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Several of Verlene's poems have been published in the Folk Harp Journal and other publications, and a number of them have been imported into her songwriting. You might find a poem here that is developed more in one of her songs on her lyrics pages, or even taken word for word. The poems are divided into two categories -- formal forma and free verse. For more about each form, click here. |
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"The Conflict," subject of debate today -- but how the writers' people act, or see Is there some pattern to the way they write, We study hard for classes and we hope that says it all, and more, and serves to prove But easier that each iambic foot into a savory stew that I might let Yet still we practice writing, knowing that to what divine committee we submit The others who might say "not good enough" Not for me, not against me, only naught. To chase my demons out through every voice. And having used up every other vowel, -- Verlene Schermer
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The maple leaf turned ripely autumn-toned -- Verlene Schermer
------------------------------------------------------------- What's drawing me from reverie today? -- Verlene Schermer
------------------------------------------------------------- (villanelle) Forever would I choose these words to say: the gap is bridged. With no man's tourniquet, what I don't truly feel or think today? the interneurons pulse and interplay that I could ever understand the gray, I feel about a thing bound to betray -- Verlene Schermer
------------------------------------------------------------- (iambic incremental meter) I know I hear I see -- Verlene Schermer
------------------------------------------------------------- (sestina) I ventured off my too familiar course The ground beneath my tired feet was free I guess I thought if only I could trace Yet it was more like flight. Each foot would land And that professor's face was sad and drawn. And just as flowing rivers finally run So every day I run to find the land -- Verlene Schermer
------------------------------------------------------------- And this is the way the lessons go: with Hannah's harp on the studio floor; and Hannah's wiggly form on the Cosco step stool; and the pleas and the bargains and elaborate excuses; and me (I'm the teacher, or so I thought) crying out "we're almost out of time -- play just one song for me, please!" and Hannah, and Hannah's harp playing war games "left hand, no I want right, no, play me, no play me!" and Hannah, and Hannah's harp acting out scripts written in real time in Hannah's cryptic mind; and the lessons, oh, the lessons I have learned! -- Verlene Schermer
------------------------------------------------------------- Used first in Dante's "The Devine Comedy," the terza rima is a poem of tercets with the rhyme scheme aba, bcb, cdc, etc. It is usually written in iambic pentameter, and can be of any lenght. Verlene's terza rima poem uses each of the 13 American English vowels, beginning with the 5 long vowels a, e, i, o and u, then proceeding through the short vowels, adding the rounded back vowel from the Eastern states (where caught is different from cot), and then the diphthongs oi and ow. The final tercet returns to the first vowel in the poem. The villanelle has 19 lines divided into 5 stanzas. The first four stanzas are tercets (three line stanzas) and the final is a four line stanza. There are only 2 rhymes, and they are alternated througout each of the first four tercets in the form: aba. The final stanza is abaa. The first stanza contains two refrains that are repeated word for word througout the remaining stanzas. The first refrain is the opening line and the second refrain is the third line. Here is how the refrains are repeated through the form: a (first refrain)
a a a a a The English sonnet is the simplest of the sonnet forms, with the rhyme scheme: abab
It is in iambic pentameter, and contains a "volta" or "turn" which is a change in content at some point (in Verlene's English sonnett, it occurs at line 7 when the the revere is broken by identification of the sound. A prose poem is a short paragraph that contains intense imagery. There are no rhymes other than internal rhymes, and no meter. It is not a formal form, but is also not considered free verse. The sestina follows a pattern of repetition of the initial six end-words of the first stanza throughout the remaining five six-line stanzas. The final three lines include is called the envoi. The form is as follows, where each numeral indicates the stanza position and the letters represent end-words: 1. ABCDEF In Verlene's sestina, she used all 6 words in her envoi, with BDF placed internally, one in each line. Iambic pentameter is the meter used in Shakespeare's plays and sonnets. Iambic refers to the metrical foot of unstressed/stressed, so iambic pentameter is 5 of these feet in a line. Blank verse means unrhymed. In Verlene's iambic pentameter blank verse, there is no attempt to rhyme vowels, but she used a nasal consonant as the final consonant or within the final consonant cluster of each line. You can hear this poem as a song on her Rendezvous with the Moon CD, available on this website, or on iTunes. Iambic incremental meter is a form that uses a change in the numer of iambs in a line. In Verlene's poem, she starts with one iamb, and then increases it by one up to five, and then back down to one again for each stanza.
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-- Verlene Schermer
------------------------------------------------------------ I spin my sticky trap To catch the thoughts That fly unsuspecting Like a crafty weaver The pattern evolves -- Verlene Schermer
------------------------------------------------------------ At my sister's house --giggles at the door "Auntie V is here, Auntie V is here!" too much excitement for the four-year-old, even for the seven-year-old mm, bread baking giving the house the scent of home. Dinner -- pizza and salad and Bedtime, Tori changes Kids are down -- sighs as we -- Verlene Schermer
------------------------------------------------------------ It's all just common stuffof everyday -- bits And pieces -- bric-a-brac, paddy-whack -- memories Of childhood games, best friends, dreams, hopes Plans for a future that never quite arrives but keeps Circling high above -- just out of reach -- a tune That returns again and again but never quite ends. -- Verlene Schermer
------------------------------------------------------------ is made of glass. A window to my feelings, or a mirror to yours. Depending on where And on how -- Verlene Schermer
------------------------------------------------------------ All the day's receipts -- Verlene Schermer
------------------------------------------------------------ not the big clunky one like Harpo Marx played -- but the small one, delicately curved, carved from rich maple. I play the harp because it heals me, restores my sanity, invigorates me. I play the harp because it reaches others, soothes, steadies, comforts them. And I play the harp with other harpers. When we gather, we call ourselves "Harpers Hall and Culinary Society" because we love to play, eat, and repeat. I play the harp, and I am at home -- even when I am not at home. -- Verlene Schermer
------------------------------------------------------------ sharpens. Relentless, unchanging -- but for The timbres and tempos and brief voids between tracks. Riding low in the groove, my needlenose In time, where I would forever repeat -- Verlene Schermer
------------------------------------------------------------ The moment I walk into the room with the instruments. My footsteps call out a greeting, the strings shudder in warm Welcome. I step onto the sea of blue wool -- in this space Even I can walk on water! All the forces that would pull and Push me outside are impotent. Time hangs suspended -- waiting for my command. I sit on the cushioned chair and -- Verlene Schermer
------------------------------------------------------------ My muse is playful and She drops clues and hints she whispers a seed and leaves motherly on me. I tell her: I call and I call, but she -- Verlene Schermer
------------------------------------------------------------ All in a while and thenBut the waiting, The when, Where, and how'll it come? Then in high style, sashay Scare and scowl and frown -- Verlene Schermer
------------------------------------------------------------ At first it seemed like nothing.From a distance, a mere Garden wall, marking the boundaries Between yours and mine. But as I approached, it grew. And still I came closer, The spaces between molecules, -- Verlene Schermer
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