Trying to define a line-
A line of poetry starts as a blurry outline with some noise. The space and shapes the line occupies against a wall, a canvas, a page, a screen, build a visual architecture which occurs in poetry as immediate as being aware of your surroundings...almost unconsciously, our peripheral vision or, “line of sight” makes a determination for us-are we safe to proceed, is it aesthetically intriguing enough to want to look deeper? Is it intimidating or inviting?
The line of sight is most obvious and easily interpreted in the paintings of a single dimension such as is utilized in compound poetry.
A line is a march. A single file of footsteps to follow, a direction to take. This why the end of a line in poetry is called a foot.
A line is a direction. A line in a script, a cue we take to assume the role of the Poet, we get into character when we read a poem, adjusting our costume, vernacular, inflection, tone and put on their shoes.
A line of poetry is a family of words, stuck together whether they like it or not.
Throw me a line
You are an English teacher out with friends
It is after hours, late at night
And you are not in dress code attire
Your hair is down, your skin smells
of warm peach nectar and musk instead of
gum and lead
and you fear you may get a detention
Yourself
Live & Learn
Truth or Dare
Not tardy to the scheduled seedy establishment,
the Lowered Bar
thankfully dark inside, unable to see
past your drink, as stiff as
the dank ambiance provides
You decide to only have two…or three-we’ll see…
In saunters a disheveled man with a clear plan
You are in his eyes, throwing you a line he tries
“If I could rearrange the alphabet I’d put ‘U’ and ‘I’ together,”
Rebelliously you respond-
“I’d give you an A for effort but your words are like a broken pencil-pointless.”
Image of painting by Ivan Grohar (1867-1911) Slovenia [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
