Anaphora is "the repetition of the same word or phrase in several successive clauses." Whitman uses anaphora in the poem Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking. Here is an excerpt.
Out of the cradle endlessly rocking,You can learn more about anaphora at Poets.org.
Out of the mocking-bird's throat, the musical shuttle,
Out of the Ninth-month midnight,
Over the sterile sands and the fields beyond, where the child
leaving his bed wander'd alone, bareheaded, barefoot,
Down from the shower'd halo,
Up from the mystic play of shadows twining and twisting as
if they were alive,
Out from the patches of briers and blackberries,
From the memories of the bird that chanted to me,
From your memories sad brother, from the fitful risings and
fallings I heard,
From under that yellow half-moon late-risen and swollen as
if with tears,
From those beginning notes of yearning and love there in
the mist,
From the thousand responses of my heart never to cease,
From the myriad thence-arous'd words,
From the word stronger and more delicious than any,
From such as now they start the scene revisiting,
As a flock, twittering, rising, or overhead passing,
Borne hither, ere all eludes me, hurriedly,
A man, yet by these tears a little boy again,
Throwing myself on the sand, confronting the waves,
I, chanter of pains and joys, uniter of here and hereafter,
Taking all hints to use them, but swiftly leaping beyond them,
A reminiscence sing.
I hope you'll join me this week in writing a poem that uses anaphora. Please share a link to your poem or the poem itself in the comments.
Snow
ReplyDeleteSnow flies like white birds,
lighting on the lawn, covering it
with their light wings, finding
cold seed between blades of grass.
Snow flies like white birds,
settling on the trees, covering
branches with their bright wings,
calling in windy voices.
Snow flies like white birds,
filling the sky with the sight
of their wings till it is nothing but birds,
white birds flying.
—Kate Coombs, 2014
all rights reserved
I've wanted to work with anaphora for a long while, but Whitman and Christopher Smart have loomed a little too large in my imagination.
ReplyDeleteKate: That is a brilliant use of repetition. What a fine sound-shape!
Here's an early draft of something new:
After
After rattle and dust from the haulaway truck
After a sagtail squirrel pines like a migrant farmer
After a sharp hook jags logbark
After pellet snow from the chipping machine
After blowback after limbsnap after timber
After chainsaw after chainsaw after rain
We plant another sugar maple.
© 2014 Steven Withrow, all rights reserved
Thanks, Steven! I like how the word "after" is your anaphora--and how all that machinery is followed by something so natural!
ReplyDeleteTrane
ReplyDeleteJohn Coltrane
1926-1967
Jazz saxophonist
and composer
There once was a wailing wizard
Magician of Tenor Reed
And he dwelled in the Land of the Octaves
And his life was high-low keyed
And he pulled the scarves from evening
And he wrapped them around the night
And he hypnotized six moonbeams
And he dizzied the world with light
And he blew the blessed house down
And he liked to jazz the joint
As he curled into a sound wave
He broke at the breaking point
There once was a wailing wizard
As wild as a hurricane
And I am the wailing wizard
Listen to my roaring Trane
—J. Patrick Lewis, 2014
all rights reserved
J. Patrick--Oh my! This one really sings. I love "And he pulled the scarves from evening…."
ReplyDeleteWell, I'm glad I didn't read the comments before I tried this. Mine is just a quick jot about what happened in the classroom yesterday.
ReplyDeleteIndoor Recess
Too cold again.
Too snowy for outdoor recess.
Too many days spent with the same twenty classmates.
Too limited without electronics.
We already built with blocks.
We already played board games.
We already made up a storytelling game.
We already finished four jigsaw puzzles.
Let's play all together!
Let's play a whole class game!
Let's play Heads Up Seven Up!
Let's play!
***
It's amazing to see them ALL play together.
It's amazing -- first time in my career it's happened.
It's amazing to know that collaboration can emerge so naturally.
It's amazing to have faith and hope reaffirmed during indoor recess.
©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014
NIGHTTIME RITUAL
ReplyDeleteWhen suppers cut, tossed, baked, served,
When homework’s read, written, learned,
When Fido’s walked, scratched, fed,
When I’m scrubbed, rinsed, deodorized –
Then it’s time for bed.
(c) Charles Waters 2014 all rights reserved.