The language of poetry Assonance – Assonance has been defined as rhyme’, and there used to be rules about where it could be ‘rudimentary used. Most of poetry’s music comes from assonance rather than the more often noted alliteration. Open any good recent anthology, or read anything by Shakespeare, and hear the assonance sing. Listen for the echoes, not just at line-endings but anywhere in a poem. For poetry’s purpose and count as vowel sounds (as they do in Welsh), as well as all the long, short and combined ‘w’ ‘y’ sounds the five vowels make. wild west wind, thou breath of autumn’s being’, sings Shelley, and you hear the wind, ‘O, especially in the first five words. There are words made of nothing but assonant sounds. Add a little punctuation, a sigh and some dramatic expression and you can hold a conversation or write a silly poem using only assonance. Try it with: Where? Why, oh why? Away. Oh, woe! You. I. We? Aye! Aaah! In a poem about the poor a hundred years ago breaking stones to sell to the road builders I repeat one main assonant sound: the long of because is full of sorrow and suffering. I add a long in ‘o’ ‘bones’, ‘O’ ‘a’ ‘aching’ and short sounds in and much more, for these are the games ‘breaking’, ‘picking’, ‘swishing’, ‘tarmac’, ‘track’, that poets play. Breaking Stones Out in the dusk day after day breaking stones, summer and winter, aching bones. Nothing but dirt-tracks, nothing but muddy ruts for a and cart, till they smashed stones to smithereens. Under the country lanes where we dawdle in summer picking blackberries, swishing at nettles with sticks, are broken stones. the tarmac of every road, every motorway, lie the old tracks and the stones they broke, the stones they sold.
The language of poetry – Assonance Assonance has been defined as ‘rudimentary rhyme’, and there used to be rules about where it could be used. Most of poetry’s music comes from assonance rather than the more often noted alliteration. Open any good recent anthology, or read anything by Shakespeare, and hear the assonance sing. Listen for the echoes, not just at line-endings but anywhere in a poem. For poetry’s purpose ‘w’ and ‘y’ count as vowel sounds (as they do in Welsh), as well as all the long, short and combined sounds the five vowels make. ‘O, wild west wind, thou breath of autumn’s being’, sings Shelley, and you hear the wind, especially in the first five words. There are words made of nothing but assonant sounds. Add a little punctuation, a sigh and some dramatic expression and you can hold a conversation or write a silly poem using only assonance. Try it with: Where? Why, oh why? Away. Oh, woe! You. I. We? Aye! Aaah! In a poem about the poor a hundred years ago breaking stones to sell to the road builders I repeat one main assonant sound: the long ‘o’ of ‘bones’, because ‘O’ is full of sorrow and suffering. I add a long ‘a’ in ‘aching’ and ‘breaking’, short sounds in ‘picking’, ‘swishing’, ‘tarmac’, ‘track’, and much more, for these are the games that poets play. Breaking Stones Out in the dusk day after day breaking stones, summer and winter, aching bones. Nothing but dirt-tracks, nothing but muddy ruts for a and cart, till they smashed stones to smithereens. Under the country lanes where we dawdle in summer picking blackberries, swishing at nettles with sticks, are broken stones. the tarmac of every road, every motorway, lie the old tracks and the stones they broke, the stones they sold.
Year-12-IB-poetry-guide.docx