11. Carol

A hymn or poem often sung by a group, with an individual taking the changing stanzas and the group taking the burden or refrain. – poetryfoundation.org

 A Spring Carol

Though the fields are bleak and brown
Soon they will grow tall and green
The trees in bud,
The squirrels and the robins

Though the cold snow flies today
Soon will come the kinder rains

Though the ice lingers in the shade
The creeks and rivers run freely

Though the winds are sharp and cruel
Soon soft breezes will bring us Spring’s softness.


The carol being a seasonal song, this is a celebration of Spring in contrast to last week’s poem. Or, more accurately, a celebration of Spring to come since we had snow yesterday and it was below freezing today again. I also drew somewhat on the Spring section of Carl Orff’s Carmina Burana.

I considered trying to do Middle English for this, since I’m mimicking the medieval form of the carol, but I decided my ME skills weren’t up to it.


9: The Bop

A recent invention, the Bop was created by Afaa Michael Weaver during a summer retreat of the African American poetry organization, Cave Canem. Not unlike the Shakespearean sonnet in trajectory, the Bop is a form of poetic argument consisting of three stanzas, each stanza followed by a repeated line, or refrain, and each undertaking a different purpose in the overall argument of the poem. –  Poets.org

The Program

We come because of love, because we are promised
A life in union with these works, these ideas,
These people – a convent for the lower-case word.
And we do love, we love as some love the books themselves –
The tactile reassurances, the familiar gestures,
As warm and safe as a lover’s body in the dark

But that unrequited love will not nourish us.

Despite the promises Hollywood makes us,
Love will not mend minds and bodies worn and broken
On the rocks of genteel poverty and imposter syndrome,
Abuses of power, mundane and bizarre, committed by crusaders
For justice and equality, and knowing that we are
At best numbers in a system and at worst a joke,
A punchline about laziness and uselessness and weakness.
We are fighting for too few lifeboats here

And this unrequited love will not nourish us.

But what if we are not drowning? Who told us
We were but the people already in the lifeboats?
And we believed them and believed each other.
It is possible to drown in a few inches of water.
It is possible, too, to find ones feet, to stand,
To wade in to the shore that was, after all, so close,

Because this unrequited love will not nourish us


It was nice to have a form so comparatively free of constraints this week – no meter, no rhyme scheme. This form, like the blues, is more about the content than the form itself – here, the working through of an issue. I ended up writing out some of my discontent with the US academic system here and the way it’s built on a raft of icky (and sexist) assumptions about emotional labour and the way it operates within an environment of anti-intellectual capitalism. The anti-academia piece is a genre in its own right these days, too, though it’s usually done in essay form. I happened on this as I was thinking about the way that the problem, problem solution format was – I assume – designed for writing about social justice issues. It certainly works well for that purpose anyway.