This is one of my favorite words, although I've only used it twice in my poetry, once in a baseball poem and one about lurve.
Wiki says--In poetry, syzygy is the combination of two metrical feet into a single unit, similar to an elision. Consonantal or phonetic syzygy is also similar to the effect of alliteration, where one consonant is used repeatedly throughout a passage, but not necessarily at the beginning of each word.
Mathematician James Joseph Sylvester (1814-1897) employed "the apt juncture of syllables" in his poetry, a serious avocation and the subject of an article in the current Bulletin of the AMS. The author speculates "about which of the nine muses would most likely have been given the assignment of overseeing [Sylvester's] monochromatic verse.. "'The deaf one,'" some wag volunteered.
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Musing
You've used the actual word twice, or the feature it describes?
I'm not sure which I would consider most difficult.
Here's hoping I don't make you sorry you asked, Dale!
A Small Perturbation in the Stands (1)
Shock rocked the stadium
the day the pitcher struck out the seagull.
Someone flipped a fair coin into thin air.
Its glint bribed the sky with false promises.
When the bird dropped from a flock overhead
wings fanned the coin ambiguously.
Heads or tails? No one could have predicted
such perfect syzygy of bird ball and bat!
The pitcher’s true arm waylaid tried instincts
with a powerhouse thwack . A flutter of feathers
sprayed the uppermost sky as if a pillow had been shot.
Mathematicians & gambling men know:
the rarer the event, the larger the deviation.
From the norm? From what’s true?
The long hard jock begs the question
from the back of his stretch limousine.
Sometimes the sky holds up an unlikely blue moon.
Sometimes coincidence slides into home plate
of the miraculous.
Married to Geometry (2) Can a circle catch a circle? Follow the curve of your pursuit until all the windows intersect the ceiling at obtuse angles. Sashes drift past cubed corners, rounding the point which has no part, and under the bedroom door (swollen shut on your syllogism) oblong light stretches and yawns. A implies B, you say. The proof falls in perfect syzygy along the grooved love line of your palm.
Cheryl Snell www.shivasarms.blogspot.com
Double Trouble Bubble
OK - so I didn't think of a syzygyicle double header. I'm a square.
And - no - I'm not sorry I asked.