It’s not often that I’m moved to verse, but it’s also not often that I hear of a
New
Poetic
Form
.
Hooray for the Anchored Terset [sic]; forged by Lisa Matthews among the sparks of creation coming off Northumberland’s Northern Poetry Library in honour of National Libraries Day on 6 February.
The Anchored Terset strips poetry down to the bones, consisting of four lines, three words and just one piece of punctuation. According to the library’s website, the new form is defined by just two rules:
Firstly, an anchored terset may only be made of three words, and its unusual spelling is a nod to the terseness of short forms. Kennings and hyphenated words may be counted as one word for those wanting to experiment and stretch the form.
Whatever three-word combination a poet or writer comes up with, the second rule of the form is that the terset must be anchored by a full-stop on the fourth line (although again, those wanting to break the rules could employ other grammatical marks).
This forward-thinking new form must be perfect for social media, I hear you saying, and – sure enough – there’s a cheery invitation to tweet your own attempts at this “democratic” new form using the hashtag #anchoredterset. Others may be wondering if you can really make a poem out of just three words; a question that can surely only be answered by giving it a go:
Need
More
Coffee
.
Or, inspired by the suddenly longwinded-seeming haiku’s traditional attachment to nature, perhaps:
Steel
Skies
Split
.
I’m sure you folks can do better, but – as with any new artform – the billion-dollar question is: will it catch on? It seems to me that the Anchored Terset may find most favour with those mavericks who dare to “employ other grammatical marks”, as the Northern Poetry Library suggests. Perhaps you’ll permit me to return to my beginnings, and share with you an audacious reworking of my first ever Anchored Terset:
New
Poetic
Form
?
