Enjoy the Waffling

Yesterday I saw something inspiring. Or, more intriguingly, I didn't see something, and that absence itself was what was inspiring.

Sam Blakely is a graduating student of IWU's MLLC, who presented his senior capstone project over a collection of poetry using an experimental form he dubbed "Silent! Verse".

I am a HUGE fan of this form, not only because he paraphrased Syndrome from the Incredibles when presenting it (we'll get to that shortly) but also because it powerfully isolates the reader by rendering the poems practically impossible to read aloud to the same effect as they visually lay on a page. Here's Syndrome:

"And when everyone's super… [insert evil cackle] no one will be"

-Syndrome (The Incredibles, 2004)

When Blakely said it however, it was less fantastical and more realistic, along the lines of, "when everyone's talking, no one is" which is arguably so much more thought provoking. 

Finally! Something that addresses the overabundance of people addressing social injustices. With the onslaught of new media, and algorithms encouraging audacity, often only the loudest people are heard. But then enough people parrot those voices to the beat of a massive subwoofer called society and any chance of opposition is drowned out.

By using unconventional punctuation, line, and placement variations, Blakely adds pause to the process of reading poetry. One of his poems, for example, showed insanity on a page–well, four pages more precisely: The first page has a poem stretched across the surface of the paper in a strange manner. Then, the second page appears differently, and that visual change may lead readers to experience a false hope of content variation. But the second page reads just the same as the first. And the third follows suit, with the same poem in a new tie. And the fourth after that. The pages stack on top of each other experientially, building up and tearing down a false hope of sense.

You can probably tell why I like this concept so much.

Most of the other poems Blakely shared in his presentation focused instead on variations in line and spacing. He used "         " to construct pauses, and;

different               orientationsofwords to

   either con–

fuse     or                   engage

readers in interesting ways.

Now, if you were to try to read these poems aloud–then you may confuse both yourself and your listeners. That. right. there. is the method Blakely has employed to isolate a reader. These are not poems meant to be read aloud, they are instead poems to be individually digested–like bubble gum you don't share, except it's punctuation you're chewing. Sure, you can respond to the poem aloud, but it itself cannot be shouted to add to the already thunderous wave of opinion crashing through every screen. 

Instead of adding to the ocean, Silent! Verse plays in the sand. It draws pictures using the placements of words, and with those pictures tells a story not even musical rhymes can. But rather, using gaps to say silence–punctuation to interrupt + or add: x=y but y does x? 

The only other form of poetry I've seen that visually approaches the art, rather than rhythmically or otherwise musically (with rhyme or song) is when words are arranged into a picture. But that's cheating! Or at least, is employing imagery formed by words as pixels, not as the magnificent symbol they hold as words. At least, not in the same way that they are embodied in Silent! Verse. 

If I was to pick up painting again, I would want it to be with words. And Silent! Verse enables that.

I hope to add at least one poem in Blakely's form to my in-progress poetry book "Waffles Are The Sponsor Of My Woes" (abbreviated to Waffles). The form, however, seems to be in direct contradiction to how I have written most, if not all, of my poetry. I have written it with the expectation for it to be shared aloud. I write them to roll off the tongue, sing-songy, even Dr. Seuss-esque at times. 

"Waffles Are The Sponsor Of My Woes" is a collection of food metaphors about love, meant to be shared with a grin and a giggle–though few are solely happy in nature. The sweet syrup of subtle metaphor masks the misery beneath the words. 

For example, a haiku:

sugary facade

dissolving against your tongue

leaving nothing left

or fast-paced flavors jumble as they rush down your throat:

"cookbook"

Words are my feelings

my butter and bread

words are the only things

up in my head

jumbled and bruising

some downright confusing

I seem to be losing

all parts of my mind

to this foray of letters

of phrases of rhyme

the only thing left

is a matter of time

until you all look

and I am a cook

writing a book

to just watch it burn.

or a longer, more intense metaphor is found in a 

"flapjack"

Pour out the sweet batter

on a hot griddle.

If the temperature's right

it'll soon start to sizzle.

Have your spatula ready!

so it doesn't burn.

The first flip is tricky!

it's something you earn.

If you get that first flip

now you see a new side.

What will you do

if its smile is wide?

I'd let it sit

while I take in the view–

but the other side blackens

if that's what you do…

Oh shoot! you remember.

so you flip it right quick.

You'd added some butter,

so it doesn't stick.

But now you're stuck 

with a face dark as coal.

Distance and anger

were never the goal.

What do you do?

When this all is new?

Pretend you don't see it?

Smother it with a goo?

Something thick, something sweet,

like fluffy whipped topping.

But if you knew better

all you'd be is dropping

Me right in the trash,

one side black as ash.

Because flip all you want

but that side you don't see

still ruins a flapjack

and both sides are me.

Waffles is dedicated to the color red, and may be released in the next couple years. I'm currently up to 34 poems (plus a handful of haikus), but would like to get it to at least a hundred before entering the ruthless editing phase (during which it may be culled back to 75-80). I've been at it for less than a year, however, (as I started it during the SP2025 semester in Dr. Linda Manganello's Interpersonal Communications Class–yes, during her class, it's okay, she knows.) so it shouldn't take more than two more years, ideally. 

Because Waffles is intended to be read aloud, I will produce (alongside the physical book) audio tracks for each of the poems, which will be available to listen to somewhere on this website as a supplement to the book. I'm not sure how a publisher would feel about that, but I plan to do it regardless, because the emotion and inflection and pacing behind most of the poems is what makes them work. And, I just love reading out loud!

Lastly, while I've already established and permitted my additions of communications-focused writing to this "art blog" in the somewhat recent post "Communication is an Art Form", poetry is even closer than Communication Studies to the typical "art" 

so enjoy the waffling.