Make intelligent mistakes. (No idea who said this.)
What interests me about rhyming is how it can force you to say something that you didn’t intend to say. It can make your poem go in a new direction. It may not work, but sometimes it does. What I admire about poets who rhyme is their ability to make a rhyme fall naturally, as if it were planned and not a happy fuck-up.
“Whistler’s canvases for the works he called the ‘Nocturnes’ were prepared, Attlee explains, with a red or gray ground, on to which he would wash what he called his ‘sauce,’ a runny mixture of oil paint, linseed oil, turpentine and a mastic called copal. This medium was so liquid that canvases had to be placed on the floor to prevent the image slipping away entirely.” [Lost source.]
(Copyright 2018 James Mansfield Nichols. All rights reserved.)