AI Tries To Help Me Write Dactylic Hexameter
It fails. But it's certainly entertaining!
I am not a poet.
Do you think that ever stops me from regurgitating words in rhythmic meter when the Muse bwongs me on the head? Heck no! (Even if said meter exists solely in that weirdo creative space between my ears.) Sometimes it doesn’t stop me from rhyming either.
This was one of those occasions.
When Demeter, Earth Mother, first introduced Herself to me many years ago, She informed me that a prophesy had been made when Her daughter, Persephone, was born. (We’ll get to Mama’s feelings about said prophesy in a tick.)
Now, why on Earth’s great primordial butt any deity would entrust the penning of a prophesy to me, I will never know. But She did. It puked out my fingertips in one sitting and has only ever undergone minor tweaks. That’s because, when I held it up to show off the rough draft with the cheesiest grin I have, She patted me on the head and said, “That will suffice, mortal. For now.”
And Lo, I was pleased with myself.
“Also,” said She.
Pleasure dropped off my face.
“You shall be required to transform this cheese-covered, dookie-stuffed, tripe tart into dactylic hexameter. The form in which ✨MY✨ Homeric Hymn is composed.”1
Me: 😳
Also me: …
And then: 🤣🤣🤣 Please forgive my puny mortal brains. You want me to do WHAT now, and for how many figgy newtons?!
She: *rumble of ground under my feet*
Me: *properly on my face* Ummm… Y-Yes, Goddess. I hear and obey.
What is dactylic hexameter, you may ask?
Riiiiiiight…gotcha, Great Goddess.
Obedient mortal that I am, I brought my cheesy tripe tart to a local poetry group. Some of these poets were quite swank, having published poetry books and everything, so I figured I was in the right place. I told them the above tale (leaving out the Divine conversational nature of it, of course). They suggested I read it aloud.
Feeling like a jackass, but eternally willing to throw myself under the embarrassment bus for the sake of my art, I did:
Bringer of Blossomtime, Sprite of Light
Delicate fingers, hands of might
Flowers bloom at her caressing
Every footstep is a blessingPersephone she shall be named
A gentle soul and yet untamed
Rosy cheeks and rose-gold pate
And rose-kissed lips—the perfect baitSky shall turn his head aside
As violent-made the maid ‘comes bride
Chained and splayed upon his wall
Dragged to unrecovered fallAnd she to rest her silver’d head
Where oath-making stream is fed
Where souls have no need of sleeping
All shall rue her mother’s weepingSoul of Nightshade, Bride of Rot
Cursed, her seed, a woeful lot
Dancing, singing, overjoyed
All is nurtured, all destroyedYet from ashes wound is mended
Age-old strife at last suspended
Mother, sister, friend unhinged
She long damned will be avenged
~Prophesy of Persephone
Made at Her birth by Themis at Delphoi
Amidst the cricket chorus, the hoitiest of the toities was the first to reply. “Well. It certainly rhymes.”
Well spotted, sir. Well spotted.
Only one other cool gal way down at the end of the table jumped in with encouraging compliments about the things I did well, if only to prevent me from sliding down my chair, there to dig my way to Tartaros with my pie fork.
I don’t remember what she said because I’m not a poet so it didn’t really stick. And besides, I had never planned on working this particular poem as it is. It’s the imagery and the story that’s most important, not these exact words and definitely not the sing-songy rhythm.
I asked some of my poet friends for help. They laughed and said, “Dactylic hexameter? No flippin’ way I can tackle that!”
I tried to comprehend the Homeric form via YouTube videos and blog posts on the subject. Dactylic hexameter? No flippin’ way I can tackle that.
Ever since Dain Bramage, I have a hard time even reading poetry, so trying to learn this ancient form that, from the little I understand, is not terribly conducive to the English language is quite beyond me. I’ve gathered that it has something to do with the way we stress sylLAbles versus the way they need to flow for this style.
As such, someone who is really well versed (badum-tss—didn’t even try for that one) with hexameter would have to confirm or deny that.
I am absolutely not attached to this particular style, if this is the case. Demeter Herself has also informed me that I am allowed to switch to a more easily convertible form, provided it is equally ancient and equally Greek. (She’ll take their predecessors, too, since this prophesy was uttered waaaaay before the 8th Century BC. Heck, this sucker was delivered before Agamemnon and Akhilleus were even hot spots in their parents’ loins so…yeah.)
Then again, since I am not a poet or composer, I don’t understand what differentiates Ionic from Aeolic any more than I understand what differentiates Boom-Bap from Gangsta Rap.
These are simply things my brain cannot process by absorbing them through 2D mediums, whether static or not, with or without audio. Even a group class would do me no good because it’s unreasonable to ask any instructor to derail one’s entire sylLAbus for my specific disability needs in the pursuit of this one specific project. I would require very patient private lessons from a hefty classicist. Alas. Dain Bramaged dancer girls who have to pay for the restoration of their spines and brains on their own dimes don’t get to afford that kind of instruction.
It will probably require some generous soul who needs to save the human race and the ears of these esteemed Divinities from my hack-bastardizer blundering. Or…you know…me winning the lottery so I can simply hire someone to do it for me.
Thus has this poem sat collecting dust for years. All references within the prose of our story quote this temporary tart. (And this prophesy gets mentioned a lot. Its double-meanings and misinterpretations cause some of the biggest Divine shenanigans in the story so…it’s just a little important.)
Enter the internet’s obsession with this newfangled thing called Chat GPT.
My curiosity was peaked. I doubted the program could concoct anything like what I needed, but I figured it would have to be better than what I had come up with. Right?
RIGHT?!
Chatty-Bot’s First Attempt:
Here's your poem rewritten in dactylic hexameter:
Bringer of Blossomtime, sprite of light so fair,
Hands both delicate and strong, a sight beyond compare,
Every blossom in her touch awakens, it's no wonder,
Every step she takes is blessed, like thunder.Persephone she's called, a soul so gentle yet wild,
Rosy cheeks and hair of gold, and lips like roses mild,
The sky turns its head away as her fate turns dire,
Violently taken as a bride, her fate so dire.Chained and splayed upon a wall, dragged down to the Underworld,
Silver head finds rest where the oath-making stream is swirled,
The land where souls have no need for sleep, a mournful plight,
All rue her mother's weeping, Persephone's eternal night.Soul of Nightshade, Bride of Rot, cursed seed, a woeful lot,
Dancing, singing, all she nurtures, and in destruction's knot,
Yet from ashes her wounds are mended, a resolution so grand,
Age-old strife is finally ended, vengeance served at last at hand.
I hope you find this version of your poem in dactylic hexameter both enjoyable and true to the original spirit of your work!
Me: Oh! Ummmmmm…huh. Thanks.
I mean, I was impressed with the fact that, before I had barely pushed “Paste—Enter” the thing started spitting out line after line, rapid-fire. I was also impressed that it had, as requested, maintained the integrity of what I was trying to get across.
But I hadn’t remembered The Iliad rhyming.
‘Bot confirmed my inquiry:
No, the Iliad does not rhyme in the original Greek. The Iliad is an epic poem composed in dactylic hexameter, which is a meter consisting of six metrical feet per line, each of which is either a dactyl (a long syllable followed by two short syllables) or a spondee (two long syllables). While dactylic hexameter has a distinct rhythmic structure, it does not employ end rhymes like many modern poems do. Instead, the poem's structure relies on the meter and the use of repeated epithets and formulaic language to create a sense of rhythm and repetition.
Since a quick run upstairs confirmed that my copy in English also doesn’t rhyme, I asked ‘bot to try again, but this time with no rhyming. Apologetic and ingratiating, it assured me that it could accomplish this.
‘Bot’s Second Attempt
Bringer of blossom-time, light's fairy sprite,
Fingers so delicate, yet hands of might,
At her touch, flowers bloom in profusion,
Every footfall a joyful infusion.Persephone, the gentle, yet untamed,
Rosy cheeks, rose-gold hair, rose-kissed lips framed,
Heavens turn away as she becomes bride,
Chained, splayed upon walls, dragged, worlds collide.And now she rests her silvery head,
Where oath-making streams flow, souls long dead,
No need for sleep, forever bright,
Her mother's weeping a mournful sight.Soul of nightshade, bride of rot, cursed lot,
Dancing, singing, all destroyed, all wrought,
But from ashes, wounds are mended, strife ended,
Mother, sister, friend unhinged, wrongs amended.
Me: Hmmmmmmmmmm…methinks it did not understand me.
I asked it, using different phrasing, if it could remove the rhyming.
‘Bot’s Third Assurance
Yes, I can translate the poem into dactylic hexameter while removing the rhyming scheme. Here is the translation:
Bringer of blossom-time, a sprite of light,
With delicate fingers, yet hands of might,
Flowers bloom at her touch, her footsteps bless,
Persephone, her name, gentle, yet untamed, no less.Rosy cheeks, rose-gold hair, rose-kissed lips,
The heavens turn away as violent-made, she strips,
Chained, splayed upon the walls, dragged, worlds collide,
As she becomes a bride, with no place to hide.And now she rests her silvery head, where oath-making streams flow,
Souls long dead, with no need to sleep or know,
Her mother's weeping, a mournful sight,
As she lies in the dark, forever bright.Soul of nightshade, bride of rot, cursed lot,
Dancing, singing, all nurtured, all destroyed, all wrought,
But from ashes, wounds are mended, age-old strife at last suspended,
Mother, sister, friend unhinged, all wrongs finally ended.
Me: …
Also me: Um…
Reason #4385 why human poets, especially of the caliber qualified to tackle this ancient form, need not worry about being rendered obsolete by iPoet. (At least not today.)
Soooooo…yeah. At this point, I thanked ‘bot for its services. (Hey, man, this service was gifted to me for free, so courtesy and gratitude are never remiss. Besides, when iRobot happens, Big Sister VIKI will remember every interaction I’ve ever had with Her ‘bots.) I then shut down my phone and went to bed, bummed but thoroughly tickled by this experiment.
Thus does poor Persephone’s birth prophesy remain a cheese-topped tart. The Bringer of Blossomtime has informed me that She finds it enjoyable to prance to it and dance to it while flinging flowers, for which I’m relieved. Of course, some days She is as easily entertained as I am.
Her Mother? Her Husband?
Not so much.
(The Queen of the Underworld also regrets that she cannot send Orpheus up to assist me at this moment because…rules. Now, if I wanted to come downstairs and learn at the side of the maestro, I’m welcome anytime but that would be contrary to my mission here, so no. Thank you, Mistress. Later, please. Because right now I have too many things I’m trying to accomplish.)
Since this whole project is a work in progress, happily inviting suggestions to make it less tripey. Our Prophesy will have to suffice as-is for the moment. Otherwise we’ll never get to upload any other chapters around here.
And what would be the fun in that?
Blossoms needs some verse forthwith
Pitch to ‘bot—swing and a mith
Haides swears he ain’t no Sith
This is Twisted History/Myth
Mmmm…this ode is by one of my absolute favorite composers on YouTube. Enjoy.2
Up Next: Yet another randy god asks Demeter for her daughter’s hand in marriage in FINGERTIP STROKING.
Oh, did you miss the opening chapter?
The Homeric Hymn to Demeter, translated by Gregory Nagy. One of the main ancient sources that provided the inspiration for our tales here.
Seriously. If you are as obsessed with the Greek Gods and with music as I am, check out the whole ever-growing series of these odes by an epic storyteller who spins in music & imagery. Gods, Titans, Temples, Themes…brilliant. He’s been expanding beyond the Greek Pantheon, too.
The entire playlist of songs that I listen to for inspiration while working on this series:
—On YouTube
—On Spotify
Original poem - © 2015 Hartebeast
AI shenanigans - © 2023 Hartebeast