Communication
Enunciation rarely finds true flight -
attention ties my gaffing tongue in knots.
When thoughts are wanted: strangles, it garrottes,
and in the end, I render them contrite.
Shy throat attacked, staunch stomach twisted tight,
words stagger forth and lurch about in clots;
a true line, syntax, once, becomes mere dots -
expressionless, but for the self-indict.
Excepting only voice when used in song,
when setting music to an earnest thought.
It’s effortless and eloquent to me;
appears to be the purest sound, a gong
in Buddhist monast’ry; oh, how less fraught
I feel when reaching out in harmony.
✩
Italian Petrarchan Sonnet – abbaabba cdecde - first penned back at College/Uni in 2000 and recently rewritten.
Categories: Autobiography, Luke Prater, Poetry Inhibition, Italian Sonnet, Petrarchan Sonnet, Shyness, Singing, Sonnet
“Enunciation rarely finds true flight -
attention ties my gaffing tongue in knots.
When thoughts are wanted: strangles, it garrottes,
and in the end, I render them contrite.”
I really enjoyed this, Luke. I love the format and the flow of this, the choice of words (though somehow cannot picture you “tongue-tied’ in any way). Very nicely conceived and written.
the purest sound a gong…ha…nice…i used t hate enunciation in school…its not normal talk you know…smiles.
Thanks both
@brian using ‘enunciation’ not as in ‘elocution’ (lessons) – not even sure it’s used in Britain that way – but the general sense of the word
@Ginny
It goes right along with how he’s been feeling for a while now … like he’s lost his muse, like he’s so loved that anxiety sets in. But when he sings/plays, he can close his eyes and forget that there’s an audience; when music is involved, he is released to just be … Flukey Lukey, no expectations.
This is my favorite: “attention ties my gaffing tongue in knots”
Along with the gong in a monastery … an obvious, painful clang that is anything but music, anything but poetry. The best poets probably feel this the most. Although your readers will all cry “impossible,” when greatness is anticipated at every turn, it becomes quite difficult to produce.
I feel it when I write these word prompts. I’m providing the words, so I’d better be able to produce an exceptional poem in response to myself. It’s a scary feeling; it feels like the poem is expected to exist before you’ve even come up with an idea, like anticipating birth before conception … and sometimes, the poem is stillborn.
This was very well said, Luke. I like the comparisons you used and your descriptions were apt and succinct. The Buddhist gong and OM, of course…be still and just “be”(as Shawna points out)…it also reminds me of how stutterers are often taught to sing to overcome their stutter. Your muse has not left, my friend. Perhaps it was just waiting for you to sing? :) I think the form choice is a good one, as well. It allows for your lyrical nature to shine through.
Thanks both – actually I wrote this a very long time ago and even the major edit happened a year and a half ago.
@Shawna but you’re right Shawna about the expectation and feeling that pressure. I don’t have such a problem with feeling uncomfortable in (some) social situations like back then (other times I was very confident.. it seemed to be one or the other). Thanks again
Love the rhythm of the sonnet and of course you’ve nailed it here. I also love your theme, but it’s strange to read about shyness from you…I would never have suspected you’ve struggled with this. These lines in particular resonate with me:
When thoughts are wanted: strangles, it garrottes,
and in the end, I render them contrite.
Shy throat attacked, staunch stomach twisted tight,
words stagger forth and lurch about in clots;
yes, I understand. Good to read some of your older stuff.
P.S. the only pressure a writer should feel is the pressure to live up to his/her own expectations, I believe, but I could be wrong of course :)
Nothing to dissect Luke – pure heaven – a pleasure to read. (I can’t stop reading it!)
Anna :o]
Thanks both.
@Emma This was written a long time ago; I struggled more with feeling uncomfortable in (some) social situations (but felt so free and easy singing/performing up in front of loads). I was either uncomfortable or very confident and relaxed with people, depending on the people. It’s lessened now somewhat, but I still have that in me I think.
Luke, I was thinking how much I liked the rhyme scheme, thanks for notating the form- really worked well with your piece here. I see a total internal inquiry going on here and that completely resonates with me. Love the ending as well. Great job. Thanks
@Fred Ah hey thanks Fred
a voice held back… hesitant… we all have those times… some more than other… but none the less we all could relate.
This was an awesome poem.
~L
@~L Thanks for stopping by and leaving your thoughts, much appreciated
I can really relate to this one. Maybe I’ll grow out of it… I’d better hurry the hell up though.
If I only had a voice….. The pen will have to do. My own children don’t even like my singing.
nice…you wrapped me in your beautiful italian sonnet mr. prater…enjoyed it much..sometimes i too find expressing myself with a song easier than in a conversation
This is profoundly beautiful Luke. I particularly like: words stagger forth and lurch about in clots. This is priceless!
Clearly this is true for me. Connectors always getting turned around or interchanged. Such harmonious construction, the form barely peeking through as the thought flows effortless from beginning to end. Transitions always so seemless. (Yes, I’m still craving your article on this form! Just sayin”).
That’s how it is when you hit the flow of a thing, it happens without thinking, be it music, writing, or speaking. There’s such a difference in the flow of your word between the first and second stanza’s, one feeling hard fought and the other feeling effortless. Nice.
knowing the feeling intimately – makes the poem pretty darn good; extra aspects of all :)
nice one bro, gets better with every read too
words stagger forth and lurch about in clots;
a true line, syntax, once, becomes mere dots -
expressionless, but for the self-indict………
These lines just perfect-awesome!
Oh, love the ending. Like this side of you.
Wow…no tightness of words here. Expressed perfectly!
Ironically, a pitch-perfect set of ‘true lines’… a sonnet is very like a song I guess. You clearly nail the sense of awkward inarticulation in the octave while resolving the knot in the fluid sestet. Not only a joyous use of form though, a sharply felt duality, which is very easy to relate to.
Your garrotted gaffing tongue found flight. Gorgeous.
A difficult form well-tackled. I like how music frees the words, as becky suggests, the music of poetry. Enjoyed this very much.
I am the opposite…give me something to speak…but please don’t have me sing it. I have had my muse render me average lately…perhaps there will come that written piece that will have me singing.
I would rather speak than sing…others would wish it so too. But in my writing lately my muse has a sore throat…I am waiting for her to deliver my song.
As one who learned to sing harmonies in school, this sonnet speaks to me on many levels, Thank you.
“When thoughts are wanted: strangles, it garrottes,
and in the end, I render them contrite.”
Is my favourite part! Really beautiful sonnet~
Loved this poem – Communication as only a writer could enunciate :D Totally rocked it!
@Dark Angel
Just read this again… I read it a bit different this time… that last line.. “oh, how less fraught
I feel when reaching out in harmony”. Harmony is better then standing alone…
lovely luke:) enjoyed even better the second time around!
~L
@~L
oops.. didn’t mean to replay to @Dark Angel :/ sorry:) …it was suppose to be a comment in general :)
I can relate to this piece….love the word garrotes…..what appeals to me in this is just the purest truth of expression for a shy soul….