The Nature of Poetic Order
1998 Gabriel 99 pp.

The Nature of Poetic Order

1. The Nature of Poetic Orderand its application to the problem ofLocating Failures in Poems

Richard P. Gabriel
Stanford University

1.1. The Problem

  • • What distinguishes poems from other texts?
  • • What is the nature of that which makes a poem successful?
  • • Is there a component of beauty orthogonal to aesthetics?
  • • More particularly, how can we find any weaknesses and failures in our own work?
  • • How can we identify its strengths?
  • • What is a failure?
    • • that which makes a poem less whole, less fully alive than it could be
    • • that which causes the reader to put the poem aside or to experience it on fewer than all the levels on which it was intended to be experienced

1.2. Current Approaches

1.2.1. What is a poem?:

  • • Literary theory—normally aimed at understanding the linguistic act (of poetry), meaning, significance, speech acts, etc
  • • Fall back on the contingency of beauty and aesthetics

1.2.2. On finding failures:

  • • Traditional process-based approaches (what you do):
    • ❖ ask a friend to read it—find a fresh reader
    • ❖ workshop it—find several fresh readers
    • ❖ put the poem aside and read it later—make yourself a fresh reader
  • • Traditional theory-based approaches (what you think about when you do it):
    • ❖ use your intuition as you read it—poetry is a subjective art
    • ❖ examine craft elements
    • ❖ do a “close reading” (a combination of the two)
    • ❖ use an aesthetics, a literary theory, or a political, cultural, or historical approach

1.3. My Approach

  • • Define poetry rigorously and precisely
    • • characterize what makes poetry stand out as a text
    • • rigorous and precise but not (yet) mechanizable
  • • Use the details of that definition to analyze the poem

1.4. Plan

  • • Define poetry rigorously and precisely
    • ✧ characterize what makes poetry stand out as a text by decomposing beauty into two orthogonal components, one subjective and the other objective
    • ✧ rigorous and precise but not (yet) mechanizable
  • • Use the details of the objective part of that definition to analyze the success/failure of a poem

1.5. Disclaimer

  • • Aesthetics and subjectivity are left in tact, though an objective dimension of beauty is revealed
  • • This approach is only one of many ways to approach the problem of looking objectively at our own work
    • ❖ it is one diagnostic tool among many
    • ❖ it is not an attempt to define or prescribe aesthetics (more on this later)
  • • The definition of poetry I propose, while provocative, is not intended as the final word on the problem
    • ❖ it is not a literary theory and says nothing about the status of an utterance (more later)
    • ❖ it does not define or elucidate the “meaning” of a poem
    • ❖ it does not let a privileged aesthetics in by the back door
  • • The exercise of looking for failures and weaknesses in published work is not intended to belittle or humiliate those writers but to serve as a set of examples for the points in the theory and approach
  • • The word “failure” is inflammatory; I use it to cultivate creative, exuberant self-criticism—“weakness” is more accurate
  • • The method just as accurately locates strengths

1.5.1. Requirements for a Definition of Poetry

From The Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetic Terms:

A poem is an instance of verbal art, a text set in verse, bound speech. More generally, a poem conveys heightened forms of perception, experience, meaning, and consciousness in heightened language, i.e. a heightened mode of discourse.

Problems with this definition:

  • • What does “heightened” mean?
  • • It seems impossible to distinguish poetry from other forms of writing based on content, intent, subject matter, or degree of perception, experience, and consciousness (perception, experience, meaning, and consciousness)
  • • Any definition based on form-based distinctions can be broken down (a text set in verse)

A definition of poetry should focus on what distinguishes poems from other sorts of texts

1.5.2. Requirements for a Definition of Poetry

  • • The definition should “feel good”
  • • The definition should capture the intangibles we associate with poetry
  • • The definition should help us examine a text and determine whether it is a poem
  • • The definition should provide a means to assess the poem as a poem
  • • The definition should provide a means to help us locate weaknesses and failures

rigorous and precise

A curved arrow pointing from the text 'rigorous and precise' to the last two bullet points of the list.

1.5.3. A Definition of Poetry

A poem is a beautiful* text

1.5.4. A Definition of Beauty

  • • The success of this definition depends on characterizing an objective component of beauty
  • • We will use the term aesthetics for the subjective component of beauty and wholeness and life or poetic order for the objective part
  • • Based on work by Christopher Alexander:
    • ❖ an architect
    • ❖ studied “beauty” and order for 35 years in the context of architecture, carpets, and nature
    • ❖ studied beauty in terms of geometry
    • ❖ process for creating wholeness and life
    • ❖ precise and rigorous definition in terms of wholeness and life in terms of “centers”
  • • There are two views on objectivity:
    • ❖ a scientifically verifiable, measurable phenomenon
    • ❖ a universal perception

1.6. Aesthetics and Poetic Order

Poetic Order reveals why a poem is experienced as whole and alive, why a poem is experienced as a poem and not as doggerel

  • • Aesthetics is cultural, social, personal, or political, and is experienced separately from Poetic Order
Diagram showing the relationship between aesthetics and poetic order in the formula for beauty.

beauty = aesthetics + poetic order

The diagram illustrates the components of the formula 'beauty = aesthetics + poetic order'. Below the word 'aesthetics' is the text 'cultural/subjective' with a curved arrow pointing up to 'aesthetics'. Below the word 'poetic order' is the text 'acultural/objective' with a curved arrow pointing up to 'poetic order'.

Diagram showing the relationship between aesthetics and poetic order in the formula for beauty.
  • • Poetic Order determines whether the poem is whole and alive
    • ❖ a poem of any aesthetics can be beautiful
    • ❖ a poem without poetic order cannot be beautiful—poetic order is necessary to beauty
    • ❖ a poem of the “wrong” aesthetics with poetic order might be perceived not as beautiful but as well-written, well-constructed, etc—in short, as a poem, but as an ugly or unappealing one

A More Precise—but less dramatic—Definition of Poetry

A poem is a text with strong poetic order

1.6.1. Centers

<Centers> are those particular identified sets, or systems, which appear within the larger whole as distinct and noticeable parts. They appear because they have noticeable distinctness, which makes them separate out from their surroundings and makes them cohere, and it is from the arrangements of these coherent parts that other coherent parts appear.

—Christopher Alexander

1.6.2. Centers

... the strength of any given center is not merely a function of the <element> that creates that center in itself, but comes about as a result of the way that the configuration is working as a whole—that is, as a result of the influence of many other factors which extend outward in the given region of <text>—always as a result of the configuration as a whole.

Thus the centers which make up any given wholeness do not exist independently from the configuration as a whole. They appear as elements which are generated by the configuration as a whole. It is the large scale features of the configuration which produce the local centers and allow the local centers to settle out.

—Christopher Alexander

1.6.3. Centers

  1. 1. Centers arise in <text>.
  2. 2. Each center is created by configurations of other centers.
  3. 3. Each center has a certain life or intensity . . . This life or intensity is not inherent in the center by itself, but is a function of the whole configuration in which the center occurs.
  4. 4. The life or intensity of one center gets increased or decreased according to the position and intensity of other nearby centers. Above all, centers become most intense when the centers which they are made of help each other.
  5. 5. The centers are the fundamental elements of the wholeness, and the degree of wholeness or life, of any given part of <the poem> depends entirely on the presence and structure of the centers there.

—Christopher Alexander

1.6.4. Centers

A center is a kind of entity which can be defined in terms of other centers. Centers are—and can only be—made of other centers.

—Christopher Alexander

  • • The term “center” makes us think of a place of focus
  • • “Center” does not require a specified boundary and hence implies an open-endedness and precludes a necessary closure (where does a pond end?)
  • • It is thus better than the word “whole”, which is a viable alternative
  • • The definition of a center makes us think in terms of the relationships between centers generating life, intensity, and wholeness

1.6.4.1. Process for Creating Wholeness and Life

For geometry:

  1. 1. At every step of the process—whether conceiving, designing, making, maintaining, or repairing—we must always be concerned with the whole within which we are making anything. We look at this wholeness, absorb it, try to feel its deep structure.
  2. 2. We ask which kind of thing we can do next that will do the most to give this wholeness the most positive increase of life.
  3. 3. As we ask this question, we necessarily direct ourselves to centers, the units of energy within the whole, and ask which one center could be created (or extended or intensified or even pruned) that will most increase the life of the whole.
  4. 4. As we work to enhance this new living center, we do it in such a way as also to create or intensify (by the same action) the life of some larger center.
  5. 5. Simultaneously we also make at least one center of the same size (next to the one we are concentrating on), and one or more smaller centers—increasing their life too.
  6. 6. We check to see if what we have done has truly increased the life and feeling of the whole. If the feeling of the whole has not been deepened by the step we have just taken, we wipe it out. Otherwise we go on.
  7. 7. We then repeat the entire process, starting at step 1 again, with the newly modified whole.
  8. 8. We stop altogether when there is no further step we can take that intensifies the feeling of the whole.

—Christopher Alexander

1.6.5. Centers

A center is any place in a poem that attracts attention. Centers can arise from the action/interaction of these craft elements:

  • • stress/unstress
  • • sound
  • • unit of syntax
  • • rhyme
  • • repeated words and sounds
  • • line
  • • first word in a line
  • • last word in a line
  • • stanza
  • • image
  • • metaphor and other figures
  • • title
  • • the poem itself
  • • historical or political elements, revealed metaphysics
  • • meaning
  • • ...

1.6.5.1. Centers

But, a center is not simply an instance of one of these craft elements

... It is this girl
by Piero
della Francesca, unbuttoning
her blue dress,
her mantle of weather,
to go into
labor...

this line is not a center

this one might be

San Sepolcro, Jorie Graham

1.6.5.2. Example of Centers

1.6.5.3. The Second Coming

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight; somewhere in the sands of the desert
A shape with a lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?


In this familiar poem by W. B. Yeats we'll look at some of the centers and some of their relationships

1.6.5.3.1. Example of Centers

1.6.5.4. The Second Coming

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight; somewhere in the sands of the desert
A shape with a lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

Initially apparent centers—mostly images, sounds, and phrases

1.6.5.4.1. Example of Centers

1.6.5.5. The Second Coming

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight; somewhere in the sands of the desert
A shape with a lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

Another layer of centers—interesting stresses

1.6.5.5.1. Example of Centers

1.6.5.6. The Second Coming

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight; somewhere in the sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

Strong centers
reinforce each other

Centers do not exist
outside a field of
centers: the word
sleep is not inherently
a center but is in this
poem because of the
following:

  • • interesting image
    (stony sleep)
  • • stress
  • • end-of-line
    position
  • • connections to
    nightmare and
    cradle

More centers based on reinforced sounds, senses, and images

1.6.5.6.1. Example of Centers

1.6.5.7. The Second Coming

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi

Troubles my sight; somewhere in the sands of the desert
A shape with a lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it

Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,

And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

Larger centers based on what could be called topics, emphasis, or sense.

Note how these centers refer back to earlier ones based on sound and sense.

Larger centers

1.6.5.8. Characteristics of a Field of Strong Centers

  • • Levels of Scale
  • • Strong Centers
  • • Boundaries
  • • Alternating Repetition
  • • Positive Space
  • • Good Shape
  • • Local Symmetries
  • • Deep Interlock and Ambiguity
  • • Contrast
  • • Gradients
  • • Roughness
  • • Echoes
  • • The Void
  • • Simplicity and Inner Calm
  • • Not-Separateness

1.6.5.9. Levels of Scale

  • • A beautiful text contains centers at all levels of scale
  • • There are centers at the size of a syllable or a basic sound all the way up to the entire poem
    • ❖ good sounds
    • ❖ good stresses
    • ❖ good words
    • ❖ good lines
    • ❖ good syntax
    • ❖ good images
    • ❖ good stanzas
    • ❖ good poem
  • • The centers support one another

1.6.5.9.1. Example of Levels of Scale

    • • strong sounds underlined
    • • strong stresses
    • • strong images in rounded boxes
    • • strong support shown with arrows
    • • strong lines in boxes
    • • strong first words in circles
    • • strong end words in circles

Image of outwardly
circling falcon in the
pitiless sun conjures
up reel (real) shadows

Turning and turning in the widening gyre

The falcon cannot hear the falconer;

✦ ✦ ✦

A shape with a lion body and the head of a man,

A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,

Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it

Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.

1.6.5.10. Strong Centers

  • • Not just centers but strong centers
  • • A strong center is one toward which other centers point

... the eye rests on it, one keeps coming back to it, going away from it, coming back to it. In short, the entire design sets up a vector field so that every point has the property that from that point the center is in a certain direction ...

—Christopher Alexander

1.6.5.10.1. Example of Strong Centers

❖ turning and turning
❖ falcon cannot hear the falconer
❖ widening gyre
❖ blood-dimmed tide is loosed
❖ ceremony of innocence
❖ slow thighs
❖ gaze blank and pitiless as the sun
❖ reel shadows of the indignant desert birds
❖ stony sleep
❖ vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle
❖ what rough beast
❖ slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

Diagram showing arrows connecting words in the poem to form a network of strong centers.A diagram illustrating the concept of 'strong centers' in poetry. It features a list of lines from Eliot's 'The Waste Land'. Arrows connect specific words across different lines, highlighting their thematic or structural significance. For example, 'turning' connects to 'widening gyre', 'ceremony of innocence', and 'slouches'. 'slow thighs' connects to 'gaze blank', 'stony sleep', and 'slouches'. 'stony sleep' connects to 'vexed to nightmare' and 'slouches'. 'slouches' connects to 'slouches towards Bethlehem'. Other connections include 'falcon' to 'falconer', 'blood-dimmed' to 'loosed', 'gaze blank' to 'pitiless', 'reel shadows' to 'indignant', 'vexed to' to 'nightmare', and 'what rough' to 'beast'.
  • • sounds
  • • sense
  • • rhyme
  • • contrast
  • • image
  • • a center does not exist on its own: Neither slow nor thighs is a center, and slow thighs grows as a center in the presence of stony sleep, rough beast, slouches, and knowledge of the Sphinx

1.6.5.11. Boundaries

  • • A boundary separates a center from other centers
  • • A boundary focuses attention on the center
  • • A boundary is itself made of centers
  • • Line breaks
  • • Stanza breaks
  • • Syntactic bridges
  • • Unstresses
  • • Image-connecting material
  • • Boundaries can be found in canonical places:
    • ❖ beginning of lines
    • ❖ end of lines
    • ❖ first line of stanza
    • ❖ last line of stanza
  • • Boundaries can be found anywhere

1.6.5.11.1. Example of Boundaries

Diagram illustrating boundaries and centers in a sentence.

The diagram illustrates the concept of boundaries and centers in a sentence. It features two lines of text with arrows pointing to specific words or phrases:

  • lessor centers: Points to the words "rough", "hour", "come", and "round" in the sentence "And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,".
  • boundaries: Points to the words "And", "beast", "its", "at", and "last" in the same sentence.
  • strong centers: Points to the words "Slouches" and "born" in the sentence "Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?".

The diagram shows how boundaries and centers are used to structure a sentence, with arrows indicating the flow of information and the relationship between different parts of the sentence.

Diagram illustrating boundaries and centers in a sentence.

1.6.5.12. Alternating Repetition

  • • Strong centers repeated with alternating centers
  • • Not simple repeating
  • • Pattern with variation
  • • Underlying metrical pattern with surface variations—e.g. iambic pentameter with substitutions etc
  • • Rhyme patterns
  • • Lines
  • • Image repetition
  • • Alternating repetition is supplied by form and metrical verse—but form and metrical verse are not required, and alternating repetition can appear using various elements

1.6.5.12.1. Examples of Alternating Repetition

  • • the second line repeats in words (car) the stresses of the first
  • • the second line repeats in reverse the initial stress pattern of the first line
  • • the third line repeats the middle stress pattern of the start of the second line
  • car sound repeated (-cer)
  • official/officer/official
  • • alliterations (p, c, f, t)
Diagram showing syntactic tree structures for the sentence 'Maybe it's his wife the car is an official car belonging to a petty police officer I think but her get-up was far from official for that time of day'. The diagram uses boxes for phrases and ovals for grammatical functions like subject, object, and modifier, with arrows indicating syntactic relationships.

Exercise

Maybe it's his wife
the car is an official car
belonging
to a petty police officer
I think
but her get-up
was far from official
for that time
of day

The diagram illustrates the syntactic structure of the sentence. It uses boxes to group phrases and ovals to represent grammatical functions. Arrows indicate the syntactic relationships between these elements.

  • Top Level: The sentence is divided into two main parts by a large arrow pointing from the left to the right.
    • Left Part: "Maybe it's his wife" (boxed) is connected to "the car" (boxed) via an arrow. "the car" is the subject of the main clause.
    • Right Part: "is an official car" (boxed) is the predicate of the main clause. "belonging to a petty police officer" (boxed) is a modifier of "official car".
  • Second Level: The sentence is further divided into two main parts by a large arrow pointing from the left to the right.
    • Left Part: "I think" (boxed) is the subject of the main clause.
    • Right Part: "but her get-up" (boxed) is the predicate of the main clause.
  • Third Level: The sentence is further divided into two main parts by a large arrow pointing from the left to the right.
    • Left Part: "was far from official" (boxed) is the subject of the main clause.
    • Right Part: "for that time of day" (boxed) is the predicate of the main clause.

The diagram uses boxes to group phrases and ovals to represent grammatical functions like subject, object, and modifier, with arrows indicating syntactic relationships.

Diagram showing syntactic tree structures for the sentence 'Maybe it's his wife the car is an official car belonging to a petty police officer I think but her get-up was far from official for that time of day'. The diagram uses boxes for phrases and ovals for grammatical functions like subject, object, and modifier, with arrows indicating syntactic relationships.

William Carlos Williams

  • • the 3-line stanzas
  • • sound/rhyme repetitions: Maybe/day, car/far, petty/get-up, belonging/get-up, wife/officer/official/far
  • • most lines start without a stress, placing it toward the middle

1.6.5.13. Positive Space

  • • Positive space is the characteristic of a center that moves outward from itself, seemingly oozing life rather than collapsing on itself
  • • An image that resonates is showing positive space
  • • A word that has many connotations that fit with the other centers in the poem is showing positive space
  • • It is an expansion outward rather than a contraction inward, and it shows that the poem is unfolding in front of us and not dying

1.6.5.13.1. Example of Positive Space

The phrase reel shadows pushes outward to reinforce other centers in the poem and therefore shows Positive Space. This center is surrounded by other centers as well (indignant desert birds, slow thighs, and darkness drops)

Image: Diagram showing the phrase 'Reel shadows' as a central node with arrows pointing to other phrases in the poem.

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
...
A shape with a lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,

The diagram illustrates the concept of 'Positive Space' by highlighting the phrase 'Reel shadows' in a grey oval. Arrows originate from this central node and point to other key phrases in the poem: 'Turning and turning in the widening gyre', 'The falcon cannot hear the falconer;', 'A shape with a lion body and the head of a man,', 'A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,', 'Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it', 'The darkness drops again; but now I know', and 'That twenty centuries of stony sleep'. This visualizes how 'Reel shadows' acts as a central point that connects to and reinforces other centers within the poem's structure.

1.6.5.14. Good Shape

  • • Good shape is the characteristic of a center that it is somehow beautiful by itself
    • ❖ one of a pair of words that rhyme has good shape if it is also a beautiful word by itself
    • ❖ this means that the centers in the word—its sounds, its rhythms—are also good centers by themselves
  • • A center has good shape when it is reinforced by other centers of good shape
  • • A center has good shape when it is made of centers of good shape

1.6.5.14.1. Example of Good Shape

The center Bethlehem is constructed from its own good shape—good noise and the pleasing rhythm Béthlehém—along with the way it is multiply and recursively reinforced and created by other centers:

Diagram illustrating the recursive reinforcement of the word 'Bethlehem' through a poem.

A diagram illustrating the recursive reinforcement of the word "Bethlehem" through a poem. The poem text is enclosed in a large rounded rectangle. Within this rectangle, several phrases are circled: "lion body", "gaze blank", "pitiless", "slow thighs", "shadows", "darkness drops", "stony sleep", "nightmare", "rocking cradle", "rough beast", and "Bethlehem". Arrows show a complex web of connections between these circled phrases, demonstrating how the word "Bethlehem" is reinforced through the poem's structure and imagery.

A shape with a lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast its hour come at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

Diagram illustrating the recursive reinforcement of the word 'Bethlehem' through a poem.

1.6.5.15. Local Symmetries

  • • Every center should have a center nearby in the poem which is somehow an echo
  • • Internal rhymes, end-rhymes, an image that complements
  • • Envelope poems have this characteristic
  • • Prosody is largely the study of local symmetries
  • • When a line has a number of feet of similar stress patterns, we have local symmetries
  • • Symmetries make us feel there is a recurring pattern in the poem, and a pattern is an indication of universality
  • • And so a poem with local symmetries seems like it represents a class of occurrences that we should pay attention to
  • • Local symmetries are supplied by some form and metrical verse—but form and metrical verse are not required

1.6.5.15.1. Example of Local Symmetries

  • • repeated words
  • • same stress pattern
  • • same line shape
  • • local symmetry makes us “equate”
    revelation and
    Second Coming

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.

1.6.5.16. Deep Interlock and Ambiguity

1.6.5.17. Deep Interlock

  • • It is hard to pull centers apart
  • • Each center derives power from surrounding centers
  • • You cannot remove any part of a poem without diminishing it
  • • When a poem is “too big,” that can mean that the centers are weak and some centers are not contributing enough—these centers are not (and cannot be) interlocked deeply enough, and therefore the poem is strengthened by removing them
  • • On a smaller scale, deep interlock is paired stress and unstress, enjambed lines
  • • On a larger scale, deep interlock is images that cannot be pulled apart
  • • The fact that a poem is so deeply interlocked makes it seem more of a whole center, something that somehow must exist
  • • It is sometimes difficult to disentangle a center from its surroundings
    • ❖ . . . through actual interlock
    • ❖ . . . through an ambiguous zone which belongs both to the center and to its surroundings

1.6.5.17.1. Ambiguity

  • • Each center is part of several others
  • • Force into a center becomes force out of a center

1.6.5.17.2. Example of Deep Interlock and Ambiguity

Diagram showing three stanzas of poetry with interlocking phrases highlighted and arrows indicating connections between them.

The diagram illustrates three stanzas of poetry, each enclosed in a rounded rectangle. The stanzas are stacked vertically. The first stanza is: "Turning and turning in the widening gyre / The falcon cannot hear the falconer; / Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; / Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world." The second stanza is: "The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere / The ceremony of innocence is drowned; / The best lack all conviction, while the worst / Are full of passionate intensity." The third stanza is: "Surely some revelation is at hand; / Surely the Second Coming is at hand." Arrows point from a common point below the first two stanzas to the first and second stanzas. Another arrow points from the first stanza to the second. A third arrow points from the second stanza to the third. The phrases "mere anarchy is loosed", "blood-dimmed tide is loosed", "innocence is drowned", "conviction", "passionate intensity", and "revelation is at hand" are highlighted with rounded rectangles, showing how they interlock across stanzas.

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.

Diagram showing three stanzas of poetry with interlocking phrases highlighted and arrows indicating connections between them.
  • • three main centers
  • • interlock through images (mere anarchy and blood-dimmed tide)
  • • interlock through syntax (. . . is loosed)
  • • interlock through images (innocence, conviction, passionate intensity, revelation)

1.6.5.18. Contrast

  • • A poem full of life and good noise will also have moments of deep stillness
  • • One place will be approached closely and another merely hinted at
  • • There will be places of strong rhyme and then loose rhyme
  • • A strong rhythmic pattern will be established and a strongly varied passage will contrast it
  • • Stress/unstress is a basic contrast
  • • Images, words, or phrases that go against the grain are contrasts
  • • Without contrast there is nothing

1.6.5.18.1. Example of Contrast

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight; somewhere in the sands of the desert
A shape with a lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

Image: Diagram showing contrast between 'anarchy' and 'ceremony of innocence', 'darkness' and 'stony sleep', and 'rough beast' and 'Bethlehem'.

The diagram illustrates contrast through a series of arrows connecting specific words and phrases across the poem. A vertical line runs down the center of the text. Arrows point from 'anarchy' (line 4) to 'ceremony of innocence' (line 6), from 'darkness' (line 14) to 'stony sleep' (line 16), and from 'rough beast' (line 20) to 'Bethlehem' (line 22). Additionally, an arrow points from 'sun' (line 12) to 'rocking cradle' (line 18), and another from 'stony sleep' (line 16) to 'rocking cradle' (line 18).

1.6.5.19. Gradients

  • • Almost no good poem, not even a lyric, stays in one place
  • • Even if the poem is trying to reveal a lyric moment it will do it by approaching it, shading it, building on it
  • • Without gradient, there could be no contrast and hence the poem is literally nothing
  • • Without gradient, the reader is left to either leap from one place to another or is plunked in one place, stuck observing a bland landscape

1.6.5.19.1. Example of Gradients

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight; somewhere in the sands of the desert

A shape with a lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.

The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

  • • There are four gradients based on image centers
  • • Each builds to a crescendo
  • • The last line of the poem represents a stillness
  • • “Movement” and “gesture” can sometimes be examples of a gradient
  • • Lines 10–14 build in syllable length from 10 to 14 (surely not a coincidence): Surely the Second Coming is at hand—A shape with a lion body and the head of a man

1.6.5.20. Roughness

  • • Often a successful poem will seem like it could have been spoken on the spot
  • • It will resemble ordinary speech
  • • In doing so it is not perfect, its rhythms are not exact, its rhymes are not sing-song
  • • It is rough even though it contains very many, well-made centers
  • • The patterns are varied, not left all the same

In our time, many of us have been taught to strive for an insane perfection that means nothing. To get wholeness, you must try instead to strive for this kind of perfection, where things that don't matter are left rough and unimportant, and the things that really matter are given deep attention. This is a perfection that seems imperfect. But it is a far deeper thing.

—Christopher Alexander

1.6.5.20.1. Example of Roughness

1.6.5.21. The Second Coming

Turning and turning in the widening gyre4/10
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;5/10
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;6/10
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.5/10
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere6/10
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;3/11
The best lack all conviction, while the worst5/10
Are full of passionate intensity.5/10
Surely some revelation is at hand;5/10
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.4/10
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out5/11
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi5/12
Troubles my sight; somewhere in the sands of the desert5/13
A shape with a lion body and the head of a man,5/14
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,4/10
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it5/11
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.5/11
The darkness drops again; but now I know5/10
That twenty centuries of stony sleep4/10
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,4/11
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,7/10
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?4/10

    • • Rhythm is roughly iambic
    • • Syllables roughly 10 per line
    • • Physical line length is rough
    • • Only occasional rhyme
    • • Only slightly elevated diction
    • • The exceptions are interesting
      (gyre/falconer, bold/world, at hand/at hand, the sequence:
      4/10-5/11-5/12-5/13-5/14, 7/10)

1.6.5.22. Echoes

  • • Like repetition, but family resemblance not exact replication
  • • Centers that go together, are made from the same mind apprehending the same sorts of things
  • • Without echoes, each part of a poem will feel stuck on, obscure, random, or pasted in
  • • Loose rhyme is an echo, images that hang together form echoes
  • • Marvin Bell calls it “fishing back”

1.6.5.22.1. Example of Echoes

1.6.5.23. The Second Coming

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer; } couplet
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; } couplet
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight; somewhere in the sands of the desert
A shape with a lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stone sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?


    • • Image echoes
    • • Rhymes are echoes (near rhymes)
    • • The 2 rhymed couplets display an order which falls apart, echoing the statements of the first 4 lines

1.6.5.24. The Void

  • • The void is the quiet center of a poem
  • • Sometimes it is stillness or literally a quiet point someplace in a poem—frequently at the end
  • • Sometimes it is the space between stanzas or lines, sometimes it is the place of quiet resonance just after a poem ends
  • • A good center with this characteristic is at the heart of the poem and not at the fringes
  • • All the other centers support a center representing the void very strongly

1.6.5.24.1. Example of The Void

  • Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born
    • ❖ it follows a line with 7 stresses (7/10)
    • ❖ it follows such images as rough beast, vexed to nightmare, darkness drops, reel shadows, gaze blank and pitiless . . .
    • slouches is quiet
    • Bethlehem is peaceful
    • born is hopeful
    • ❖ the nativity image in our culture is one of stillness

1.6.5.24.2. Example of the Void

... somewhere in the sands of the desert
A shape with a lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.

  • • sits near the center of the poem
  • • combines a stillness with frantic motion and imminent danger
  • • slow and fast at the same time
  • • builds up syllabic length then drops it
  • • it is the central image

1.6.5.25. Simplicity and Inner Calm

  • • All irrelevant parts are gone
  • • The poem is as simple and spare as it can be and still retain its life
  • • Nothing more can be removed
  • • Each part seems simple and simply made
  • • There is no ostentation for ostentation's sake alone
  • • It is not naïvely simple—complex poems can exhibit simplicity and inner calm

1.6.5.26. Simplicity and Inner Calm

Here is a list of characteristics Alexander lists for Shaker furniture which exemplifies this characteristic:

  • it uses simple parts
  • the ornament is very sparse, but does occasionally exist
  • the proportions are unusual
  • many of the pieces are strange in some specific way which marks them as indeed unusual
  • the pieces have a recognizable function, but are nonetheless severe
  • finally, everything is still, silent

—Christopher Alexander

1.6.5.27. Simplicity and Inner Calm

It has to do with a certain slowness, majesty, quietness, which I think of as inner calm.

This quality comes about when everything unnecessary is removed. All centers that are not actively supporting other centers are stripped out, cut out, excised. What is left, when boiled away, is the structure in a state of inner calm.

It is essential that the great beauty and intricacy of ornament go only just far enough to bring this calm into being, and not so far that it destroys it.

—Christopher Alexander

1.6.5.27.1. Example of Simplicity and Inner Calm

... somewhere in the sands of the desert
A shape with a lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.

  • • This passage sits near the center of the poem, and is a place of simplicity despite its ominous image
  • somewhere
    • ❖ rhythmically necessary
    • ❖ uncertain certainty which permeates the poem
  • A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun
    • ❖ makes the vast image an intelligence
    • ❖ otherworldliness
  • slow thighs
    • ❖ extreme power under control
    • ❖ getting ready for something
    • ❖ confidence
    • ❖ sensuality
  • indignant desert birds
    • ❖ important link to first images in poem
    • ❖ good hard sounds
    • ❖ establishes with the sun, the shadows, and the beast a verticality
    • ❖ the birds' movements and slow thighs form a contrast

1.6.5.28. Not Separateness

What Not Separateness means, quite simply, is that we experience a living whole as being at one with the world, and not separate from it—according to its degree of wholeness.

This is, finally, perhaps the most important property of all. In my experiments with shapes and buildings, I have discovered that the other fourteen ways in which centers come to life, will make a center which is compact, beautiful, determined, subtle—but, without this fifteenth property, are still often somehow strangely separate, cut off from what lies around it, lonely, awkward in its loneliness, too brittle, too sharp, perhaps too well delineated—above all too egocentric, because it shouts “Look at me, look at me, look how beautiful I am.”

—Christopher Alexander

  • • This is the primary characteristic of a poem: If it has this characteristic, it succeeds
  • • Each center should be measured by this characteristic

1.6.5.28.1. Example of Not Separateness

  • • Every center in The Second Coming is connected to other centers within it
  • • The references in the poem are to the natural, spiritual, mental, and sensual world
  • • Its language is part of ordinary language
  • • It is part of the world and otherworldly at the same time
  • • It is, in short, a center in the world of anyone who reads it

1.6.6. A Poem is a Beautiful* Text

  • • Beauty is not prettiness
  • • Beauty is aesthetics + poetic order
  • • A poem with strong poetic order can take on any form
  • • Centers unify our familiar but disjoint craft elements
  • • Centers help us focus on relationships between elements within a poem
  • • Centers capture the elusive qualities we are so fond of
  • • A poem is a text with strong poetic order

1.6.7. Poetic Order versus Structuralism

  • • Structuralism is a literary theory of how utterances operate
  • • Structuralism is posterior to phenomenology which sought to expose what is given by a process of bracketing off that which is not directly given (Husserl) or given in the experience of life and its breakdown (Heidegger)
    • ❖ referents are separate from signs (sign=signifier+signified), no 1-1 correspondence between signs and referents—a signifier is defined by its set of differences (what it isn't)
    • ❖ actual utterances (parole) are too chaotic and problematic, so structuralists look only at the system of signs and the code of reference for interpreting them (langue)
    • ❖ a text (poem) is a system of signs—signs plus relations
    • ❖ in such a system there are patterns—things in parallel, in opposition, etc—and these are central—for some structuralists, describing the system of oppositions is enough
  • • For Structuralism, the system of signs is the text
  • • For Poetic Order, the center of centers emerges from the text and our reading of it
  • • Poetic Order looks at the utterance (the text of the poem) as a 2-dimensional visual text with an additional dimension of aural information
  • • Poetic Order operates at reading-time and causes an experience of wholeness and life in the reader
  • • Structuralist interpretation is posterior to Poetic Order
  • • Any literary theory of meaning, history, political importance can occur before or after an experience of Poetic Order

1.6.7.1. Post-Structuralism

  • • Post-structuralism rejects any 1-1 correspondence between signifier and signified, and hence looks at the text of the poem (the signifiers) and not an underlying system of signs
  • • Post-structuralism suspects as unhealthy those texts in which words and/or form appear “natural” though the content is radical; in such texts, there is (usually, always) an underlying metaphysics that accepts and imposes its (political) power on the reader—hence the technique of deconstruction to reveal these constructions
  • • Poetic Order is orthogonal to such analyses because it is part of the signifier experience
  • • Poetic Order can be deconstructed to reveal the inherent Other in the text (or not), but this is a posterior analysis (and perhaps deconstruction is after all simply nonsensical)

1.6.8. Aesthetics

Poetic Order reveals why a poem is experienced as whole and alive, why a poem is experienced as a poem and not as doggerel

  • • Aesthetics is cultural, social, personal, or political and is experienced separate from Poetic Order
Diagram showing the relationship between aesthetics, poetic order, and beauty.

The diagram illustrates the relationship between aesthetics, poetic order, and beauty. At the top, the equation beauty = aesthetics + poetic order is displayed. Below this equation, four concepts are arranged in a diamond pattern, with arrows pointing from each concept to the central equation. On the left side, the concepts are "cultural/subjective" (top) and "choice of centers" (bottom). On the right side, the concepts are "acultural/objective" (top) and "strength, wholeness, aliveness of centers" (bottom). The arrows indicate that both the cultural/subjective and acultural/objective aspects contribute to the "aesthetics" part of the equation, while the choice of centers and the strength/wholeness/aliveness of centers contribute to the "poetic order" part.

Diagram showing the relationship between aesthetics, poetic order, and beauty.
  • • Aesthetics and culture determine the choice of centers and where they are placed; for example, the choice of formal verse supplies centers through metrical and rhyme schemes
  • • Poetic order determines whether the poem which is a center of centers is whole and alive:
    • ❖ a poem of any aesthetics can be beautiful
    • ❖ a poem without poetic order cannot be beautiful—poetic order is necessary to beauty
    • ❖ a poem of the “wrong” aesthetics with poetic order might be perceived as not beautiful but well-written, well-constructed, etc—in short, as a poem, but as an ugly, unappealing one
  • • A strong center—a poem—can be made from many centers or from only a few strong ones
    • ❖ formal verse tends to have more centers than free verse, but not necessarily stronger ones
    • ❖ free verse needs to compensate for fewer metrical- and rhyme-based centers, so imagery and metaphor are more important or at least more prevalent

1.6.9. Alexander's Comparative Test for Beauty

  • Which of the two seems to generate a greater feeling of life in me?
  • Which of the two makes me more aware of my own life?
  • Which of the two makes me feel a greater wholesomeness in myself?
  • Which of the two is more like my best self, or which of the two seems more like a picture of the self?
  • Which of the two makes me feel devotion, or inspires devotion in me?
  • Which of the two makes me more aware of God, or makes me feel close to God?
  • How do I observe the rising and falling of my humanity: Which of the two causes a greater rising of my humanity?
  • Which of the two has more feeling in it or, more accurately: Which of the two makes me experience a deeper feeling of unity in myself?

—Christopher Alexander

1.6.10. Finding Failures

  • • Find centers
  • • Map their relationships
  • • Evaluate their strength
  • • Reflect:
    • ❖ is there a place in the poem devoid of (strong) centers?
    • ❖ is there a center that is weak?
    • ❖ is there a center you could add that would strengthen existing centers?
    • ❖ is there a center you could remove that would strengthen the other existing centers?
    • ❖ does the entire poem seem like a (strong) center?
    • ❖ are any of the 15 characteristics missing?
    • ❖ is the entire poem Not Separate?

1.6.11. The Second Coming

1.6.11.1. The Second Coming

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
(Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight; somewhere in the sands of the desert
A shape with a lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

1.6.12. Some Weak Centers

  • • darker shading means weaker center
  • • boxes are weak stress
  • • some of the weak centers seem to be filling out syllable count
  • • but, not too many weak centers

1.6.13. San Sepolcro†

In this blue light

I can take you there,
snow having made me
a world of bone
seen through to. This
is my house,

my section of Etruscan
wall, my neighbor's
lemon trees, and, just below
the lower church,
the airplane factory.
A rooster

crows all day from mist
outside the walls,
There's milk on the air,
ice on the oily
lemonskins. How clean
the mind is,

holy grave. It is this girl
by Piero
della Francesca, unbuttoning
her blue dress,
her mantle of weather,
to go into

labor. Come we can go in.

It is before
the birth of god. No one
has risen yet
to the museums, to the assembly
line—bodies

and wings—to the open air
market. This is
what the living do: go in.

It's a long way.
And the dress keeps opening
from eternity

to privacy, quickening.
Inside, at the heart,
is tragedy, the present moment
forever stillborn,
but going in, each breath
is a button

coming undone, something terribly
nimble-fingered
finding all of the stops.


Jorie Graham, Erosion

1.6.13.1. San Sepolcro

In this blue light
I can take you there,
snow having made me
a world of bone
seen through to. This
is my house,

my section of Etruscan
wall, my neighbor's
lemon trees, and, just below
the lower church,
the airplane factory.
A rooster

crows all day from mist
outside the walls,
There's milk on the air,
ice on the oily
lemonskins. How clean
the mind is,

holy grave. It is this girl
by Piero
della Francesca, unbuttoning
her blue dress,
her mantle of weather,
to go into

labor, Come we can go in.

It is before
the birth of god. No one
has risen yet
to the museums, to the assembly
line—bodies

and wings—to the open air
market. This is
what the living do: go in.

It's a long way,
And the dress keeps opening
from eternity

to privacy, quickenings.
Inside, at the heart,
is tragedy, the present moment
forever stillborn,
but going in, each breath,
is a button

coming undone, something terribly
nimble-fingered
finding all of the stops.

           inside/outside

           blue

           desolation

weak centers underlined

           birth/death

           snow/mist

           wings/flight

dashed shapes are weaker than solid

1.6.13.2. Levels of Scale

In this blue light
I can take you there,
know having made me
a world of bone
seen through to, This
is my house,

my section of Etruscan
wall, my neighbor's
lemon trees, and, just below
the lower church,
the airplane factory.
A rooster

crows all day from mist
outside the walls,
There's milk on the air,
ice on the oily
lemonskins. How clean
the mind is,

holy grave. It is this girl
by Piero
della Francesca, unbuttoning
her blue dress,
her mantle of weather,
to go into

labor. Come we can go in.

It is before
the birth of god. No one
has risen yet
to the museums, to the assembly
line—bodies

and wings—to the open air
market. This is
what the living do: go in.

It's a long way.
And the dress keeps opening
from eternity

to privacy, quickening.

Inside, at the heart,
is tragedy, the present moment
forever stillborn.
but going in, each breath
is a button

coming undone, something terribly
nimble-fingered
finding all of the stops.

  • • Relatively few nested centers
  • • None are particularly strong
  • • Compare this to the Levels of Scale in The Second Coming

1.6.13.3. Strong Centers

In this blue light

I can take you there,
snow having made me
a world of bone
seen through to. This
is my house,

my section of Etruscan
wall, my neighbor's
lemon trees, and, just below
the lower church,
the airplane factory.
A rooster

crows all day from mist
outside the walls,
There's milk on the air,
ice on the oily
lemonskins. How clean

the mind is,

holy grave. It is this girl
by Piero

della Francesca, unbuttoning

her blue dress,

her mantle of weather,

to go into

labor. Come we can go in.

It is before
the birth of god. No one
has risen yet
to the museums, to the assembly
line—bodies

and wings—to the open air
market. This is
what the living do: go in.

It's a long way.
And the dress keeps opening
from eternity

to privacy, quickening.

Inside, at the heart,
is tragedy, the present moment
forever stillborn,
but going in, each breath
is a button

coming undone, something terribly
nimble-fingered
finding all of the stops.


    • • Four strong centers
    • • Compare this to the Strong Centers in The Second Coming

1.6.13.4. Boundaries

In this blue light

I can take you there,
snow having made me
a world of bone
seen through to. This
is my house,

my section of Etruscan
wall, my neighbor's
lemon trees, and, just below
the lower church,
the airplane factory.

A rooster

crows all day from mist
outside the walls,
There's milk on the air,
ice on the oily

lemonskins. How clean

the mind is,

holy grave. It is this girl

by Piero

della Francesca, unbuttoning
her blue dress,
her mantle of weather,
to go into

labor. Come we can go in.

It is before
the birth of god. No one
has risen yet
to the museums, to the assembly
line—bodies

and wings—to the open air
market. This is
what the living do: go in.

It's a long way.
And the dress keeps opening
from eternity

to privacy, quickening.

Inside, at the heart,
is tragedy, the present moment
forever stillborn,

but going in, each breath
is a button

coming undone, something terribly
nimble-fingered
finding all of the stops.


    • • Just one major Boundary center
    • • Enjambments (sometimes across stanza breaks) try to form boundaries, but there are no real centers there

1.6.13.5. Alternating Repetition

In this blue light

I can take you there,
snow having made me
a world of bone

seen through to. This
is my house,

my section of Etruscan

wall, my neighbor's
lemon trees, and, just below
the lower church,
the airplane factory.

A rooster

crows all day from mist
outside the walls,

There's milk on the air,
ice on the oily

lemonskins. How clean
the mind is,

holy grave. It is this girl
by Piero

della Francesca, unbuttoning

her blue dress,
her mantle of weather,
to go into

labor. Come we can go in.

It is before
the birth of god. No one
has risen yet
to the museums, to the assembly
line—bodies

and wings—to the open air
market. This is
what the living do: go in.

It's a long way.
And the dress keeps opening
from eternity

to privacy, quickening.

Inside, at the heart,
is tragedy, the present moment
forever stillborn,
but going in each breath
is a button

coming undone, something terribly
nimble-fingered
finding all of the stops.


    • • Mostly simple Repetition of words and phrases intertwined
    • • Repetition of images not shown, but they complete the alternation

1.6.13.5.1. Positive Space

A diagram showing two columns of text with arrows connecting specific words and phrases between them, illustrating 'Positive Space' connections.

The diagram illustrates 'Positive Space' connections between two columns of text. Arrows indicate the flow of connections between specific words and phrases.

Left Column Text:

In this blue light
I can take you there,
snow having made me
a world of bone
seen through to. This
is my house,
my section of Etruscan
wall, my neighbor's
lemon trees, and, just below
the lower church,
the airplane factory.
A rooster
crows all day from mist
outside the walls,
There's milk on the air,
ice on the oily
lemonskins. How clean
the mind is,
holy grave. It is this girl
by Piero
della Francesca, unbuttoning
her blue dress,
her mantle of weather,
to go into

Right Column Text:

labor. Come we can go in.
It is before
the birth of god. No one
has risen yet
to the museums, to the assembly
line—bodies
and wings—to the open air
market. This is
what the living do: go in.
It's a long way.
And the dress keeps opening
from eternity
to privacy, quickening.
Inside, at the heart,
is tragedy, the present moment
forever stillborn
but going in, each breath
is a button
coming undone, something terribly
nimble-fingered
finding all of the stops.

Connections (Arrows):

  • From "snow" to "labor. Come we can go in."
  • From "a world of bone" to "It is before the birth of god."
  • From "seen through to. This" to "to the museums, to the assembly line—bodies"
  • From "is my house," to "and wings—to the open air market."
  • From "my section of Etruscan wall," to "what the living do: go in."
  • From "my neighbor's lemon trees, and, just below the lower church, the airplane factory." to "It's a long way."
  • From "A rooster crows all day from mist outside the walls," to "And the dress keeps opening from eternity"
  • From "There's milk on the air, ice on the oily lemonskins. How clean the mind is," to "to privacy, quickening."
  • From "holy grave. It is this girl by Piero della Francesca, unbuttoning her blue dress," to "Inside, at the heart, is tragedy, the present moment forever stillborn"
  • From "her mantle of weather, to go into" to "but going in, each breath is a button"
  • From "labor. Come we can go in." to "It is before the birth of god."
  • From "It is before the birth of god." to "has risen yet to the museums, to the assembly line—bodies"
  • From "has risen yet to the museums, to the assembly line—bodies" to "and wings—to the open air market."
  • From "and wings—to the open air market." to "what the living do: go in."
  • From "what the living do: go in." to "It's a long way."
  • From "It's a long way." to "And the dress keeps opening from eternity"
  • From "And the dress keeps opening from eternity" to "to privacy, quickening."
  • From "to privacy, quickening." to "Inside, at the heart, is tragedy, the present moment forever stillborn"
  • From "Inside, at the heart, is tragedy, the present moment forever stillborn" to "but going in, each breath is a button"
  • From "but going in, each breath is a button" to "coming undone, something terribly nimble-fingered finding all of the stops."
  • From "coming undone, something terribly nimble-fingered finding all of the stops." to "labor. Come we can go in."
A diagram showing two columns of text with arrows connecting specific words and phrases between them, illustrating 'Positive Space' connections.
  • • Several Positive Space chains, including two long ones
  • • None of the centers here is brimming with forces directed to other centers

1.6.13.5.2. Good Shape

Diagram of the poem 'Good Shape' with annotations and arrows showing connections between words and phrases across stanzas.

The diagram illustrates the 'Good Shape' of the poem by connecting words and phrases across stanzas. The connections are as follows:

  • 'blue light' (Stanza 1) connects to 'opening' (Stanza 2).
  • 'snow' (Stanza 1) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'seen through to' (Stanza 1) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'This' (Stanza 1) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'wall' (Stanza 1) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'lemon trees' (Stanza 1) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'the lower church' (Stanza 1) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'the airplane factory' (Stanza 1) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'A rooster' (Stanza 1) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'crows all day from' (Stanza 1) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'mist' (Stanza 1) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'outside the walls' (Stanza 1) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'There's milk on the air' (Stanza 1) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'ice on the oily' (Stanza 1) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'lemonskins' (Stanza 1) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'How clean the mind is' (Stanza 1) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'holy grave' (Stanza 1) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'It is this girl' (Stanza 1) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'by Piero della Francesca' (Stanza 1) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'unbuttoning her' (Stanza 1) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'blue dress' (Stanza 1) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'her mantle of weather' (Stanza 1) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'to go into' (Stanza 1) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'labor' (Stanza 2) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'Come we can go in' (Stanza 2) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'It is before the birth of god' (Stanza 2) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'No one has risen yet' (Stanza 2) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'to the museums, to the assembly line—bodies' (Stanza 2) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'and wings—to the open air market' (Stanza 2) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'This is what the living do: go in' (Stanza 2) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'It's a long way' (Stanza 2) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'And the dress keeps opening from eternity' (Stanza 2) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'to privacy, quickening' (Stanza 2) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'Inside, at the heart, is tragedy, the present moment forever stillborn' (Stanza 2) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'but going in, each breath is a button' (Stanza 2) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'coming undone, something terribly nimble-fingered' (Stanza 2) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).
  • 'finding all of the stops' (Stanza 2) connects to 'quicken' (Stanza 2).

The label 'Good Shape' is placed at the bottom of the diagram, indicating the overall geometric shape of the poem.

Diagram of the poem 'Good Shape' with annotations and arrows showing connections between words and phrases across stanzas.
  • • Really only 2 centers with Good Shape, the stronger being the last stanza
  • • The overall (geometric) shape of the poem is a potential instance of Good Shape, but in this poem the stanza shape seems not to support many centers

1.6.13.6. Local Symmetries

In this blue light

I can take you there,
snow having made me
a world of bone
seen through to. This
is my house,

my section of Etruscan
wall, my neighbor's
lemon trees, and, just below
the lower church,
the airplane factory.
A rooster

crows all day from mist
outside the walls,
There's milk on the air,
ice on the oily
lemonskins. How clean
the mind is,

holy grave. It is this girl
by Piero
della Francesca, unbuttoning
her blue dress,
her mantle of weather,
to go into

labor. Come we can go in.

It is before
the birth of god. No one
has risen yet
to the museums, to the assembly
line—bodies

and wings—to the open air
market. This is
what the living do: go in.
It's a long way.

And the dress keeps opening
from eternity

to privacy, quickening.
Inside, at the heart,
is tragedy, the present moment
forever stillborn,
but going in, each breath
is a button

coming undone, something terribly
nimble-fingered
finding all of the stops.


    • • Only the shape of the poem demonstrates Local Symmetries
    • • The shape of the poem creates a number of weak lines when lines ought to be strong centers

1.6.13.7. Deep Interlock and Ambiguity

In this blue light

I can take you there,
snow having made me
a world of bone
seen through to. This
is my house,

my section of Etruscan
wall, my neighbor's
lemon trees, and, just below
the lower church,
the airplane factory.

A rooster

crows all day from mist
outside the walls,

There's milk on the air,
ice on the oily

lemonskins. How clean

the mind is,

holy grave. It is this girl

by Piero

della Francesca, unbuttoning

her blue dress,

her mantle of weather,

to go into

labor. Come we can go in.

It is before
the birth of god. No one
has risen yet
to the museums, to the assembly
line—bodies

and wings—to the open air
market. This is
what the living do: go in.

It's a long way.
And the dress keeps opening
from eternity

to privacy, quickening.

Inside, at the heart,
is tragedy, the present moment
forever stillborn,

but going in, each breath
is a button

coming undone, something terribly
nimble-fingered
finding all of the stops.


    • • The large center forms a boundary between images that speak of inside/outside and birth/death

1.6.13.8. Contrast

In this blue light

I can take you there,
snow having made me

a (world of bone)
(seen through to) This
is my house,

my section of Etruscan
(wall), my neighbor's
lemon trees, and, just below
the lower church,
the airplane factory.

A rooster

crows all day from mist
(outside the walls),
There's milk on the air,
ice on the oily
lemonskins. How clean
the mind is,

(holy grave). It is this girl
by Piero
della Francesca (unbuttoning)
her blue dress,
her mantle of weather,
to (go into)

(labor), Come we can (go in.)

It is before
the birth of god. No one
has (risen) yet
to the museums, to the assembly
line—bodies

and wings—to the open air
market. This is
what the (living) do: (go in.)

It's a long way.
And the dress keeps (opening)
from eternity

to privacy, (quickenings).
(Inside), at the heart,
is tragedy, the present moment
forever (stillborn),
but (going in), each (breath)
is a button

coming undone, something terribly
nimble-fingered
finding all of the stops.


    • • Inside/outside
    • • Birth/death

1.6.13.9. Gradients

In this blue light
I can take you there,
snow having made me

a world of bone
seen through to. This
is my house,

my section of Etruscan
wall, my neighbor's
lemon trees, and, just below
the lower church,
the airplane factory.

A rooster

crows all day from mist
outside the walls,
There's milk on the air,
ice on the oily
lemonskins. How clean
the mind is,

holy grave. It is this girl
by Piero
della Francesca, unbuttoning
her blue dress,
her mantle of weather,
to go into

labor. Come we can go in.

It is before
the birth of god. No one
has risen yet
to the museums, to the assembly
line—bodies

and wings—to the open air
market. This is
what the living do: go in.

It's a long way.
And the dress keeps opening
from eternity

to privacy, quickening.

Inside, at the heart,
is tragedy, the present moment
forever stillborn,
but going in, each breath
is a button

coming undone, something terribly
nimble-fingered
finding all of the stops.


    • • First 7 centers show a cinematic expansion of the scene from the most inner and private to the entire world (outside the walls)
    • • The last 3 show another opening from a point in time to eternity

1.6.13.10. Roughness

In this blue light

I can take you there,
snow having made me
a world of bone
seen through to. This
is my house,

my section of Etruscan
wall, my neighbor's
lemon trees, and, just below
the lower church,
the airplane factory.
A rooster

crows all day from mist
outside the walls,
There's milk on the air,
ice on the oily
lemonskins. How clean
the mind is,

holy grave. It is this girl
by Piero
della Francesca, unbuttoning
her blue dress,
her mantle of weather,
to go into

labor. Come we can go in.

It is before
the birth of god. No one
has risen yet
to the museums, to the assembly
line—bodies

and wings—to the open air
market. This is
what the living do: go in.

It's a long way.
And the dress keeps opening
from eternity

to privacy, quickening.
Inside, at the heart,
is tragedy, the present moment
forever stillborn,
but going in, each breath
is a button

coming undone, something terribly
nimble-fingered
finding all of the stops.


    • • Within the context of a strict visual form:
      • ❖ plain language
      • ❖ irregular rhythm

1.6.13.11. Echoes

In this blue light

I can take you there,

snow having made me

a world of bone

seen through to. This

is my house,

my section of Etruscan

wall, my neighbor's

lemon trees, and, just below

the lower church,

the airplane factory.

A rooster

crows all day from mist

outside the walls,

There's milk on the air,

ice on the oily

lemonskins. How clean

the mind is,

holy grave. It is this girl

by Piero

della Francesca, unbuttoning

her blue dress,

her mante of weather,

to go into

labor. Come we can go in.

It is before

the birth of god. No one

has risen yet

to the museums, to the assembly

line—bodies

and wings—to the open air

market. This is

what the living do: go in.

It's a long way.

And the dress keeps opening

from eternity

to privacy, quickening.

Inside, at the heart,

is tragedy, the present moment

forever stillborn.

but going in, each breath

is a button

coming undone, something terribly

nimble-fingered

finding all of the stops.


    • • Echoes abound
    • mist/ice, both sound and sense

1.6.13.11.1. The Void

In this blue light

I can take you there,
snow having made me
a world of bone
seen through to. This
is my house,

my section of Etruscan
wall, my neighbor's
lemon trees, and, just below
the lower church,
the airplane factory.
A rooster

crows all day from mist
outside the walls,
There's milk on the air,
ice on the oily
lemonskins. How clean
the mind is,

holy grave. It is this girl
by Piero
della Francesca, unbuttoning
her blue dress,
her mantle of weather,
to go into

labor. Come we can go in.

It is before
the birth of god. No one
has risen yet
to the museums, to the assembly
line—bodies

and wings—to the open air
market. This is
what the living do: go in.

It's a long way.
And the dress keeps opening
from eternity

to privacy, quickening.

Inside, at the heart,
is tragedy, the present moment
forever stillborn,
but going in, each breath
is a button

coming undone, something terribly
nimble-fingered
finding all of the stops.


    • • This is, to me, the only place of deep stillness in the poem

1.6.13.12. Simplicity and Inner Calm

In this blue light

I can take you there,
snow having made me
a world of bone
seen through to. This
is my house,

my section of Jerusalem
wall, my neighbor's
lemon trees, and, just below
the lower church,
the airplane factory.

A rooster

crows all day from mist
outside the walls,
There's milk on the air,
ice on the oily
lemonskins. How clean
the mind is,

holy grave. It is this girl
by Piero
della Francesca, unbuttoning
her blue dress,
her mantle of weather,
to go into

labor. Come we can go in.

It is before
the birth of god. No one
has risen yet
to the museums, to the assembly
line—bodies

and wings—to the open air
market. This is

what the living do: go in.

It's a long way.
And the dress keeps opening
from eternity

to privacy, quickening.

Inside, at the heart,
is tragedy, the present moment
forever stillborn,
but going in, each breath
is a button

coming undone, something terribly
nimble-fingered
finding all of the stops.


    • • There are a number of weak centers—removing them might strengthen the larger whole
    • • The form itself—a center—is particularly weak

1.6.13.13. Not Separateness

In this blue light

I can take you there,
snow having made me
a world of bone
seen through to. This
is my house,

my section of Etruscan
wall, my neighbor's
lemon trees, and, just below
the lower church,
the airplane factory.

A rooster

crows all day from mist
outside the walls,
There's milk on the air,
ice on the oily
lemonskins. How clean
the mind is,

holy grave. It is this girl
by Piero
della Francesca, unbuttoning
her blue dress,
her mantle of weather,
to go into

labor. Come we can go in.

It is before
the birth of god. No one
has risen yet
to the museums, to the assembly
line—bodies

and wings—to the open air
market. This is
what the living do: go in.

It's a long way.
And the dress keeps opening
from eternity

to privacy, quickening,
Inside, at the heart,
is tragedy, the present moment
forever stillborn,
but going in, each breath
is a button

coming undone, something terribly
nimble-fingered
finding all of the stops.


    • • Many of the centers are not interlocked with others
    • • The form of the poem is not a strong center
    • • The last center is supported by 4 other centers, but only one of them is very strong (representing The Void)
    • • Weak Not Separateness

1.6.13.14. Strengths of San Sepolcro

  • • Good Contrast with a number of interwoven contrasts
  • • Good Roughness marred by the unproductive form
  • • Excellent use of Echoes, very interwoven and ringing off each other
  • • A pretty good Void, but not supported as well as it could be

1.6.13.15. Failures of San Sepolcro

  • • Poor Levels of Scale: The poem is a string of weak centers with few nested centers
  • • There are not many Strong Centers: really only 4
  • Boundaries are weak, emphasizing that the poem is a string of centers
  • • Simple Repetition of words and phrases and some images could be a weakness
  • • No centers have strong Positive Space: The centers are spread out and strung together in long chains
  • • Only two strong centers have Good Shape—the last stanza and stanza 4, which is a little weaker than the last stanza
  • Local Symmetries only in the form of the poem, and the form creates a number of weak lines and missed opportunities for strong centers
  • • Not much Deep Interlock and Ambiguity, which indicates a diluted set of centers
  • • Good Gradients at the start of the poem with a near-total drop-off afterward
  • • Too much of the poem seems removable, and a number of weak lines—poor Simplicity and Inner Calm
  • • Weak Not Separateness because of weak, strung-together centers, unsupported Void, unproductive form

1.7. Some Comments

  • • The more I examined San Sepolcro the more I found to like about it
  • • If the form were abandoned, I feel a stronger poem would have emerged
  • • I initially felt that the last center was weak (the last stanza), but analysis yielded more support for it than I thought (though it is weaker than most of the centers in The Second Coming)
  • • This is an example of a radically different aesthetics from The Second Coming generating poetic order

1.7.1. Lourdes1†

A complex diagram of a poem by Bill Knott, 'Rome in Rome', with annotations for poetic devices like Alternating Repetition, Strong Center, Gradient, and Echoes. The poem is divided into three stanzas, each with its own set of annotations.

The diagram illustrates the poetic structure of Bill Knott's poem "Rome in Rome" (from the collection Becos). The poem is divided into three stanzas, each enclosed in a rounded rectangle. Annotations with arrows point to specific words or phrases, identifying poetic devices and structural elements.

Stanza 1:

  • There are miracles that nobody survives
  • Observers of to remember where or when
  • And these are the only true miracles
  • Since we never hear about them
  • Since we never hear about them
  • It increases their chance of being common
  • Everyday things without witness without
  • Us even how absently close we brush

Stanza 2:

  • Teeth sneeze cook supper mail post
  • Cards in contrast official miracles take
  • A far off locale verifiable visitable
  • Some backwater never heard before of since

Stanza 3:

  • Not top the map but part the pilgrim's lips in
  • Springs up hospitals hotdog stands pour in
  • Testeroniacs pimple victims even
  • For credentials cripples pour in
  • Their limbs hung all whichway on them
  • Signs slats nailed on a slanting
  • Direction post at a muddy crossroads
  • In the boondocks of a forgotten place

Annotations and Devices:

  • Alternating Repetition: Points to "miracles" and "them" in Stanza 1; "top", "part", "in" in Stanza 3.
  • Strong Center: Points to "miracles" in Stanza 1; "Teeth sneeze" in Stanza 2; "top" in Stanza 3.
  • Gradient: Points to the transition from Stanza 1 to Stanza 2.
  • Weak Centers: Points to "when" and "chance of being common" in Stanza 1.
  • Contrast: Points to "chance of being common" in Stanza 1; "Cards in contrast" in Stanza 2.
  • Local Symmetry: Points to "chance of being common" in Stanza 1; "signs slats" in Stanza 3.
  • Alternating Repetition: Points to "chance of being common" in Stanza 1; "pour in" in Stanza 3.
  • enjambment Boundary: Points to the end of Stanza 1.
  • confusing enjambment Boundary: Points to the end of Stanza 2.
  • Echoes: Points to "them" in Stanza 1; "take" in Stanza 2; "pour in" in Stanza 3.
  • weak/ambiguity: Points to "how" in Stanza 1.
  • strong center: Points to "Teeth sneeze" in Stanza 2; "top" in Stanza 3.
  • Roughness: Points to "Teeth sneeze" in Stanza 2; "limbs" in Stanza 3.
  • noise: Points to "top" in Stanza 3.
  • Contrast: Points to "Springs up hospitals" in Stanza 3.
  • not a word: Points to "Testeroniacs" in Stanza 3.
  • strong center: Points to "Testeroniacs" in Stanza 3.
  • Echoes: Points to "pour in" in Stanza 3.
  • boring Alternating Repetition: Points to "pour in" in Stanza 3.
  • Local Symmetry: Points to "signs slats" in Stanza 3.
  • Echoes: Points to "direction post" in Stanza 3.
  • image of hopelessness: Points to "boondocks" in Stanza 3.
  • weaker center than previous stanza: Points to "direction post" in Stanza 3.
A complex diagram of a poem by Bill Knott, 'Rome in Rome', with annotations for poetic devices like Alternating Repetition, Strong Center, Gradient, and Echoes. The poem is divided into three stanzas, each with its own set of annotations.

Bill Knott, Rome in Rome (Release Press, 1976), and Becos (Random House, 1983)

1.7.2. Lourdes1

Diagram of a poem by Lourdes with annotations. The poem is divided into stanzas. Annotations include 'sense?', 'sing-song not Rough', 'weak centers', 'weak/ambiguity', 'confusing enjambment Boundary', 'not a word', 'boring Alternating Repetition', and 'weaker center than previous stanza'. Words are boxed or circled to highlight specific features.

There are miracles that nobody survives
Observers of to remember where or when
And these are the only true miracles
Since we never hear about them
Since we never hear about them
It increases their chance of being common
Everyday things without witness without
Us even how absently close we brush
Teeth sneeze cook supper mail post
Cards in contrast official miracles take
A far off locale verifiable visitable
Some backwater never heard before of since
Not pop the map but part the pilgrim's lips it
Springs up hospitals hotdog stands pour in
Testeroniacs pimple victims even
For credentials cripples pour in
Their limbs hung all whichway on them
Signslats nailed on a slanting
Direction-post at a muddy crossroads
In the boondocks of a forgotten place

sense?
sing-song
not Rough

weak centers

weak/ambiguity

confusing enjambment
Boundary

not a word

boring
Alternating
Repetition

weaker center than previous stanza

Diagram of a poem by Lourdes with annotations. The poem is divided into stanzas. Annotations include 'sense?', 'sing-song not Rough', 'weak centers', 'weak/ambiguity', 'confusing enjambment Boundary', 'not a word', 'boring Alternating Repetition', and 'weaker center than previous stanza'. Words are boxed or circled to highlight specific features.

1.7.3. Lourdes2

Diagram of a poem by Lourdes2 with annotations. The poem is written in a series of lines, with some words underlined and some words in parentheses. Annotations with arrows point to specific words or phrases, explaining their function or meaning. The annotations include: 'sense fixed' pointing to 'Us even—how'; 'sing-song fixed' pointing to 'hear tell'; 'weak centers remain ("—" added)' pointing to 'them' and 'them'; 'confusing enjambment Boundary fixed' pointing to 'Us even—how'; 'weak end word now wrapped' pointing to 'postcards'; 'Echoes retained, better end words, better sense' pointing to 'some backwater—or podunk'; 'weak end word wrapped' pointing to 'part the pilgrim's'; 'weak end word gone' pointing to 'hot dog'; 'closer to real word better weak end word' pointing to 'cripples—their'; 'weak end word gone' pointing to 'crossroads'; 'better noise and sense' pointing to 'Limbs (misled and skewed and crisscross)'; 'very strong center' pointing to 'On a signpost bent over a weedy crossroads'; and '"muddy" implied well-worn, "weedy" implies deserted' pointing to 'weedy crossroads'. There are also arrows indicating the flow of the poem and the relationship between different lines.

There are miracles that nobody survives
No one comes screaming of where what when
And these are the only true miracles
Since we never hear tell about them
Since we never hear tell about them
It increases their chance of being common
Everyday events without witness without
sense fixed — Us even—how absently close we brush
Teeth sneeze cook supper mail postcards
In contrast official miracles take a far
Off locale some backwater—or podunk
Which although unverifiable is visitable
Not pop the map but part the pilgrim's
Lips it springs up hospitals hot dog
Stands pour in testosteroniacs pimple
Victims but most of all cripples—their
Limbs (misled and skewed and crisscross)
Like—(roadsigns) that (point everywhere)
On a signpost bent over a weedy crossroads
In the boondocks of a forgotten place

sense fixed →

sing-song fixed →

weak centers remain
("—" added)

confusing enjambment
Boundary fixed

weak end word
now wrapped

Echoes retained,
better end words,
better sense

weak end word
wrapped

weak end word
gone

closer to real word
better weak end word

weak end word gone

better noise
and sense

very strong center

"muddy" implied well-worn,
"weedy" implies deserted

new Echoes

Diagram of a poem by Lourdes2 with annotations. The poem is written in a series of lines, with some words underlined and some words in parentheses. Annotations with arrows point to specific words or phrases, explaining their function or meaning. The annotations include: 'sense fixed' pointing to 'Us even—how'; 'sing-song fixed' pointing to 'hear tell'; 'weak centers remain ("—" added)' pointing to 'them' and 'them'; 'confusing enjambment Boundary fixed' pointing to 'Us even—how'; 'weak end word now wrapped' pointing to 'postcards'; 'Echoes retained, better end words, better sense' pointing to 'some backwater—or podunk'; 'weak end word wrapped' pointing to 'part the pilgrim's'; 'weak end word gone' pointing to 'hot dog'; 'closer to real word better weak end word' pointing to 'cripples—their'; 'weak end word gone' pointing to 'crossroads'; 'better noise and sense' pointing to 'Limbs (misled and skewed and crisscross)'; 'very strong center' pointing to 'On a signpost bent over a weedy crossroads'; and '"muddy" implied well-worn, "weedy" implies deserted' pointing to 'weedy crossroads'. There are also arrows indicating the flow of the poem and the relationship between different lines.

1.7.4. Lourdes

  • • All but two weak centers repaired (and one of them was strengthened)
  • • Better end words in general strengthen existing centers
  • • Even when sentences and phrases remain the same, different lineation strengthens centers
  • • Subtle rhythm changes improve centers
  • • Last stanza—a major center—is greatly improved in terms of
    • ❖ noise
    • ❖ sense
    • ❖ internal Echoes and Echoes back to earlier centers
  • • The last stanza is beginning to exhibit The Void
  • • Overall poem displays Inner Calm and Simplicity, almost precisely the way Alexander describes it with respect to Shaker furniture
  • Not Separateness? Probably

1.7.5. Whispers of Immortality†

A diagram showing six stanzas of T.S. Eliot's poem 'Inventions of the March Hare' with annotations on their structural features like repetition, symmetry, and contrast.

The diagram illustrates the structural features of six stanzas from T.S. Eliot's poem "Inventions of the March Hare". Each stanza is enclosed in a rounded rectangle, and specific words or phrases are highlighted in smaller boxes or circles. Arrows point from these highlights to descriptive annotations on the right side of the page.

Stanza 1: Webster was much possessed by death;
He saw the skull beneath the skin;
And (breastless) creatures under ground
Leaned backward with a lipless grin.

Stanza 2: Daffodil bulbs instead of (balls)
Stared from the sockets of the (eyes!)
He knew that thought clings round dead limbs
Tightening its lusts and luxuries.

Stanza 3: I think John Donne was such another
With passions chiselled out of stone;
He found no substitute for death
But toothed the sweetness of the bone.

Stanza 4: Grishkin is nice; her Russian (eye)
Is underlined for emphasis;
Uncorseted, her friendly bust
Gives promise of (pneumatic bliss.)

Stanza 5: And some (abstracter entities)
Have not disused a certain charm.
But I must crawl between dry ribs
To keep my metaphysics warm.

Stanza 6: As long as Pipit is (alive)
One can be mischievous and brave;
But where there is no more misbehaviour
I would like my bones flung into her grave.

Annotations:

  • Alternating Repetition and Local Symmetries in the form (points to Stanza 1)
  • these are satisfactory centers which primarily set up the Contrast for the poem: life/death, bone/flesh, corporeal/spiritual (points to Stanza 1)
  • Echoes (points to Stanza 1)
  • Local Symmetries (points to Stanza 2)
  • weak (points to Stanza 2)
  • weak center; not much information, first line is weak, especially the word another (points to Stanza 3)
  • good center, Echoes, Contrast (points to Stanza 3)
  • not a center (points to Stanza 4)
  • weak center (points to Stanza 4)
  • a center; Echoes to breastless, sex, fleshiness (points to Stanza 4)
  • a little obscure: not full of air (points to Stanza 4)
  • Contrast, good center (points to Stanza 5)
  • weak center (points to Stanza 5)
  • good center, good Contrast, good Echoes, Roughness (points to Stanza 5)
  • mind/body Contrast is made a Gradient (points to Stanza 5)
  • obscure, not a center; Pipit refers to a character in A Cooking Egg (points to Stanza 6)
  • ok center (points to Stanza 6)
  • last stanza a disaster (points to Stanza 6)
A diagram showing six stanzas of T.S. Eliot's poem 'Inventions of the March Hare' with annotations on their structural features like repetition, symmetry, and contrast.

†T.S. Eliot, Inventions of the March Hare

1.7.6. Whispers of Immortality

  • • The centers demonstrate Levels of Scale because the poem divides into halves with the first more concerned with death and the second more concerned with life and lust. Each stanza has smaller centers as well, though they are not uniformly strong.
  • • There are Contrast, Gradients, Echoes, Alternating Repetition, Local Symmetries, and Roughness throughout.
  • • There are some Strong Centers, some Positive Space (centers pushing outwards) and some Good Shape (centers well supported).
  • • The form supplies Deep Interlock and there are some Ambiguous Boundaries.
  • • The poem doesn't demonstrate Simplicity and Inner Calm because there are too many things that could be changed or removed.
  • • It is unclear whether the poem itself demonstrates Not Separateness.

1.7.7. Whispers of Immortality

Webster was much possessed by death;
He saw the skull beneath the skin;
And breastless creatures under ground
Leaned backward with a lipless grin.

Daffodil bulbs instead of balls
Stared from the sockets of the eyes!
He knew that thought clings round dead limbs
Tightening its lusts and luxuries.

I think John Donne was such another
Who cracked the marrow now and then.

good noise

Our sighs pursue th' elusive shade
But these were really serious men.

weak

very weak line

Grishkin is nice; her Russian eye
Is underlined for emphasis;
Uncorseted, her friendly bust
Gives promise of pneumatic bliss.

And some abstracter entities

Preserve a sacerdotal charm,

But I must crawl between dry ribs
To keep my metaphysics warm.

weaker than before; sacerdotal
add religious/spiritual Echo

these are individually weak and gain
little from the Echo

Our sighs pursue the vanished shade
And breathe a sanctified amen,

And yet the Sons of God descend
To entertain the wives of men.

And when the Female Soul departs
The Sons of Men turn up their eyes.
The Sons of God embrace the Grave—
The Sons of God are very wise.

interesting geometrical grouping

just plain weird

1.7.8. Whispers of Immortality

This version is decidedly worse because

  • • the new centers are very weak or not centers at all
  • • the alterations to existing centers don't go anywhere and in general is a degradation of their strength
  • • the new ending is not a very strong center at all and is so odd as to detract from the poem with any likelihood of Simplicity and Inner Calm and The Void destroyed

1.7.9. Try This on Your Piano Whispers of Immortality

Webster was much possessed by death,
Seeing the skull beneath the skin;
And breastless creatures under ground
Leaned backward with a lipless grin.

Daffodil bulbs instead of balls
Stared from the sockets of the eyes!
He knew that thought clings round dead limbs
Tightening its lusts and luxuries.

Donne, I suppose, was such another

Pursuing sense within the sense

To seize and clutch and penetrate.

Expert beyond experience

better center; more effectively conveys
Eliot's interest in certainty/uncertainty

better than previous, but a bit obscure with
the two senses of sense; it has lost some of
the Good Shape and Positive Space that
cracked the marrow had

good center, providing Echo of sex/life/body

good Local Symmetry

Echoes

He knew the anguish of the marrow,

Theague of the skeleton;

No contact possible to flesh

Allayed the fever of the bone.

good Alternating Repetition and
Local Symmetries

well-formed center

Grishkin is nice; her Russian eye
Is underlined for emphasis;
Uncorseted, her friendly bust
Gives promise of pneumatic bliss.

The sleek Brazilian jaguar

Does not, in his arboreal gloom,

Distil the strong rank feline smell

Of Grishkin in a drawing room.

weird, but moves away from European,
Old World feel of the rest of the poem

another sense

strong, weird Echoes

But Donne and Webster passed beyond

The text-book rudiments of lust,

And crawled at last between dry ribs,

Having their Ethics of the Dust.

ok center

still good

worse than original

1.7.10. Whispers of Immortality

Ezra Pound suggested:

If at A [the line Expert beyond experience], you shift to “my” i.e. your experience you would conceivably reach Grishkin’s Dunlap tyre boozum by the line of greatest directness.

If at B [the last stanza], you should then leap from the bloody, boozy and Barzeelyan Jag-U-ARRR to the Abstracter entities who would not have resisted either the boozum or the “smell of baked meats”, you could thence entauthenexelaunai to the earlier terminer

But I must crawl, etc. metaphysics warm

having in the lines precedent used your extant rhyme in “charm”, applying same to either boozum, odour, or enticement of the toutensemble

Omitting fourth stanza of present Nth. variant
wash the whole with virol and leave in hypo.

At any rate, I think this would bring us nearer the desired epithalamium of force,
clearness and bewtie.

That is:

  • ✓ restore the abstracter entities stanza
  • ✗ delete the ague/anguish stanza
  • ✗ make it “my” experience.

1.7.11. Whispers of Immortality

Webster was much possessed by death
And saw the skull beneath the skin;
And breastless creatures under ground
Leaned backward with a lipless grin.

Daffodil bulbs instead of balls
Stared from the sockets of the eyes!
He knew that thought clings round dead limbs
Tightening its lusts and luxuries.

Donne, I suppose, was such another
Pursuing sense within the sense
To seize and clutch and penetrate:

This passes my experience.

very much worse: loses Local
Symmetries, Echoes, and all
centeredness for the line and
jeopardizes the stanza

Grishkin is nice; her Russian eye
Is underlined for emphasis;
Uncorseted, her friendly bust
Gives promise of pneumatic bliss.

good center removed

The sleek Brazilian jaguar
Does not, in his arboreal gloom
Distil the strong rank feline smell
Of Grishkin in a drawing room.

There are abstracter entities

Which still maintain a certain charm.

this is worse than in the original;
nothing about it works as a center

But I must crawl between dry ribs
To keep my metaphysics warm.

1.7.12. Whispers of Immortality

Webster was much possessed by death
And saw the skull beneath the skin;
And breastless creatures under ground
Leaned backward with a lipless grin.

Daffodil bulbs instead of balls
Stared from the sockets of the eyes!
He knew that thought clings round dead limbs
Tightening its lusts and luxuries.

good center: sense here combines both meanings for the word, forms a good Boundary between the halves of the main Contrast and between the previous part of the poem and the next two lines; creates Deep Interlock and Ambiguity

Donne, I suppose, was such another

Who found no substitute for sense

To seize and clutch and penetrate,

Expert beyond experience

sense=thinking

sense=the senses

good centers restored

He knew the anguish of the marrow
The ague of the skeleton;
No contact possible to flesh
Allayed the fever of the bone.

there is a jump between these two stanzas, and these asterisks reassure us

* * * * *

Grishkin is nice: her Russian eye
Is underlined for emphasis;
Uncorseted, her friendly bust
Gives promise of pneumatic bliss.

The sleek Brazilian jaguar
Does not in his arboreal gloom
Distil so rank a feline smell
As Grishkin in a drawing-room.

And even the Abstract Entities

Circumambulate her charm:

But our lot crawl between dry ribs

To keep our metaphysics warm.

good improvement, Contrast between cerebral circumambulate and fleshy charm, odd image, Alternating Repetition between latinate circumambulate / anglo-saxon charm and latinate metaphysics / anglo-saxon warm

This poem is just about done

1.7.13. Whispers of Immortality†

Webster was much possessed by death
And saw the skull beneath the skin;
And breastless creatures under ground
Leaned backward with a lipless grin.

Daffodil bulbs instead of balls
Stared from the sockets of the eyes!
He knew that thought clings round dead limbs
Tightening its lusts and luxuries.

Donne, I suppose, was such another
Who found no substitute for sense,
To seize and clutch and penetrate;
Expert beyond experience,

He knew the anguish of the marrow
The ague of the skeleton;
No contact possible to flesh
Allayed the fever of the bone.

*****

Grishkin is nice: her Russian eye
Is underlined for emphasis;
Uncorseted, her friendly bust
Gives promise of pneumatic bliss.

The couched Brazilian jaguar
Compels the scampering marmoset
With subtle effluence of cat;
Grishkin has a maisonnette;

The sleek Brazilian jaguar
Does not in its arboreal gloom
Distil so rank a feline smell
As Grishkin in a drawing-room.

And even the Abstract Entities
Circumambulate her charm;
But our lot crawls between dry ribs
To keep our metaphysics warm.

couched Echoes an unsaid crouched.
Couched also seems more appropriate to
Grishkin than to the jaguar, so it forms a
Boundary. Therefore, couched forms an Echo
both of Grishkin and the jaguar, both wildness
and civilization.

odd addition: why marmoset? The funny
rhyme with maisonnette?

Maybe it's supposed to be a Boundary,
linking the previous and next stanzas?

Marmoset is associated with the jaguar, wildness,
life, and the body; maisonnette is associated with
Grishkin, civilization, society, the mind.

Thus they form a Contrast and Echoes.

The stanza is Alternating Repetition:
jaguar/marmoset/cat/maisonnette.

The stanza stands out, is awkwardly lonely,
strangely separate. It does not demonstrate Not
Separateness

published version

1.8. Conclusion

  • • The theory of poetic order appears to be a real step toward understanding how poems work
  • • The theory links writing with the geometric arts—painting and architecture
  • • Centers abstract the particular craft techniques we already know
  • • The theory reveals where the Structuralists went wrong
  • • The theory provides a systematic way to evaluate poems
  • • The theory of poetic order is a useful tool for locating weaknesses in poems
  • • The theory is strong enough to help us with our own work
  • • The definition of poetry based on centers and poetic order . . .
    • ❖ . . . accounts for the role of aesthetics
    • ❖ . . . accounts for form and metrical verse
    • ❖ . . . accounts for the increased use of imagery in free verse
    • ❖ . . . encompasses prose poems
    • ❖ . . . is orthogonal (possibly posterior) to literary theory
    • ❖ . . . is satisfying