Monday, August 6, 2012
By Ashley Lister
The ode is one of my favourite styles of poetry, partly because it can take whatever form the poet decides. Traditionally the ode is written in praise of something. One of the most famous odes in poetry, Keats’s ‘Ode to Autumn’, begins with the following lines:
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
I could go into a pretentious poet mode here, discuss the fact that this is written in iambic pentameter and mention the a-b-a-b rhyme scheme in these opening four lines.
But, really, there’s no hard and fast rhyme scheme for the ode. And there’s no definite metre. And, rather than discuss immaterial points of poetry, instead I’d prefer to dwell on the obvious reverence Keats is bestowing on his beloved season of autumn.
Note the affectionate language used in this piece. In the first two lines we have:
This is the language of someone who adores autumn. This is the work of someone who has used the concept of the ode to fully lavish praise on what he perceives as the most deserving of seasons.
I’m discussing the ode this month because I think it’s singly the most appropriate form of poetry for erotica. It somehow feels right to lavish ode-worthy praise on an erotic partner or some aspect of eroticism because they’re deserving of such high esteem.
Elevated language is no longer a necessary requirement of this type of poem. All that’s needed is the desire to write with adoration about something that deserves praise. Below is my humble attempt.
Broad and boundless round backside
Cheeky cheeks just made to twerk
Built to bounce and buck and slide
Help me put your ass to work.
As always, I look forward to reading any contributions that appear in the comments box this month.