Hello, Rula just brought this workshop to my attention. I would like to join if not too late. Abstracts are something I have found difficulty dealing with in the past so any useful pointers would be appreciated.

Have to go get the leader. Back in a minute.

like to join your workshop. It sounds interesting! Abstract words and poetry are something I feel like I should know something about. ~ Gee

The word abstract brought me here and I am surprised to read my name listed in the participants...may be my abstract mind doesn't remember :)

Best wishes for the work shop..

Regards,

Whether directly or otherwise you will throw your thoughts into the pool. That's a command, dontcha know.

Would the following verses qualify as abstract?

ready to be writ on their velvety petals
verses with ecstatic chimes

Regards,

i'm here. A little confused when I see Rula as workshop leader instead of Scott when I clicked "Find Workshop" Hope this workshop will do me lots of good.

Alid

I am here. Well get started later today. Let me just get a hold of the other participants.

Thanks

Here is the definition we will be using

abstract poem, a term coined by Edith Sitwell to describe a poem in which the words are chosen for their aural quality rather than specifically for their sense or meaning

Too often times I am reading poetry and find it hard to connect with the poem. Depending on the author, many times I will not even finish reading it. It is our job as a poet to draw the reader in and then keep them there. And perhaps, most importantly, offer them a memory. I don't read (or write) many poems about love, not just because it is overdone, but rather because the poet rarely provides anything "concrete" to go along with the emotion. Love, joy, despair, anger and other such emotions are abstract. They only depict a feeling and do not offer anything tangible to carry forward. However, this does not mean that these necessary emotions should never be written about. It is how we chose to exemplify them that will determine the value of our poetry.

As defined above, it is word selection for sound and/or imagery that will bring home abstract poetry.

For example, "it was a time of sadness". This line is abstract offering us only a vague representation of a period when someone was not happy. It offers no scene for the reader to place themselves into, and although somewhat easy to read, it is hardly memorable. As our first exercise, I ask you to rewrite this line with more "concrete" substance while maintaining the "abstract" feeling of sadness.

My attempt:

Asphalt pathways indented by droopy-dog faced paychecks

Look forward to your submissions. Please feel free to comment on my and others attempts to generate discussion to expand on this topic.

dying embers?

Shadows of a bloody night engulfed the soul
of a young child where the radiance of joy once shine.
Scot, I need your feedback. If this dpn't work I need to redo.

Alid

the ice cream fell from the cone and melting mixed with child's fallen face.

Like a lone lantern in the night?

Like a bare limbed tree after fall
chilling in the wintry storm
her green coat stripped to the core
creaking in lashes of the storm

Stars had stopped twinkling
by her overcast mind
clouds were about to burst
through her foggy eyes

even the rain didn't cleanse
her open wounds
grains of salt in them
couldn't sate her sobbing woes

the thunder and lightning
didn't get her out of the maze
so lost she was in the void
blinded by the haze

Fiery eyes shone like pools of light in the night
as he stared through the dark

As black hair flew in the cold breeze
Scalps tightened and ran with nobby knees
I saw bare branches on naked trees

Is this better?

I'm not at all sure that I get this yet, so does this work?
The striking Chinese beauty slipped into something more comfortable and into my lusty dreams.

"It is Belgium, nineteen forty four.
A conflict so grand it no longer feels sorrow."

Dark is the night
when a child's eyes witnessed his mother's suicide
abandoning life with a noose around her neck
after despair turned her into a wreck.

Alid

I think that a new stream would be good, as wading through all the comments and the few streamed poetic writes, the attempt at abstract work is being lost in a multitude of entries,
Yours as always Ian..

A multitude of feelings stretched the forests glow
I felt ice cold, in fear that my golden girl had left
I had not only planted a kiss on her rosy cheek,
But as we ran the track of life, mistrust was planted
I could only culture more, by tracing our trusts contours
I had become detached by the small flickering feelings
They ran their course with the leaden feet of dallying.
No good would bloom in this reject of a love affair..
Yours Ian..

lying supine like a felled tree
the storm had wrecked her hope
uprooting the will to live
under the overcast sky

*

help me understand, man. You say don't tell the reader, show them how to feel. How do you do that without being decriptive?

Alid

Please bare with me. This is my first workshop and I am learning just as you. It is proving difficult to explain the abstract in a way that I don't infringe on your creativity and poetic strengths. It is also difficult to explain something that is fairly natural to me. I will get there, though. I was going to wait until tomorrow to post the poem, but I think I shall post it today in the hope that it will help clarify my points.

Thanks for your patience

http://allpoetry.com/Lessons-in-Hunger

"Do you like me?"
I asked the blue blazer.
No answer.
Silence bounced out of his books.
Silence fell off his tongue
and sat between us
and clogged my throat.
It slaughtered my trust.
It tore cigarettes out of my mouth.
We exchanged blind words,
and I did not cry,
and I did not beg,
blackness lunged in my heart,
and something that had been good,
a sort of kindly oxygen,
turned into a gas oven.
Do you like me?
How absurd!
What's a question like that?
What's a silence like that?
And what am I hanging around for,
riddled with what his silence said?

bet you are understanding why I needed a break from running workshops.
Please post a simple declarative statement of where we go next.

Above is a poem, Lessons in Hunger, by Anne Sexton. This poem is a strong example of how to utilize "concrete" imagery with abstract concepts. Your task is to break down the poem and identify each instance where the poet "animates" an abstract word. Then select one of these instances and explain why it does or does not work. For the sake of saving the thread, you can post your comments where we would post poems for the workshop.

To me, after reading the poem twice, I can say that it worked for me.

My perception:-

This is about a smoker looking at his image in the mirror [Blue Blazer] and rest of the poem is an argument between the smoker [defending that smoking is right] and the image denying it..

I could be horribly wrong in my perception...lol..

"

disguised as abstract. Little said is not solid reality, but the circumstance, where he is, makes it abstract.
I agree with Raj that this is a smoker in the mirror. The first "stanza" sets that premise. It could be something else, but once looked at from that perspective everything else simply falls into place.

What can I say? Lessons in Hunger by Anne Sexton, reading this left me with a strong desire to tidy it grammatically, although I suspect that was not the primary intent of the author.

"Do you like me?" simple question
I asked the blue blazer. substitution of article for wearer
No answer. obvious
Silence bounced out of his books. Silence is pervasive
Silence fell off his tongue even his speech could not break it
and sat between us It became like a barrier
and clogged my throat. I could not speak
It slaughtered my trust. and was confused
It tore cigarettes out of my mouth. My cigarette dropped
We exchanged blind words, personified silence talked with me
and I did not cry, it did not cause tears
and I did not beg, or frustration
blackness lunged in my heart, my heart suddenly felt black
and something that had been good, good feeling
a sort of kindly oxygen, a gentle air
turned into a gas oven. became foul
the rest needs no explanation
Do you like me?
How absurd!
What's a question like that?
What's a silence like that?
And what am I hanging around for,
riddled with what his silence said?

For me, this poem is about insecurity. The title is ambiguous until you read the poem and then it states to me that she is illustrating a life lesson that desires aren't always granted.

"Do you like me?"

A simple enough question, but to me it says a lot. This is not a conversation with a spouse or family member, but probably a lover whom she questions his motives or an acquaintance whom she would like to build more of a relationship with.

I asked the blue blazer.

This offers color and, again, a simple descript. But I read more into it. There is no need for a blazer to be worn at home so I envision them at a cafe, book store or coffee house.

No answer.

His lack of response answers the question.

Silence bounced out of his books.
Silence fell off his tongue
and sat between us
and clogged my throat.

Animating silence is an excellent use of abstract poetry. It creates an image for the "elephant in the room." His silence left her unknowing of how to respond.

It slaughtered my trust.

Her comfort level with him is longer present

It tore cigarettes out of my mouth.

Her nervousness at the situation lent her to chain smoking.

We exchanged blind words,

They looked into each other's eyes and proffered at what the other might be thinking

and I did not cry,

She did not dignify his "response" by showing her hurt

and I did not beg,

She didn't try to sell herself on him

blackness lunged in my heart,

Sticking with the smoking theme, she describes her pain

and something that had been good,
a sort of kindly oxygen,
turned into a gas oven.

Refers back to get trust level and how she no longer is comfortable around him

Do you like me?
How absurd!
What's a question like that?

She acknowledges her insecurity and perhaps regret at offering the question.

What's a silence like that?

Offers clarity in the respect that she may have misread the person whom she had offered trust

And what am I hanging around for,
riddled with what his silence said?

She realizes that her insecurity had kept her there despite his "rejection" and offers an opening to share her abstract emotion with the reader

Hmm pretty good analysis of how Alvin and Rula have perceived the abstract part/s of the poem, yet it is not clear what the poet himself wanted to convey...hopefully Alvin will throw more light on that soon..

Alvin I am not looking for anything more than how you and Rula have perceived the poem by breaking down the abstractness of the poem. I am in fact bewildered by the realization that I find both perceptions to be logical...

Lessons in Hunger by Anne Sexton

http://allpoetry.com/Lessons-in-Hunger

"Do you like me?"
I asked the blue blazer.
No answer. (To me it sounds like the writer is frustrated with her lover)
Silence bounced out of his books.
Silence fell off his tongue
and sat between us
and clogged my throat.
It slaughtered my trust. (doubting her partner's feelings towards her)
It tore cigarettes out of my mouth.
We exchanged blind words,
and I did not cry,
and I did not beg,
blackness lunged in my heart, (she's more angry than despairing)
and something that had been good,
a sort of kindly oxygen,
turned into a gas oven.
Do you like me?
How absurd!
What's a question like that?
What's a silence like that?
And what am I hanging around for,
riddled with what his silence said?

Alid

am I hanging around for, riddled with what his silence said?

My thoughts are; "Why am I concerned with what he thinks, when his silence says it all?"
~ Gee

The velvet touch inside my heart
Stole tears from my star struck eyes
Tingles ran up and down my empty body
Thoughts fluttered as flags within my spirit

Was this the portrait of love stealing my will?
I was left as if tipped out of my secret self
There trailing behind me, my gathered memories
Your bronzed glow draped my mind in webs

Teach me of this whirlpool of your presence
Thoughts that have run away with my heart
Can I now work my dreams in truthful warmth?
That my spirit can once again become unchained.

I see you now in the vision of all my needs..

Yours Ian..

"Here is the definition we will be using
abstract poem, a term coined by Edith Sitwell to describe a poem in which the words are chosen for their aural quality rather than specifically for their sense or meaning"
For this workshop to be really useful, I've been finding it a bit vague, I would suggest that words are chosen for their aural and visual qualities and their prosodic context to specifically portray abstract meanings without using abstract words.

The following poem deals with abstract emotion, but it is fairly pain. Please re-write a portion (or all if you feel the muse) to make it more memorable. Remember that your word choice can be for sound and visual as much as content.
(Example
...Shadows (curtseying hens and cocks)
Pecking in the attic gloom
Tried to smother his tail-plume . . .
Till a cockscomb candle-flame
Crowing loudly, died: Dawn came.

Edith Sitwell))

Feelings of Abandonment

I keep looking for comfort from you
?I sit and wonder if your love is true?
You see me crying
?Inside you have to know I’m dying
?Don’t you see these tears?
Don’t you see the hurt from so many years??
The hurt, the pain and anger won’t go away
?I wonder who “loves me” and will turn their back today
?I can’t explain how I feel inside?
Feelings of abandonment rush in like the tide
?Ghosts haunt me no matter where I go?
I do love you still, that you should know?
The adult lives her life?
Taking on happiness, sorrow and strife?I
hope someday you’ll understand
?Someday I hope you’ll be here to comfort me and hold my hand?
(Angela Fernatt)

Looking forward to your submissions

What are those question marks at the beginning of some of the verses or are they typos?

Feelings of Abandonment
Seeking that heartfelt succour from your sight
Hoping my eyes hold your feelings true
Wondering if our hearts are so joined
I cry you see for lost days

my spirit is whirl pooling reaching out endlessly
My eyes defied your sight in hidden swells
Ages of heart wrenching from your ways
I hold your cruelty it is endless torment
How many others will turn away today without love.
Feelings flit and caress my tormented inside, why?
My lonely thoughts rush over my love in streams.
Eternal Spirits play where ever I journey
You still hold my loving heart bare and vulnerable
We live high as we grow in maturity
Joining in all things sent to our inner feelings
One day you will be with like mind
Then in the time allotted, you’ll be here to comfort me.
I love you!

Adapted from the poem by Angela Fernatt
Maybe too many words but it’s sort of abstract lol

Just an abstract look at an abstract piece please excuse the last three words it just felt right..
Why are some puzzled about abstract.
If it is a cake it is a cake, not some crumbling taste that absorbs time itself while piling on fat lol
Yours Ian..

In the glimmer of light, that shines through
the East Texas pines, close to dusk,
I stand still aware of a whisper from an opening
that is allowing the light to shine through.
Who are you, I ask, while a million
electric needles pierce my arms.
“I am the light that is the last warm ray
on the first day of summer, sole proprietor of the sun
and holder of humankind’s destiny.
Don’t you know that just like this flickering fading light,
In a minute, it will be over and you will have
no memory of the darkness closing in.
So reap the magic moments that are like whispers in the night,
remember every brilliant flash that steals your breath away,
even though far away I can embrace you and hold the light
keeping the dark shadows at bay.”
Such is the essence of life, more memory than substance
and more fading light than brilliance!

In a moment life can change and magic
enter your heart silently healing
closing all wounds and hurts,
opening a vista of opportunity unknown
breaking the wall of fear and uncertainty.
Freeing your mind to believe and
accept a gift of love; life’s great surprise.
I speak of when two hearts find each other
seldom does it happen, loves gift like the
pierce of Cupid’s arrow swift, accurate and indelible.
Once so marked never to be erased
unlike a tattoo, todays mark of love, easily
removed and replaced with false hope.

but this Workshop has actually finished. There is a lot of valuable stuff in previous workshops at
https://www.neopoet.com/workshop/find/archive
but a lot more from posting your poems directly to the Stream.
Workshop>Submit a poem