Nathaniel Hamovitz
Poetry F19
An exploration of emotion
Featuring original poetry, psychology, and interviews.
This website is conceived as one part art piece and one part teaching aid. As art, it's an exploration of emotions, and particularly their causes; the art is then intended as an example of the possibilities for emotion within poetry. I imagine it might be particularly useful for beginning poets or those who are struggling to imbue their work with emotions beyond the tired trio of happy-sad-angry.
What is it?: The definition of the word from Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary.
What does _______ mean?: Selected responses to word-association interviews. Respondents were prompted by the emotion and asked the first word, phrase, or idea that came to mind. Respondents spanned a range in age, profession, and other demographic markers.
Following those is a draft of an original poem constructed around each emotion. The poems are ideally meant to invoke that emotion in the reader, either as a response to the content or in empathy with the speaker of the poem. Failing that, hopefully they provide some insight into each emotion, especially regarding the process of experiencing it. Each poem is followed by a short analysis of its most notable features, the goal of which is to point out the choices which tie the poem to its emotion and suggest strategies for invoking that emotion in the reader's own work.
Mouse over an emotion to explore more.
"the state of being homesick : homesickness; a wistful or excessively sentimental yearning for return to or of some past period or irrecoverable condition"
Sepia tones: Old photographs foster memories of found time, Fated photos fading fast. New photographs are old too soon, Nothing’s ever meant to last. Gloss gone, but the memory of a sheen shines brighter than the memory of a kiss, a hug, a laugh, a cry. Reminisces like gravel— sand— dust—; dendrites as fingers, similarly ineffectual at preventing outflow. What have you lost in the past?
This is probably the most effective poem at evoking its emotion. Opening with "Sepia tones:" immediately sets the reader in mind of old things (because sepia is mostly found in old photographs and documents), laying a promising groundwork for creating nostalgia. The second stanza introduces us to fading photographs. A tool meant to preserve memory is failing; not only are the events past, but there's now no failsafe to guard against failing memory. The "[o]ld photographs" are fading, and "[n]ew photographs" seem to fade just as much.
In the third stanza, the regular form — four lines, rhyming — breaks down, mirroring the deterioration of memory and the physical objects which were safeguarding it. "Gloss" refers to the now-absent gloss of the previous stanza's fading photographs; someone looking through these old photos might remember the way the paper used to gleam, and yet they can't remember the details of the photos' content. The snake of "a kiss, / a hug, / a laugh, / a cry" is a representation of the outflow of memories referenced in the next line; I was picturing a literal waterfall of thoughts, spilling from someone's head. The procession of em dashes represents desperate attempts to stem the flow of memories, each one unsuccessful.
Finally, the last stanza — a single question — directly confronts readers with the concept of nostalgia, asking them directly to consider what they have to be nostalgic about.
"a strong pulling or drawing away : withdrawal;; a sudden or strong reaction or change; a sense of utter distaste or repugnance"
yuck yuck yuck yuck yuck Get it away from me! Gosh, that’s gross. Oozing yellow pustules, Drips of slime and goo. A gift from me to you. Foul creatures birthed in darkness, Silent warrens and deep damp caves. Creatures lost in myth and legend Because its poison to say their name. yelch!
A lot of the work here is done with just the sounds of the words — "oozing," "pustules," "drips," "maggots," even "yuck." They all have long vowels, 's' sounds, and consonants produced in parts of the mouth which make lots of mouth sounds. Of course, they're also all words associated with revolting things.
The poem opens with what might be the reaction of somebody who's just seen something disgusting, and is currently frantically backpedaling. The second stanza is more of their reaction, but the third takes a shift in tone into something much more structured. It rhymes, and there's a lot more imagery. And the last line — the "gift" — introduces some measure of outrage in the reader: why would the speaker ever think that all these disgusting things are something the reader might want?!
The fourth stanza continues in this vain — imagery-rich description of creepy, crawly things that the reader is hopefully revolted by. Then, in the final line, the tone shifts back to the almost playful quality it had at the beginning. Having written and read, respectively, all that repulsive imagery, the speaker and reader join together for a moment in a final, detoxifying exclamation: "yelch!" The reader definitely felt revoluted in the middle of the poem — it's OK to alleviate an unpleasant emotion by the end a poem.
"lack of feeling or emotion : impassiveness; lack of interest or concern : indifference"
In the background, Sisyphus: have you heard about the latest Atrocity? one million women and children killed and nothing you can do about it.
Apathy is hard because it can be a couple of different things. It's a lack of emotion or caring, but — as reflected by the prevalence of "politics" in people's associations — it's often caused by a feeling of powerlessness.
The allusion to Sisyphus is to set the mood. Sisyphus expends enormous effort, continuously, and yet he never accomplishes anything. I thought that a reminder of those circumstances might incline the reader to apathy.
The second stanza tries to remind (or convince) the reader of their own powerlessness. The lowercase letters convey a defeated tone. The single capital letter is reserved for the word "Atrocity" — a reminder that whatever tragedy has occurred is something that matters, something with impact, but anything you or I say or do does not. "one million women and children" is sort of a hyperbole — if true, this tragedy would be an event of such a large scale, and with such stereotypically evil consequences, that it obviously hasn't actually occurred. But it seems plausible, almost, and the realization a split-second later that of course it's not actually true just drives home the point that there's no action the reader can take. In a world where this seems plausible, what's the point of anything? The last line articulates this point explicitly.
"the act of despising : the state of mind of one who despises : disdain; lack of respect or reverence for something;; the state of being despised;; willful disobedience to or open disrespect of a court, judge, or legislative body"
You hate me. I like to kick puppies on my days off from the Sadness Factory. You hate me. I once bought three happy meals just so I could dump the packaging on the ground in the public park. You hate me. or: I hate you. Red anger burning bright, Cold, sharp resolve hidden behind A sweet demeanor. I hate you.
Contempt is hard because the specific triggers for contempt will vary tremendously from person to person. It's also not just anger, which would be easier to evoke in the reader and/or convey. Contempt has a specific undercurrent of deservedness; the implication is that the object of contempt really ought to be ashamed of whatever they've done.
This poem is basically constructed in two parts. In the first three stanzas, I'm trying to get the reader to feel contempt for the speaker. To do so, I tried to construct a character who is just laughably evil. "[Kicking] puppies," working at the "Sadness Factory," littering: it doesn't get much worse than this. The repetition of "You hate me" serves two (related) purposes: it drills that idea into the reader's head, in the hopes that they'll become convinced it's true; and it attempts to convey/represent the single-minded obsession of a white-hot anger, to make the emotion more realistic.
In the last stanza, I'm trying to let the reader experience the contempt the speaker feels. (And, honestly, I don't think it really makes sense for this to be the same speaker as in the first three stanzas; this draft should probably end up as two separate poems.) The diamond shape of the stanza gives a visual of an arrowhead — the physical embodiment of the white-hot anger, coming for the reader. It also gives the stanza swell, crescendo, and diminuendo, which just makes it more exciting and interesting to read. The stanza starts with a single short word, and then a short, clipped phrase. In the third line, the speaker's resolve gives way; they unload their emotions and intentions on the reader, complete with vivid imagery ("Red anger burning bright"). As the flood peters out, we get the fifth and final invocation of hate within the poem. This time, there's a line break between the subject and the verb "hate," and so the last line focuses entirely on the emotion and the object of that emotion — the reader. The speaker is so blinded by their contempt, they barely remember who they are or why they're angry in the first place. The only thing that matters is that the reader is to be hated.