with one last square he wiped his eyes
cried ‘This is love that was
that is,
I wanted
it to be’.
****
Blanketed (2)
He wrapped around her
a tolerable weight,
said it was love.
And she wanted it to be
blanketing them
(but) over time felt it turn scratchy and thin
He pulled it tighter,
pressed.
She wanted it to be love
but shivered underneath.
The fraying cover,
like her heart,
came apart into ragged pieces.
One he tied around her oaken throat;
threadbare shreds (wrapped) her gossamer wings
With one last square he wiped his eyes,
(as he) cried,
‘This is love that was,
that is.
(what) I wanted
it to be.’
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A huge reason why I hesitate to say, “Free verse MUST be *this*” is that the ‘meter’ of the poem needs to come from the intended pattern the poet writes and the way she thinks.
On that subject, I wouldn’t suggest exactly what Doug did. 😀 I think he’s trying to suggest some consistency of construction with that first insertion, which I would -in “a tolerable weight
said it was love”
you start “said it was love” on a new line, thereby using the line breaks to introduce a new thought, but at “blanketing them over
time felt it turn scratchy and thin”
you have “time felt it turn…” continuing from the line above.
So, I would introduce new thoughts each line instead of continuing a sentence from before (unless it forms its own thought).
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Thanks! Maybe this is better. I got rid of the internal rhymes that had crept into the first version too
Blanketed
He wrapped around her
a tolerable weight
said it was love
and she wanted it to be
love
blanketing them
over time
she felt it turn
scratchy and thin
he pulled it tighter
pressed
she wanted it to be
love
but shivered underneath
the fraying cover like her heart
threadbare ragged pieces
which he tied around her oaken throat
wiped his eyes with one last shred
cried, ‘This is love that was—
that is,
I wanted it to be’.
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Wow. That’s just what I wanted, D. Perfect.
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Thanks to Doug and to you for pushing me to pick up this poem that wasn’t really finished. This time I did listen and prefer the revised one. Thank you for the input and prompt.
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Enjoyed the poem, the process and the revision. Craftily done.
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Great demonstration of productive peer critique, which is to improve a piece of writing. D., this is a moving free verse. Love what you did with parentheses.
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Snow Fall Away
It comes in layers,
wet snow,
on the steps,
smoke swirling in the frigid air,
the old man sleeping rough
in the doorway,
the dreams of time
still drink warm coffee
at the corner café,
the one Maxie used to own
but left it to his brother, Tommy,
when he died.
Tommy never was a business guy.
He has run it into the ground.
It’s on the block now
And will be sold.
Probably for condos.
Then, there will be no place
In the neighborhood
to get a good cup
of hot joe.
Cheap.
It all comes in layers,
dreams rained out,
smoke swirling in the frigid air,
the old man still sleeping rough
until the wagon comes.
http://www.engleson.ca
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Beautiful the way this poem becomes as unraveled as the lives in this old neighborhood.
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Excellent!
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[…] Carrot Ranch Saddle Up Salloon/ Anyone Can Poem 10 Free verse (see prompt) “Free verse is an open form of poetry, which in its modern form arose through the French vers libre form. It does not use consistent meter patterns, rhyme, or any musical pattern.” -(Wiki) Imprompt; The Office Think like a novelist, write like a poet.// Today I want you to create a space, get to know it, then write about something you find there. …see prompt…//Put yourself in a place. Discover. What do you see? 111 Image credit; Vrolans @ Pixabay //For the visually challenged reader, the image shows arches of an old brick building and steps leading down. From the arches you can see some part of the building too. […]
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From three prompts, this second version is 99 words 🙂
Another Ancient European Town
The town square in the little Italian town
Seems carved out of the mountain;
All the buildings, stairs and passages – light stone
Polished with age; could it be marble?
There no earthen dirt so
Every heal of solid shoes echoes
The space is made smaller sellers –
All the vendors voices compete with buyers
Will the buyers, the tourists be aware, beware…
Whose lives behind those thick walls?
Who traverses the maze like narrow alleys
To see a neighbor, or visit the church there?
Even in the heat the stone was cold
Shadows constantly changing,
Leaving only whispers of impressions…
© JP/dh
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Great, Jules!
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I enjoyed your explanation of free verse, Chelsea. I hadn’t realised it was so complex.
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Complex yet simple. Try it!
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One day …
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Today!
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A great lesson in free verse. It is deceptively simple (like writing a novel). But layers matter.
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You are so right!
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Reblogged this on ShiftnShake and commented:
Did you know that every first Monday Chel Owens offers a poetry prompt and more at the Saddle Up Saloon? The more is a conversation about different poetry forms and she will provide feedback on your poem either privately or publicly. With a little encouragement it’s true, anyone can poem.
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Chel,
Thanks for the lesson. Not sure this fits, but it’s how I spent the last few weeks with a friend.
Experienced With a Friend
mammogram, ugh
a callback
fear trickles in
what was detected
another view
a biopsy scheduled
fear increases
it isn’t cancer
whew
but it doesn’t belong
must be removed
confused
fretting while waiting
too long a time
get it out
so
I can keep going
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There is no ‘fits,’ only the verse that flowed freely and some attempt to create the pauses of your mind.
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Great article, here is my attempt at free verse.
A New Day
Great article on Free Verse, here is my attempt
A New Day
Today.
A new day.
Starting over,
again.
It doesn’t matter.
I’ll continue,
day after day.
Hopeful,
this time will
be different.
It won’t,
I know better, but
I have to try.
If I don’t, I’d be
admitting defeat.
The sun rises –
and sets –
and rises –
and sets –
I wake up,
it’s still there.
In my chest,
in my bones.
Always there, like
background noise.
Still,
you haunt me.
I can’t,
I won’t,
let you go.
The new moon –
waxing –
full –
waning –
I close my eyes,
it’s still there.
Each heart –
beat / beat / beat
A reminder I’m
only half alive.
It should have
been me,
not you,
laid shallow (sigh)
on that hill.
The seasons –
Become years –
Strung into decades –
A lifetime –
Today.
A new day.
Starting over,
again.
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This is an excellent free verse poem. Thank you for sharing!
You have several good poetic elements, like that beat/beat/beat and the spacing for a new thought.
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Thank you.
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[…] https://carrotranch.com/2021/12/06/saddle-up-saloon-anyone-can-poem-10/ […]
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Thanks, Reena!
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YES, BUT..
Yes, you were nice to me today
but why do
you expect
that I forget
verbal blows
and barbs
you damaged me with
and move ahead
forgetfully whole
holding splinters together
with imagined glue
knowing
It will fall apart
when I stop
pretending
you are normal
and I’m whole
Yes, you were nice to me today
and on many other days
long before
you imposed
expectations
crushed my free spirit
blamed me
for wrongs
not committed
you made
allegations –
the life lived before
came undone
how do I believe
it won’t happen again
The sun can shine
Sorrows won’t rain
Yes, you are nice to me today
but tomorrow is another day…
Reena Saxena (c)2021
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Great work, Reena. Powerful words.
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Thank you, Chel!
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This is an amazing poem, Reena.
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Thank you so much, Roberta!
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Excellent work so far, poets! We’ll be looking at free verse into more depth with the next month, so keep throwing what you have out there and spacing it the way you picture its being read.
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[…] thing, I’m still exploring a lot of old posts and such. This week I shared a poem with Saddle Up Saloon: Anyone Can Poem with Chel Owens at the Carrot Ranch Literary Community. Well didn’t that take me down the […]
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[…] posted for critique at Carrot Ranch Literary Community‘s Saddle Up Saloon: Anyone Can Poem with Chel Owens.Photo credit: Brett Sayles via Pexels.Copyright 2021 Greg […]
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Here you go… can’t wait for the masterful pointers (for once I’m being serious)
There Yet
I moaned, as a child
If made to go on a walk.
‘It’s good for you,’ he’d say.
As if I cared.
Those miles,
Wasted space in a day.
Each step a trial
Each foot a mile.
Pointless to ask, ‘Are we there yet?’
We never were.
*
Later, lost in my inarticulacy
Him with his opinions, me with my frustrations,
I walked away.
Into a manhood
Of work, love, marriage.
I walked down the aisle
And he grinned.
Fit to burst.
Both of us men,
Walking around each other.
This new status quo,
Never getting us anywhere…
*
One day, a call.
‘I’m going on a walk.’
‘Where?’
‘Just a walk. Would you…?’
*
It’s never ‘just’ anything,
Not with him.
But I joined in,
On the outside of his companions.
Walking and watching:
The laughter, the ease, the baggage easily shared.
I was sad when it ended.
‘Have we got there already?’
‘Not yet,’ he’d say, even when we had.
*
Other walks followed
And we walked ourselves
Until we met somewhere beyond our past,
Somewhere where understanding resides.
*
For years we walked,
Into the distance,
Across paths and our past,
Finding views and vistas,
Friendship and love.
*
I still walk.
He’s there.
Somewhere.
These days, he’s the one who listens.
And I no longer want to know if we’re there yet.
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Thanks, Geoff! I’m waiting to masterfully point until next month. Sit on it for now.
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Yeats fine. The build up of tension will do me good.
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[…] Chelsea has encouraged us to write some free verse. I’d not thought I would have a subject but then I got talking about how my relationship with my father changed as a result of us beginning a series of long distance walks after her retired in the 1980s. This is the result. If you’d like to give free verse a go and have the benefit of Chel’s insightful thoughts (she’s done wonders on other of my poems) click here […]
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[…] shared your free verse poem with the sort of pausing you want it read with. Now it’s time to get more nitty-gritty. I want you to look at everywhere you’ve done a […]
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