Poetic Forms Used In English is a project in which I intend to write at least one poem in every form used in English and, as it is working out, to delve from time to time into forms from other languages which may not, so far, have been used in English. No one can put a definite number on how many "English" forms there are. The variations, variants, versions, the whole, partial or re-arranged borrowings from other languages, and the possibilities within forms are too numerous to offer a stable count. About 400 -- perhaps. Began on July 18, 1997 (after two aborted earlier efforts) I have as of today, February 5, 1999, written a poem in each of 326 different forms. The project continues...

The theme is desolation. Not only desolation of landscape and spirit, but desolation of the mind, of psyche, creative energy. Many are positive poems, as I happen to love the desolate landscape of the desert. When I drive into the desert, see the desolation, the form and the bones of the landscape, I feel I can breathe again. I love wide open spaces, spaces where "nothing" grows. I love the sea. I love paved over and bricked in spaces too, if they are beautifully proportioned and monumentally conceived as is Red Square at the University of Washington and Red Square in Moscow. When I was in Russia, the beauty of Red Square was mitigated, for there were guards standing about making sure you walked within marked paths across the vast open space. They didn't want you wandering just any place in the nothingness. There is danger -- perhaps especially -- in emptiness.

There are questions, poems, desolations of the mind that I cannot seem to get beyond. Desolations in trying to solve problems, particularly the problem: to see things as others do. I see the ridiculous in the held opinions about many things on this wide green ball bouncing through the void and realize that almost all of what is called "human knowledge" consists in mere entertainment for the mind.

There are desolations of being alone, desolations of being with others. There is also the desolation of acquiring orphanhood at sixty-three; desolation as seen in a sea of sand; in a morning with nothing to do. The poems are being posted in the order in which they were written. They are, however, indexed alphabetically by form name. (Some of the poems, but by no means all of them, have individual names). Eventually I hope to cross-indexed all the poems by type, country of origin, etc.

For the most part, I choose the form of the day at random -- whatever happens to strike my fancy. An open-ended adventure -- as is life. I very much enjoy these wanderings on the "grid", and hope that you will too.

Jan Haag
February 26, 1999
University of Washington
Seattle, Washington