Two things have held a fascination for me for as long as I can remember: foreign cultures and words. I've often wondered if my parents didn't purchase me in some far away corner of the Earth. My family was typically American from the word " go". I didn't fit the mold. I believe that you could parachute me into any part of the world, and I would not feel lost: with my fascination with words and an inherent empathy for people of all nations, I would soon be on friendly terms with the culture and language. It all started early...Here are a few anecdotes from my word associations:
The family always sat down together around the dinner table when I was growing up. This allowed for lively verbal exchanges, usually friendly, sometimes in heated discussion, often playing guessing games: "I'm thinking of something that starts with an 'a' - in the kitchen" ...and thus would begin the 20 yes/no questions until the object was guessed and the winner would "think of something" ...and so on. I remember being unusually interested in the letter of the moment, and my active imagination would soon be pulling zillions of words out of my mind, starting with the letter in question - more words than there were objects in the kitchen.
My word-eager mind would continue on the theme for days . . .
Annabelle Atlee was awfully anxious
While acting the part of an ant in the play
So amazingly artful and able was she,
That she lives in an ant hole even today!
And as I grew older, the words just kept "happening". . .
An accumulation of acetate ascetically applied
To the artist's achievement assures it won't die.
But assuredly acid, though added most aptly,
Aggrieves all the pigments, making them hide.
Now comes the real consideration: rhyming. I couldn't stop doing it! I had to go through the entire alphabet, letter by letter, rhyming as I went, until I was satisfied.
I braved a band of bears
Bearing bananas in their hairs
Coming back from the beach
Going forth to their lairs
When I boldly said "boo!"
They scattered their fares
Now the bouncing bananas
Are mine - I declare!
Clever Carlos Cruz cures camels of their coughs
By calmly massaging the callouses on their hooves
Quite carefully he catches them by campfire at night
Dressed in camouflage to keep them from fleeing in fright.
With candy-covered cap and a long, flowing gown
He conjures up magic to keep them all down
On a quick flying carpet he flies through space
With camel-hoof ointment in his camel-doc case
But coughs he can't cure, whenever he meets
A camel that's wearing its football cleats
His camels must undress from toes to head
For massaging a cleat gives him callouses instead!
Do you "C" what I mean?
In school, I learned that this was called "poetry". It was actually an accepted and honored use of the common word. I was hooked. It wasn't until many (many!) years later, that I began reading the poetry of other "non-famous" poets, and imagine my disappointment at finding not only a lack of rhyme, but a total disregard for rhythm and, in my estimation, common sense in getting the message across.
When did they change poetry? When did poets stop rhyming?
Keats and Byron did it. Longfellow was particularly adept at it. Shakespeare took it to new levels of literary excellence. Even writers from other countries do it. Ancient Latin and Greek are not ignorant of the art. In my opinion, it takes a lot more skill to express yourself with choice words in rhyme and still make sense. I put this to the test when I wrote the "poem": Of Such is Hope . It took about ten minutes to write as I sat in the faculty room at our local college between classes. I just looked around me and put down the first words that came to mind as I observed my surroundings - no searching for "the right word" - I just let it all fall out of my head, impromptu. When I submitted some poetry for one of my art sites, this was the one they chose. I'm outnumbered it seems. See examples of my "no rhyme or reason" poetry: click here