Spontaneous Conjugal Combustion
—a villanelle
He simply couldn’t turn the other cheek
On ceaseless babble drowning out the game.
He caved to scorching fits of crimson pique.
He smoldered, snapped, then hollered like a freak—
Sparks flared and flew; his words were far from tame.
She simply couldn’t turn the other cheek.
His ears were singed by every scathing shriek—
He’d lit her fuse; she billowed into flame.
She caved to scorching fits of crimson pique.
How could this feral fox (once sweet and meek)
Unleash such lava-barbs of lethal aim?
She simply couldn’t turn the other cheek.
She seared his heart when vowing she would seek
Revenge if he refused to shoulder blame.
He caved to scorching fits of crimson pique.
Their melting marriage simmered for a week,
Till passion burned to ash—a flameless shame.
They simply couldn’t turn the other cheek.
They caved to scorching fits of crimson pique.
Mary
—a triolet
This lassie has a little lamb,
A sweet and tender bleat-less treat
With hint of ewe and tang of ram.
This lassie has a little lamb—
She feels the angst of Abraham
While sprinkling mint sauce on her meat.
This lassie had a little lamb,
A sweet and tender bleat-less treat.
Pearl’s Poodle
—a pantoum
Pearl’s pad is plush and spacious.
Pip’s hovel is paludal.
Pearl prizes the palacious.
Pip pines to be Pearl’s poodle.
Pip’s hovel is paludal.
Pearl’s palate is exquisite.
Pip prays to be Pearl’s poodle.
Pearl revels in Pip’s visit.
Pearl’s palate is exquisite.
Pearl eats papaya strudel.
Pearl revels in Pip’s visit.
Pip pleads to be Pearl’s poodle.
Pearl eats papaya strudel.
Pip plots to gorge and grovel.
Pearl pats her cooing poodle.
Pip leaves his swampy hovel.
Pip loves to gorge and grovel.
Pip prizes the palacious.
Pip left his swampy hovel.
Pip’s pad is plush and spacious.
Palacious (adjective): Royal, noble, magnificent —Samuel Johnson
Paludal (adjective): Of marshes, of swamps, of fens —OED
Susan Jarvis Bryant is a poet originally from the U.K., now living on the Gulf Coast of Texas.
Susan,
I enjoyed all three of these poems, and they are all sterling examples of the poetic forms they represent. It amazes me to see the number of words associated with fire that you have incorporated into the first poem. The image of a marriage self-igniting from combustive forces within, flaring out of control and leaving a pile of ash in its wake, is quite original! I don´t think I have seen it anywhere else. There is, moreover, a very subtle moral lesson in this picture of a self-immolating marriage, conveyed by the words, “They simply couldn´t turn the other cheek.” This points to the fact that marriages can only survive where there is a mutual commitment to practice forgiveness and to refuse to bear grudges and harbor resentment; otherwise, unresolved bitterness will ignite the highly flammable forces that burn a marriage to the ground. The third poem about Pearl´s Poodle is not only a delight to the ear with its alliterative richness but also shows with sardonic humor the way that ambitious, envious and parasitic individuals can “feed” on a host and gradually take over a host´s life by a process of “gorging and grovelling”– feigning humility and gorging themselves on their host´s substance until they come to occupy the same position as the host. This is shown by the exact parallelism of the opening and closing lines regarding Pearl and Pip. Great satire and striking imagery!
Martin, thank you very much for your close reading and your appreciative comment. I am thrilled you enjoyed these poems. I had huge fun writing Spontaneous Conjugal Combustion, which (although humorous) was prompted by the trivial blow ups we fickle human beings fuel to our detriment. In these days of the “micro-aggression” I wonder how many beautiful unions have combusted due to this constant desire to call out every misplaced word or look deemed offensive? There’s a lot to be said for turning the other cheek.
At this stage I would like to address the interesting point you brought up with Joe. I agree with you when you say that “Just because a poem is comic, not didactic in tone, does not mean it is bereft of a moral message.” I am in full agreement and hope those hot-headed, quick-to-bicker married couples out there may see themselves in my words and decide to cool down a few notches with a kiss-not-carp attitude. You’re right to notice the sad consequences of not turning the other cheek and I’m glad you have. I try to draw on layers of meaning with my poems because I like poems that appeal on many levels… but I always like to leave the discovery of the fluttering wings of a phoenix beneath the ashes down to the reader in a show-don’t-tell way. I don’t know for sure, but I think Joe is saying this when he says “These are all COMIC poems, with no moral message” – the comedy is intentional, the moral is there in a take-it-or-leave-it manner for personal discovery, it isn’t driven home with a metaphorical mallet.
I am glad to read these two different reactions to my piece… it lets me know my quirky poems stoke cerebral embers… as long as brains don’t combust, I’m a very happy poet.
Martin, thank you for allowing me the opportunity to natter on about my poems… I’ve thoroughly enjoyed myself.
These poems are fabulous, Susan, and Martin’s comments above really nailed them. Spontaneous Conjugal Combustion is so sad — what a waste of what presumably once was, but this is what happens often, judging by the divorce statistics. Your talent, Susan, in shining a bright light on aspects of life, is incomparable.
Russel, “shining a bright light on aspects of life” is such a beautiful way of looking at my poetry. I know life is tough with many heartbreaking challenges on route… I’d much rather navigate life’s pathway when it’s flooded in sunshine. Russel, thank you for your kindness, your encouragement, and your bright, bite-sized morsels of wisdom.
“Spontaneous Conjugal Combustion” certainly depicts an unhappy marriage in which each of them employs verbal flame-throwers to burn it to the ground. Cheeky indeed. So “Mary” finally had a little lamb! With mint sauce no less! I could feel the tentative angst going back in the Bible to Abrahm who did not want to dispose of one of his lambs. Such a happy ending for Pearl and Pip as Pip became “Pearl’s Poodle.” I must admit I have never had, nor even thought of papaya strudel. These were a delight to read this morning. I would add more, but Martin’s comments certainly sufficed for me. You do know how much I admire your poetry including the intensive alliteration.
Roy, thank you very much for your kind and appreciative comment. I am thrilled you enjoyed the poems. I will admit to never having come across or eaten a slice of papaya strudel myself. I will guiltily admit to choosing papayas over truth for wicked, alliterative purposes. Roy, I hope your tomorrows are blessed with ambrosial papayas in light, buttery pastry with a dollop of luscious Cornish ice cream to enhance those magic moments.
In this snapshot of marital strife we get a very amusing yet accurate account of what happens to husband and wife when both of them are distinguished by the failure to turn the other cheek (that is, to let pass in silence some offense) and the equally regrettable propensity to give in “to scorching fits of crimson pique” (and there’s a vivid phrase if there ever was one!) Your language here bubbles and pops, appropriately, like boiling water. It’s funny, of course, though both combatants are at fault and could have forestalled trouble by a little self-restraint–a great virtue not sufficiently appreciated. The illustration adds both to the humor and to the moral of the scene. A great, raucous ride you give us here. Thanks very much!
Bhikkhu, thank you very much indeed for your kind comment which is full of poetic imagery. I just love the line: “Your language here bubbles and pops, appropriately, like boiling water.” – the musicality of the onomatopoeia is dear to my heart, and I especially like that “raucous ride” – your words of appreciation inspire me!
I loved all three poems Susan and I especially enjoyed the tongue-twisting Pearl’s Poodle. Such a lot of fun to read and also to hear the strong and useful message in Spontaneous Conjugal Combustion. You have an amazing way with words, getting your point across with humor.
Norma, I always admire your facility for getting humor across by using all the tools in the linguistic tool kit, so your words are dear to me. I had a lot of fun writing Pearl’s Poodle. The poem is a nod to my son who, at the tender age of fifteen months, roared with laughter at the word “poodle” prompting me to make up oodles of poodle poems to appeal to his ever-curious noodle. Norma, thank you very much indeed!
Susan, I admire all three of these pieces. But I single out Spontaneous Conjugal Combustion for its skillful use of vocabulary: each stanza is packed – apart from the recurring refrains of the villanelle – with fiery language, and the cumulative effect is extremely powerful. Great stuff.
Martin, I am over the moon you enjoyed my explosive villanelle. I love these french forms for their musicality and their repetition… and sometimes things need saying more than once, but only when tempers are cool. Thank very much for your kind and encouraging words.
Susan, I have had so much fun watching you write these gems. I haven’t told you this before, but what strikes me is the way you shine the light out there and then trust the reader to take from your work whatever they will. However anyone takes it… it is always enlightening!
Thank you, biggest fan!
Susan, these three were a delight for me to read right after getting up and having breakfast. Wonderful and creative work of the highest order! Susan, you have something that many poets today lack totally — the capacity for INVENTION. This is what the older rhetoricians called the ability to find, dream up, or mimetically produce poetic fictions that mirror real life, but in ways that are new or unique or surprising.
Who would have thought of using the turn-the-other-cheek cliche as a screenplay device for describing a series of knock-down-drag-out marital battles? Who would have thought of taking a nursery rhyme and a biblical reference and combining them to form a portrait of a totally in-charge wife? Who would have thought of a romance and a wooing as an interaction between two dogs, the male a hungry mutt, and the bitch a pampered and well-fed lapdog?
In addition, you have given your readers three perfect examples of three important forms used in traditional poetry. This is more than just a lesson — it’s a demonstration of sheer mastery.
And thank God that a few poets have the nerve to go to the dictionary or thesaurus and dig up some unusual words. Dr. Johnson didn’t do all that work in vain, nor did the editors of the OED! Every word in the English language is there to be used, no matter what the Plain Language Police try to dictate.
Know what else is great? These are all COMIC poems, with no moral message.
Just because a poem is comic, not didactic in tone, does not mean it is bereft of a moral message. It seems to me that the poem draws a clear connection between the mutually unforgiving attitude of the husband and wife (He/she/they “simply could not turn the other cheek”) and the conflagration which follows. Married couples do well to note the connection. Wry observations in a poem about life’s intrinsically moral mode of operation do not have to detract from the poem’s humorous and entertaining character.
The comic potential of husband-wife conflict has been a standard source of broad humor in Western literature for centuries. From the plays of Plautus and Terence, to Petruchio and Katerina in Shakespeare’s “The Taming of the Shrew”, to O. Henry’s short stories, to Alice and Ralph Kramden on television, we get marital discord presented as a subject of laughter, and not of moral edification.
Trying to find a sermon in every poem is judging works of art on non-aesthetic criteria. It may be done with some works, but not with Susan’s poem, the very title of which is meant to evoke laughter.
I don´t think I´m “trying to find a sermon” in a poem; I simply recognize an exposé of moral insanity when I see it in a poem, the same way that I recognize an exposé of political insanity when I see it satirized in a poem– and don´t tell me that there aren´t a number of poets on this website the violate the canons of “art for art´s sake” by exposing political insanity in their poetry. I´m just saying I don´t believe one has to try to avoid like the plague and expunge all moral wisdom from a poem for it to be “art.” That´s an extreme that I don´t buy into.
Mr. Rizley, there is no reason for us to get into a fight again on this subject. I have admitted that messages or morals or sermons are possible to find in some poems. This of course has always been true in satire and lampoon, as you point out — where evils are mocked and laughed at, in a witty and sarcastic manner.
What I object to is seeking out a religious/ethical/moral point in ALL poems, especially in comic poems that are meant for entertainment and amusement. When someone does that, I recall what Lady Macbeth said to her husband: “Thou hast displaced the mirth.”
Joe, thank you very much for this appreciative and encouraging comment which picks up on all the things I love to indulge in when I write. For me, invention is key. I love to create a scene – but only on the page. “Fictions that mirror real life” are a treat to write and to read. I think it’s a poet’s duty to be “unique or surprising” – it keeps the poetry world alive and kicking. I’m glad you’ve picked up on my love of unusual words. In a world where the sheer magnificence and musicality of language is fading fast, I enjoy sharing new and intriguing finds, and I’m always on the hunt.
I’ve enjoyed your conversation with Martin. How poems are received and the thoughts they bring about intrigue me. As for the moral message of the first poem, I didn’t intend to write a moral tale. I had an idea of the scene I wanted to portray and the poem pulled me along with it… it was one of those poems that surprised me with the underlying sadness of the closing stanza and how easily the flare up could have been prevented. The fact that this poem makes readers smile, laugh, sympathize, lament, and think pleases me. It shows I’ve left room for each reader to gain something from my poem, and that’s a good thing.
The villanelle made me ponder whether inflammatory friction is really worse than stone-cold silence. Marriage often needs some spice, even if it turns out to be blistering cayenne pepper.
The triolet made me want to join Dr. Salemi for a meal of juicy lamb kabobs.
The pantoum reminded me of why I do not care to own a dog, or be owned by one.
C.B., it’s always interesting to read your take on my poems, and I’ve got to say I agree with you on the “worse than stone-cold silence” front. I consider stone-cold silence to be in the indifference category, and that’s when you know a relationship is dead. Passion (even the fiery kind) means there’s something worth getting passionate about… As long as your spouse hasn’t just convinced you to increase your life insurance in the recent weeks, that’s a good thing.
In England, lamb is often eaten at Easter. Those sweet, fleecy symbols of renewal frolicking on the front of Easter cards have always made me feel a little guilty when sprinkling mint sauce on my celebratory meal… just a little.
I’ve been enslaved by cats, beguiled by dogs, and left bereft by both… no more!
C.B., thank you!
Applying these relational perceptions to my own circumstances, Susan, I feel extraordinarily fortunate to have ‘bagged’ the babe I’ve been sharing my life with for 53 beautiful years. A+A+A+ – & thanks for the reminders… 🙂
Awww, what a beautiful comment, Mark. It’s lovely to hear of the joys of marital bliss after 53 years. Congratulations! May you celebrate many more beautiful years together. I’ve come to believe marriage is so much more than vows and a certificate – it is love’s poetry indelibly etched upon one’s heart for all eternity. Mark, thank you for taking the time to grade my work – I couldn’t have wished for better!
These are extremely accomplished and exciting poems, Susan – sardonic, cynical fun which is anything but twee, cloying or gentle. These are poems written by someone who has seen a thing or two for people who have been around the block; poems which offer some inspired observations along with linguistic fireworks.
“Mary” is hilarious and yet discomfiting. You take the nursery rhyme and run it through a slightly ghoulish Addams Family perspective (albeit with a pang of Abrahamic conscience). Your brief but decisive injection of theology into this poem makes what could have been a brief “throwaway” poem something much deeper, which displays some of the tender/ruthless contradictions of human nature. One remembers WHY we keep herds of sheep and the answer is not pretty. As a related aside, I have never understood the idea of eating lamb on Easter as it seemed rather blood-thirsty rather than spiritually uplifting of “shepherdy.”
“Spontaneous Conjugal Combustion” is a highly accomplished villanelle which makes Sylvia Plath look like Mother Goose in comparison. You really tap into the impassioned conflict which plagues this particular couple – at least for this week – and you do so with verbal pyrotechnics of the first order. I feel so sorry for this highly familiar couple and yet one senses that this meltdown is not the first nor the last. I am much reminded of Edward Albee’s “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf” and the rages and bitter language Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton fling at each other. A brilliant poem whose fireworks are simultaneously deeply satisfying and deeply unsettling.
Finally, in this trilogy of cynical wit, we have the story of “Pearl’s Poodle.” This is SUCH a fascinating poem because it can be read on so many different levels. It appears at the intersection of “The Lady and the Tramp” and “Sunset Boulevard.” My first reading of this astonishing piece was a simplistic one – how cute. The strange courtship of two dogs, one privileged and the other from the wrong side of the tracks. When I read it a second time, it occurred to me that Pearl might not be a dog at all. And when I read it a third time, I realized that Pip is not a dog either. There are people who are willing to abase themselves – to become lapdogs – for the sake of money or fame or power. After that third reading, I could only see Pip as a hanger-on looking for a “sugar-mama.” That led me to “Sunset Boulevard” and that dangerous relationship between an older rich woman and the struggling young man who uses her, even as she uses him in return. The sing-song rhythm of the piece and all of those “P” sounds give it a beautifully bitter sense of nursery-rhyme and morality tale. I especially like the sly choice of “Pip” which invariably recalls the social-climbing Pip of Great Expectations and his relationship with Miss Haversham.
Susan, your love of language is front and center in each of these pieces, though especially in the first and third. I recently came across the terms “verbivore” and “logophile” which refer to people who not only love words but absolutely devour them. That would be you. You write work which is exciting, fresh, new and which – despite the sometimes bitter or cynical observations – offer a reader great fun. With an imagination like yours, you are one tough act to follow.
I never got the idea, Brian, that the characters are both dogs. To me it looked more like Elizabeth II and her Welsh Corgis. And of course you are right about Susan’s crafty art. The question Aquinas should have answered is: How many words can dance on one of her fingertips?
C.B. I just love the Queen Elizabeth II and Welsh Corgis scene… I would have claimed that one had I not just spilled the beans to Brian. I am now sitting here with an abacus, gazing at my fingertips with intrigue… words fail me, but I think I saw an angel… or three.
Brian, thank you so much for this extremely generous and perceptive reading. I thoroughly appreciate your take on my quirky works. You’re right when you say I’ve seen a thing or two, and I just love translating my finds into poetry that brings a smile and a knowing nod to fellow guests at this Madhatter’s tea party we call life.
I’m especially pleased you picked up on the tonal tension in “Mary.” That uneasy overlap between innocence and appetite with nursery rhyme jollity tapping into Easter oddities. For me, partaking in a celebratory meal of Easter lamb has always carried a disquieting irony.
Your reading of “Spontaneous Conjugal Combustion” is entertaining and befitting. I just love your Sylvia Plath / Mother Goose analogy, and I love the comparison to Albee. There’s something theatrical in those domestic infernos, as if the language itself becomes both weapon and fuel. I certainly had fun pouring fuel on the fire.
I’m especially grateful for your deep reading of “Pearl’s Poodle.” I hoped it might invite multiple takes and you picked up on the trail of ambiguity. That shift from charming veneer to something more transactional, or even predatory, was my aim. Your connection to Sunset Boulevard and Great Expectations is spot on. Pip’s name was very deliberately chosen to carry that cloying waft of social aspiration, and of course for the alliterative letter P.
And “verbivore”— what a glorious word. I am a verbivore and proud of it! I just love language. It’s my playground and my laboratory, and I’m over the moon you’ve enjoyed the results of these rebellious experiments with French forms.
Thank you again for such a rich and rewarding response. I’m in cheshire-cat mode.
Wow, what a villanelle – I do hope Mike is alright?
I am recovering quite nicely… thanks for caring, James.
James, I’m hoping you enjoyed the villanelle and it hasn’t worried you too much. Mike often suffers for my art and I’m eternally grateful. 😉
You make poetry so much fun, thank you Susan! I thought that Pearl’s Poodle describes people, not dogs. But since it’s couched in dog terms it could as well describe dogs, which is fun for dog lovers. Happy Mother’s Day to you.
Yael, it’s always lovely to hear from you. I’m thrilled you enjoyed the poems. I did have people in mind when I wrote Pearl’s Poodle. “Poodle” has an extra meaning in British English which makes the interpretation very reader-centric. I discovered that after I wrote the poem, though.
Thank you for your kind words on my poetry and thank you too for your Mother’s Day wishes. I am lucky enough to celebrate two Mother’s Days. The British one is in March. My family spoils me on both days.
When I was in the U.K. I heard that “poodle” could mean a henpecked or subservient husband, and by extension any kind of sycophant or toady. That’s why I read the third poem as being about a male dog who willingly made himself the slave of a female dog — sort of like a gold-digging young gigolo who attaches himself to a wealthy lady.
Joe, I love your interpretation – as far as I’m concerned” a gold-digging young gigolo who attaches himself to a wealthy lady” is a dog.
I have thoroughly enjoyed responding to the comments on these poems simply because each of the poems has stirred different thoughts in different readers and it’s been interesting to hear them. This is one of the reasons I like poems that give readers room to think independently… although, I will admit that I didn’t realize “Pearl’s Poodle” wasn’t as clear as I initially intended until Mike read it without any idea of the British English interpretation of the word “poodle” – I thought our different takes on the piece added to the poem’s intrigue. Another interesting fact: Tony Blair was known to Brits as “Bush’s Poodle” during the Iraq war… although, having seen history reveal the two faces of Tony bLIAR, perhaps Bush was his poodle. The poodle-pondering noodle boggles.
Joe, thank you very much indeed!