The Instrument Damaging Itself

  1. The Instrument Damaging Itself

Kushnir’s method sometimes causes its own linguistic instrument to malfunction. A sequence that begins according to a recognizable rule gradually mutates, breaks, or becomes incapable of maintaining its original order.

In poetry, the instrument may be meter, rhyme, grammar, alphabetical order, dictionary sequence, or stanza form. The poem establishes a formal system and then allows pressure from its subject to damage that system visibly.

Proper Maintenance of the Sonnet

The clock is wound. The room is swept and still.
Each measured line returns at measured pace.
The moon performs its ordinary will.
The mirror keeps the inventory of the face.

The locks are checked. The nouns remain in place.
No unauthorized sorrow enters here.
The rhyme reports each absence without trace.
The meter says the household has no fear.

But someone put a heartbeat in the wall.
But someone scratched a verb beneath the door.
But some—
but somen—
utsm—
ut smn pt a hrt bt n th ll—

The clock unwounds the mouth that wound the clock.
The room has room has ruin has urr—

The poem begins as a regular sonnet-like structure. Its meter, rhyme, grammar, and imagery all suggest control. The clock is wound, the room is swept, the nouns remain in place, and rhyme itself becomes an administrative instrument that “reports” absence.

The formal mechanism then begins to fail. Repetition interrupts the meter. Words lose letters. Grammar becomes unstable. “Someone put a heartbeat in the wall” introduces a living irregularity into the controlled structure. The poem can no longer maintain its measured pace.

The deterioration is productive. “The room has room has ruin” allows one word to transform visibly into another. The breakdown reveals meanings hidden inside the orderly form. “Room” contains the possibility of “ruin,” just as the stable household contains suppressed fear.

The poem does not abandon form from the beginning. It must first establish the instrument clearly enough that the reader can experience its damage. Self-breaking poetry depends upon the tension between rule and failure.

A poet applying this method might begin with a strict villanelle, pantoum, sonnet, acrostic, dictionary list, or procedural constraint. At a chosen point, the subject begins to deform the rule. Rhymes become approximate, refrains mutate, syllables disappear, or alphabetical sequences produce impossible letters. The formal collapse becomes part of the poem’s meaning.

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About the Author: Sarah B. Royal

Sarah B. Royal’s writing defies convention. Her poetry and prose traverse the boundaries between structure and spontaneity, often weaving together philosophical inquiry, cultural reflection, and personal narrative. With a background in experimental literature, she is known for crafting works that challenge readers to engage intellectually and emotionally.

Her acclaimed palindrome performance play, 777 – A Story of Idol Worship and Murder, showcases her fascination with mirrored storytelling and thematic symmetry. In o x ∞ = ♥: The Poet and The Mathematician, Royal explores the intersection of poetic intuition and mathematical logic, revealing a unique voice that is both analytical and lyrical.

Royal’s collections—such as Lost in the Lost and Found, Haiku For You, Lantern and Tanka Too, and the WoPoLi Chapbook Series—highlight her commitment to neurodivergent expression and poetic experimentation. Whether through childhood verse or contemporary fusion poetry, her work invites readers into a world where language is both a tool and a playground.

Sarah B. Royal continues to expand the possibilities of poetic form, offering readers a deeply personal yet universally resonant experience. Her writing is a testament to the power of creative risk, intellectual depth, and emotional authenticity.

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