Discovering Form (2)

Four-Line Stanzas and Pairs

In contrast to free verse and triads, for me, a four-line stanza is very different: square-cornered, balanced, confident. Especially if written in metre and end rhyme, each four-line unit feels solid, complete in itself, a kind of concrete building block. Each helps move the poem along in a less tentative, more controlled step-by-step, even stately fashion. On the page it looks dense and substantial compared with expanding and diminishing triads. No wonder balladeers have chosen four-line stanzas for rhyming their stories.

Paired lines I find the most airy. Part of this effect, of course, is visual. The many white gaps between pairs allow breathing room on the page. However, I feel the effect is also thematic. Rather than the four-line stanza’s steady, contained building toward a conclusion, it’s as if pairs shower forth diverse ideas in hopes of catching some insight. And because they are fashioned in twos, like a human couple pairs suggest a potential for offspring—a poetic resolution, an answer.

Not all poems immediately reveal their desired shape. For a long time I have puzzled what form a new poem may be taking. Would a four-line arrangement sound too sure of itself to suit my theme? Triads might let emphasis fall on phrases that didn’t deserve playing up. However, keeping the poem to one long stanza ignored potential breaks midway in rhythm and sense. Eventually a particular arrangement asserted itself, even if that meant accepting that the poem was determined to remain free verse.