All poetry by Bruce Dale Wise. Originally published by the SCP 9/26/18
Consumer Rights
by Cal Wes Ubideer
Accountability, transparency, and search control,
consumer advocates are fighting Big-Tech’s data hold.
For far too long consumers have been powerless to fight
the Goolag Commie-Tsars and Facebook Social-Fascist might.
We have the right to know what data businesses possess
on each and every one of us; and this they must confess.
We have the right to say no to our information’s use,
and to delete what we desire; and not take such abuse.
We have the right to sue the companies that have disturbed
protected data when it’s breached. Such thefts need to be curbed.
We have the right to never be discriminated for
our personal particulars, details, facts, and more.
Cal Wes Ubideer is a poet of California, home of Silicon Valley, Big-Tech’s home.
Notre Dame de Paris
by Brulise de Wace
I still remember seeing it along the blue-lit Seine,
the arching bridge, the gray walkway, the winter oxygen.
I did not know who I was then, the white clouds floating by,
the Gothic Notre Dame Cathedral rising in the sky.
Who put that there?—the styles edging toward the Renaissance,
the flying buttresses supporting its gray elegance,
that fall like waterfalls in stone around its heavy back,
to keep its heaving walls upright, not crumbling at a crack.
I can’t forget its grand facade, nor its inspiring spire,
that points the way to God and His uplifting, holy lyre.
Tolerating Points of View
by Bic Uwel, “Erased”
All people, hence, all poets, differ in their points of view,
and even in one life-time attitudes can alter, do.
It’s not that what is true has changed, but only what one sees,
which never is complete, but ‘s plagued by partialities.
As human vision ‘s limited, it is incumbent on
each individual to tolerate what they see wrong.
It is, therefore, important to agree to disagree
for knowledge to accrue, for wisdom to gain realty.
But this is not an easy task, since this outlook is skewed,
as must be every view we have whenever it is viewed.
Bic Uwel, “Erased” is a poet of the common man and woman.
Great collection!
Is “Brulise” the result of having gotten in touch with your feminine side?
Nah. But point well taken. The French charichords are difficult, though mainly for the “w”. Henceforth, my Medieval French charichord shall be Berlius. Thanks for the point.
Still haven’t figured out how you do your pseudonyms.
Is there a method to your madness?
The method to the madness is simple; choose a word or name, and make what one can of everything else. Poe is my go-to Poe-t on this, and the Modernist Portuguese poet, Pessoa.
Mr. Mantyk early created Brice U. Lawseed, and now Mr. Tessitore has filled out the first name of Berlius de Wace.
Can we possibly get away from insubordinate subordinate clauses? And can we finally do away with broken meter? Egad, man! You surely have the time to make your verse ring true. Maybe it’s my problem, for adhering to precision & exactitude; and if that be so, then I will die on that hill. I only hope that all this back-and-forth is not for nothing.
Though this seem madness, yet there ‘s method in ‘t.
1. I don’t want my verse to ring true; I want it to be true.
2. I like precision and exactitude. If Mr. Anderson were more precise and exact in his assessments, like Mr. Stone is, maybe his back-and-forth would not be for nothing. Otherwise, it must be so. The problems he senses could possibly be because Mr. Anderson looks at grammar diff’rently than I do, Mr. Anderson looks at meter diff’rently than I do, or because of Mr. Mantyk’s editing. I do admit to idiosyncrasies, but my choices are usu’lly for particular reasons, even in my rougher verses, like the California-politics “Consumer Rights” and the rather nebulous, albeit terse, response to Modernist E. M. Forster’s “Tolerance”, an important idea @ SCP.
OK then. I will tolerate it even if I disapprove. But, for myself, I would hate to be merely tolerated.
Mr. Anderson does not look at grammar diff’rently; he just looks to grammar as a normative standard for normative communication. And he looks at meter as meter — measurement or mismeasurement, according to the writer’s whim, is not what this is all about, unless I completely mismeasure the under-girding and overriding purpose of this whole experiment.
Astute critical evaluations of individual poems, though extremely rare here, are rarer elsewhere. It is one of the lesser plagues of this New Millennial period, but an indication of deeper flaws in our era, which some us writers, Quixote-like, have been battling as best as we can. Yet who other than Poe could have done an analysis of “The Raven”? Certainly not poets, like Longfellow, or critics, like J. R. Lowell. So.
Mr. Anderson looks at grammar as a normative standard for normative communication, which I do as well, to a certain degree, but with important historical and linguistic qualifications, ever mindful of ancient Greek and Latin practice.
Take the middle poem, for example, in which I will focus on grammar; since that is one of Mr. Anderson’s strange indictments against my poetry (in a similar manner, as his comments on a recent poem by Mr. Krusch).
Notre Dame de Paris
by Berlius de Wace
I still remember seeing it along the blue-lit Seine,
the arching bridge, the gray walkway, the winter oxygen.
I did not know who I was then, the white clouds floating by,
the Gothic Notre Dame Cathedral rising in the sky.
Who put that there?—the styles edging toward the Renaissance,
the flying buttresses supporting its gray elegance,
that fall like waterfalls in stone around its heavy back,
to keep its heaving walls upright, not crumbling at a crack.
I can’t forget its grand facade, nor its inspiring spire,
that points the way to God and His uplifting, holy lyre.
Well, what do I notice grammatically about this tennos?
1. First, the grammar is fine. It is not flawed in any normative way—unlike so many works even upon this site.
2. It relies most heavily on nouns (& pronouns) and adjectives (& articles, pronomials), as is befitting a piece upon the structure of the famed Gothic cathedral.
3. There is no gushing here, hence no interjections; nor do I ramble on with conjunctions, as many writers do; there are only two, located in the final couplet.
4. Following after, in numbers, come the verbs (& helpers) and adverbs, fairly typical in sentence constructions, along with some scattered prepositions.
5. There are four sentences, three two-line sentences—all beginning with the pronoun I, rhetorically constructed, and one four-line sentence, the core of my comment on the cathedral.
6. The long sentence begins with a terse question—a line that Cary Grant delivers to Audrey Hepburn in Charade, when he notices Notre Dame—and continues to the only substantive clause of purpose in the poem at its end.
7. Though Mr. Anderson finds clauses “insubordinate”, for me this is the one place where the thought becomes more interesting, because the grammar is more complex. Like Vergil’s language, my language is not only guided by audial imagination; but it also strives toward compression, a covert emotional and intellectual density, and philosophical intricacy of thought.
8. What I find fascinating about the grammar of this tennos, which I didn’t realize when I wrote it, is that there is a gerund in every line but L6. I like that, as it suggests movement and stasis, particularly in the adjectival structure of this work, appropriate for this poem’s architectonics.
9. Mr. Anderson also faulted me for my meter, which is iambic heptametre, and it’s fine. Perhaps he recoils at the spondee in L2, but I like its quality, which follows after that in L1; as a poet fond of the Anglo-Saxons, I enjoy kenning-like constructions, like walkway and blue-lit.
10. However, here is where I disagree profoundly with Mr. Anderson. Since the achievement of the Modernists, I am not willing to ban any word or idea from my poetry. Here I disagree with even the great classical poet Vergil, who could not, in his poetry, say trees, ārbŏrēs, in the nominative, vocative, or accusative plural, since it would not fit into the hexametre, nor could he use Hērcŭlēs, unless he used it in the genitive or ablative singular, or in the accusative or dative with varyingly unpleasant elision. Here is where I disagree with nearly all my contemporaries, as well as the great literary tradition of the World: if I need to speak or sing about anything, meter be damned—I will.
Well defended, Berlius. I shall henceforth endeavor to stay away from generalities and be as specific as possible. But why was such a lengthy explanation necessary? Because it was difficult to decode your idiosyncratic,
very private methods. Thanks for troubling to explain.
No need to worry, Berlius – Schumann himself was disparaged for breaking standard compositional forms, and structures that appeared to be incomprehensible in his works were rather intensely well-wrought (since we’re such Anglo-Saxons, of course) series. I am sure you are familiar with the Abegg Variationen and Carnaval’s “AEsCH” given your love of cryptograms, so I needn’t explain to you what you already know. Unfortunately some people take great sport in trying to measure the infinite with a meter stick.
1. Though Mr. Anderson complains about the “lengthy” response, it was merely an introduction to the grammar of a single poem, in this case, “Notre Dame de Paris” by the newly-christened Berlius de Wace. Grammar is important…and it can be as simple as the absence of an of.
2. The main point is there is a lot more decoding in grammar and in poetry than most are aware of…a whole lot more.
3. Each writer must, by definition, be idiosyncratic—otherwise we would all sound and see the same.
It wasn’t a complaint; it was an accolade. And I agree with your estimation of idiosyncrasy as a necessary element of diversity in the poetic voice.
Despite Mr. Krusch’s admonition, it is great sport to try to measure off the infinite with a meter stick.
Peter Pomegranate at the Clavier
by Ewald E. Eisbruc
He sat at the piano playing Schumann’s Opus 1,
the Abegg Variations, an eight minute loping run.
His fingers moved as quickly as some furtive animals
that ran away the moment that some hunter shot his gun.
He sat erect and played correctly at his task, his post,
producing scintillating, scattered, patterned strings of notes.
There was no pausing as he went through all Herr Schumann’s themes,
with energy, enunciating streams of loving dreams.
He paced himself, embracing, racing, where appropriate,
and then he quit, got up and left piano, piece, and pit.
Just some number crunching:
interjections: 0
relative pronouns: 5
pronouns: 5
pronomials: 6
nouns: 19
verbs: 6
helping verbs: 3
adjectives: 19
adverbs: 9
conjunctions: 2
prepositions: 7
articles (the): 11
articles (a/an): 1
How strange it is to read one’s words of two long years ago.
1 Notre Dame has burned.
2 I am sad not to hear more of William Krusch’s remarkable views.
3 “Peter Pomegranate” is my answer to Wallace Stevens’ “Peter Quince”.
4 I haven’t heard much from Berlius de Wace. Here Ezra Pound was more fruitful.
5 I’m not sure, but I suspect these poems were included, mainly for the first tennos.
My support for those consumer rights has not abated, especially in light of ongoing censorship.
The Press Suppressing Information
by Brice U. Lawseed
Amazingly suppressing information has become
the modus operandi of the Main Stream Media.
When I was young, I heard the stories of the Soviets,
whose propaganda outlets served to lie and to suppress;
and now I find the same is true in these United States,
a Fascist Facebook Goolag Google, Tsarist Twitter base.
G-Mafia has bought the press so that they can control
the data and the information they allow to flow.
From friendly do no evil, lots of talk and chattering,
the high-tech oligarchs are bent on baleful battering.
An Architectural and Grammatical Analysis of “Notre Dame de Paris”
April 28, 2025 by edward
This article delves into a detailed analysis of the poem “Notre Dame de Paris,” exploring its grammatical structure, poetic devices, and the author’s response to criticism regarding its form and content. The poem itself serves as a reflection on the grandeur of the cathedral, intertwining personal experience with architectural observation.
Contents
• A Personal Encounter with Grandeur
• Grammar as a Tool, Not a Constraint
• Beyond Traditional Meter
• The Power of Compression and Density
• Movement and Stasis: The Gerund’s Role
• A Poet’s Manifesto
• Conclusion
•
A Personal Encounter with Grandeur
The poem opens with a personal anecdote, establishing a connection between the speaker and the iconic cathedral. The lines “I still remember seeing it along the blue-lit Seine, the arching bridge, the gray walkway, the winter oxygen” evoke a vivid sensory experience, grounding the reader in the speaker’s memory. This personal touch immediately humanizes the imposing structure, making it accessible through shared human experience.
Grammar as a Tool, Not a Constraint
The author addresses criticisms regarding the poem’s grammar, arguing for a nuanced understanding of grammatical rules in poetry. The defense centers on the idea that grammar serves the poem’s purpose, rather than dictating it. The prevalence of nouns and adjectives, for example, is justified by the poem’s focus on the physical structure of Notre Dame. This conscious choice emphasizes the visual aspects of the cathedral, allowing the reader to experience its architectural details through language.
Beyond Traditional Meter
The author challenges conventional notions of meter, defending the use of iambic heptameter and specific word choices. The line “Perhaps he recoils at the spondee in L2, but I like its quality” demonstrates the author’s deliberate use of metrical variations to achieve a desired effect. This willingness to deviate from strict metrical patterns aligns with the author’s broader argument for poetic freedom, prioritizing expression over adherence to rigid rules.
The Power of Compression and Density
The author’s poetic philosophy emphasizes “compression, a covert emotional and intellectual density, and philosophical intricacy of thought.” This approach is evident in the poem’s concise phrasing and layered imagery. The question “Who put that there?” serves as both a literal and metaphorical inquiry, prompting reflection on the human impulse to create and the divine inspiration behind such grand structures.
Movement and Stasis: The Gerund’s Role
The author notes the frequent use of gerunds, suggesting they contribute to a sense of both movement and stasis within the poem. This duality mirrors the experience of encountering Notre Dame, where the solidity of the stone contrasts with the dynamic flow of time and human experience. The gerunds, often used to describe the architectural features, subtly imbue the cathedral with a sense of life and ongoing presence.
A Poet’s Manifesto
The concluding lines of the analysis serve as a kind of poet’s manifesto, declaring the author’s commitment to expressing any thought or idea, regardless of metrical constraints. This bold statement underscores the author’s belief in the primacy of poetic expression, rejecting limitations imposed by traditional forms.
Conclusion
This analysis of “Notre Dame de Paris” reveals a poem that is both a personal reflection and a carefully constructed exploration of language and form. The author’s defense of their stylistic choices offers valuable insights into the ongoing dialogue between tradition and innovation in poetry. The poem itself, with its vivid imagery and thoughtful reflections, invites readers to contemplate not only the grandeur of Notre Dame but also the power of poetry to capture and convey such experiences.