Let's speak about line breaks

Tsotha, "Roseate" for me suggests a big time storm about to brew but in the end is a dull dead gray as I think is suggested in the entire piece:

Clouds
BY DENISE LEVERTOV
The clouds as I see them, rising
urgently, roseate in the
mounting of somber power

(...)

I watch the clouds as I see them
in pomp advancing, pursuing
the fallen sun.
Denise Levertov, “Clouds” from Poems 1960-1967. Copyright © 1966 by Denise Levertov. Reprinted with the permission of New Directions Publishing Corporation, www.wwnorton.com/nd/welcome.htm.

Ah, there was more than those three lines... But this is a tricky poem. For me, anyway. I'm getting a strange message reading it. Thank you for posting this here, greenmountaineer.

I like the third stanza. There is something there relevant for our line-breaking thread, I think:

"as if death had lit a pale light
in your flesh, your flesh
was cold to my touch"


"in your flesh" (line 2) belongs to the sentence in line 1, and "your flesh" (line 2) belongs to the sentence in line 3. Yet the way the lines are broken allows line 2 to stand on its own: "in your flesh, your flesh".
 
I gained a different perspective on line breaks when I began reading about "The Black Mountain Poets" who believed the line should reflect the rhythm of a breath. I must admit ending a line in "the" sometimes still feels like fingers scraping a blackboard to me, but I think that has as much to do with the kind of poetry I read when I first began reading or in some cases just sloppy writing, of course. Someone may prove me wrong, but I don't Yeats would have ended a line with "the."

Once I began re-thinking the cadence of the line in my mind's ear, I responded differently. Here, I think, is a good example in a short excerpt from a poem by Denise Levertov:

Clouds

The clouds as I see them, rising
urgently, roseate in the
mounting of somber power
Yeats would not, however fridayam (tipping as he calls it) often does, takes getting used to, but notice what happens to the word "mounting" - it simulates the action of the word.
I suspect the penti when developed naturally reflected the rhythm of a breath as there is a tendency to come to some sort of stop at the end of the line. Ten syllables is about as far as you can take it, without breathing. Eleven if you are Italian. Notice what happens in French - 12- always a caesura.
Here I may either getting too esoteric or talking out of my ass, either way if you want to write, you must develop an extreme sensitivity to words, the exposed nerve of Baudelaire.
 
Yeats would not, however fridayam (tipping as he calls it) often does, takes getting used to, but notice what happens to the word "mounting" - it simulates the action of the word.
I suspect the penti when developed naturally reflected the rhythm of a breath as there is a tendency to come to some sort of stop at the end of the line. Ten syllables is about as far as you can take it, without breathing. Eleven if you are Italian. Notice what happens in French - 12- always a caesura.
Here I may either getting too esoteric or talking out of my ass, either way if you want to write, you must develop an extreme sensitivity to words, the exposed nerve of Baudelaire.

I agree. 10's a challenge for me; it feels like I'm forcing the line sometimes. Demure, however, pulls it off. Some of her blank verse about as good as it gets.

Sharon Olds (I'm paraphrasing here) in a radio interview up here said she thought she really started to write better when she did iambic tetrameter with variation.

It's funny you should mention fridayam. I was going to refer to him in my initial post. I do have a greater appreciation for his voice since reading the Black Mountain Poets.
 
I gained a different perspective on line breaks when I began reading about "The Black Mountain Poets" who believed the line should reflect the rhythm of a breath. I must admit ending a line in "the" sometimes still feels like fingers scraping a blackboard to me, but I think that has as much to do with the kind of poetry I read when I first began reading or in some cases just sloppy writing, of course. Someone may prove me wrong, but I don't Yeats would have ended a line with "the."

Once I began re-thinking the cadence of the line in my mind's ear, I responded differently. Here, I think, is a good example in a short excerpt from a poem by Denise Levertov:

Clouds

The clouds as I see them, rising
urgently, roseate in the
mounting of somber power

If you haven't read Levertov's article "On the Function of the Line," you might find it interesting.

A bit confusing to me at first, but by the end of the article, I had some take aways. Thanks for posting the link. I've been thinking a lot about this aspect of writing lately.
 
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