Loka, Loka! you ... boy! it is a delightful banjo song!!!!! I could write the music!!!!
thanks a lot for the fun! and the best of years to you! Bar
Loka, Loka! you ... boy! it is a delightful banjo song!!!!! I could write the music!!!!
thanks a lot for the fun! and the best of years to you! Bar
Loka... have you been reading Wilmot lately.
Beware of the man with just one book. -Ovid
The man who doesn't read good books has no advantage over the man who can't read them.- Mark Twain
My Blog: Of Delicious Recoil
http://stlukesguild.tumblr.com/
They are all good ones. Who knows. We might actually have a long lasting writer in this forum, assuming the manifestations are a lot. Of these I vote for Metaphysic.
I think Lokasenna is long lasting and I think the poem is actually much better than others here realize.
"The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its' own reason for existing." ~ Albert Einstein
"Remember, no matter where you go, there you are." Buckaroo Bonzai "Some people say I done alright for a girl." Melanie Safka
Thank you everyone for so much positive feedback! I'm rather overwhelmed!
"I should only believe in a God that would know how to dance. And when I saw my devil, I found him serious, thorough, profound, solemn: he was the spirit of gravity- through him all things fall. Not by wrath, but by laughter, do we slay. Come, let us slay the spirit of gravity!" - Nietzsche
I have a large poetic project on the go at the moment (estimated time till completetion: probably four lifetimes), but this was a little something that had lurking 95% complete in my notebook for a while - I took the trouble the other day to complete it. For those of you who have had the stamina to read through my poetry, you'll realise this is something quite different for me. It was partly written as an exercise to improve my use of rhythm (perhaps successfully..?), but also because the ideas within were attractive to me. As always, constructive criticism is very welcome!
this is the way
The world corrupts, the world corrupts and falls,
and bright hoar ice inscribes the standing stones
about this place of death, this place of loss,
with veins of crackling cold, the script of time
writ large upon the silent graves around.
For we, the unfulfilled, that linger long,
too long, upon this whittling witless world,
yet know the truth that lies beneath our own
low pulse, that day by day counts out our lives.
It is the secret silence and the maw,
the fateful tick, the tock, and nothing more.
"I should only believe in a God that would know how to dance. And when I saw my devil, I found him serious, thorough, profound, solemn: he was the spirit of gravity- through him all things fall. Not by wrath, but by laughter, do we slay. Come, let us slay the spirit of gravity!" - Nietzsche
Hi Loki, it's always nice to see you venture into this neck of the woods. Nice iambic Pentameter. The opening line bothers me a little, but only because it is unclear whether you are merely being rhetorical with the repetition of, "The world corrupts" or rather, as i would like to interpret it, making two separate statements, in that the world is corrupting it's inhabitants as well as decaying itself. I do wonder why you went for 11 lines. 10 would have been neater (or better yet 14 for an unrhymed sonnet, although a sonnet (traditionally a love poem form) to decay and death, might be a little gothic!
Given the metre I think 10 lines would be a nice round number and I might be bold enough to suggest cutting line 1 of S2 and replacing "yet" in S2 L3 with "we" to facilitate it, but it's only a suggestion.
Live and be well - H
... and nothing more.
Awww, Loka, I have missed your poetry as well! That piece about the rooster warmed the cockles of my, errr, heart because I do love bawdy rhymes (ever read any of Burns' or Auden's dirty pieces? They're such fun!)
With your latest piece, I'd definitely say you've improved your metrical art significantly. There are several iambic substitutions, but they all seem to be governed by the sense, rather than just being randomly placed. EG, the spondee of "counts out" pairs well with the pyrrhics of "It is" and "(sil)ence and" in the next line; it's as if the "counting" is the hand of fate hammering down on us, while the swiftness in the next line because of the pyrrhics imitate the speed with which that time flies. So that's a perfect illustration of how to use meter to manipulate the aesthetic and semantic sense of the lines. I'm also a sucker for alliteration, and you have plenty of it it; though you do have to watch out that it doesn't become so noticeable that it's distracting: "whittling witless world" comes awfully close to being too OTT, with its adj., adj., noun, W, W, W pairing.
I do agree with Hawk that this piece really wants to have two 5-line stanzas rather than a 5 and a 6 line piece. One thing to think about in the future is how to use such symmetry to parallel lines in one stanza with the next, using it to develop motifs and ideas across a piece. A perfect example of that in a short poem is Browning's Meeting at Night, which parallels almost every line/idea/image/motif in the first stanza with something in the second.
On the theme, it really reminded me of the image of Destiny walking through his realm holding his book while the world crumbled in Neil Gaiman's Sandman. I think it was the bits about "the script of time" (He was always studying these huge scrolls). But it is a nice, dark, gothic piece with a very nice usage of rhythm and sound.
I may take your lead and begin posting all of my poems in a single thread as well... what do you think?
"As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light of meaning in the darkness of mere being." --Carl Gustav Jung
"To absent friends, lost loves, old gods, and the season of mists; and may each and every one of us always give the devil his due." --Neil Gaiman; The Sandman Vol. 4: Season of Mists
"I'm on my way, from misery to happiness today. Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh" --The Proclaimers
Thank you for such detailed feedback! I felt rather pleased with myself over the first line (a sure sign that I've done something wrong!) - I wanted to convey the sense of repetition right from the start, an implied version of the tick-tock that appears in the final line. I suppose how one interprets that repetition, from any kind of narrative perspective, is entirely subjective. As for the number of lines, I honestly didn't think it that important - my thought process was to simply say what I wanted to say, and leave it at that. The break between the two verses simply seemed natural. Other than deciding to compose in blank verse (apart from the last couplet), I had given little thought to the construction of the poem.
I'll give it a try and see how it looks, but I'd be sad to lose the repetition of 'long/ too long'!Given the metre I think 10 lines would be a nice round number and I might be bold enough to suggest cutting line 1 of S2 and replacing "yet" in S2 L3 with "we" to facilitate it, but it's only a suggestion.
Yes indeed! Nothing like a bit of filthy poetry to cheer you up and remind you that great poets are human too!Originally Posted by MorpheusSandman
Thank you! Yes, I'm a sucker for alliteration as well, and as I wrote that line I wondered whether I'd overstepped the mark, but decided to run with it. I'm very pleased that you thought the rhythm worked out - as I'm sure some of my previous efforts have demonstrated, it's not always been my strong point!Originally Posted by MorpheusSandman
It's interesting that you and Hawk both think this - as I say above, I didn't really think about it. I hadn't realised it unbalanced the poem in this way.Originally Posted by MorpheusSandman
I think it is a great idea, and I wish more people would do it - particularly the more prolific poets. I'll often read a poem on here and like it, then several weeks/months later I'll remember it for some reason, but have to spend a long time searching if I want to re-read it. This system makes things considerably easier!I may take your lead and begin posting all of my poems in a single thread as well... what do you think?
Indeed!Originally Posted by cafolini
"I should only believe in a God that would know how to dance. And when I saw my devil, I found him serious, thorough, profound, solemn: he was the spirit of gravity- through him all things fall. Not by wrath, but by laughter, do we slay. Come, let us slay the spirit of gravity!" - Nietzsche
Well Loka, this one is best left to the professionals. As for the rest of us, we'll just say we're still reading your stuff after all this time.
J
This has been lurking on my computer for a while, and I've been uncertain about posting it up. It is very unlike the poetry I usually write, and I'm not entirely sure it is successful. Still, I've had productive feedback on it from some people - though I remain uncertain about it.
Vignettes of Childhood and Brutality
The mother murders her children with a knife.
She slits the cellophane wrapper on the pizza,
their third this week.
The highlights, the thick mascara,
lips with their soft, red promise,
the tantalizing, enticing garment
that shows the glory of her cleavage:
she walks with a confident sway,
a hint of sex upon the air.
She is twelve years old.
The cocksure youth senses potential
amidst the sweat, the noise, the drowning lights
of the dark club.
He romances the only way he knows how,
grinding his organ against her,
a frantic animal fearing the onset of a sentiment.
The thrill of the hunt
is only in the f***.
The people move like a temperate day,
the rolls of fat
like waves upon the sea.
The tins of Stella litter the yard,
Daddy's garden gnomes,
that pour their urine on dry grass
and smile at Daddy's red nose.
Jake and Marie are at play,
and Jake has a new favourite word:
c**t, c**t, c**t.
Marie is in tears because
he called her a 'virgin' -
she does not know what it means.
Incest would be kinder.
The glossy magazines,
with their colour and venom,
pass the time, the cigarettes,
till her man returns to her
from his latest eight month stretch.
In the corner,
beneath a carrier bag,
lies the cot,
warm, whimpering,
forgot.
There is a certain cruelty
in time spent.
The clever creatures had to die,
the blue planet sinks.
I wonder what it knew?
"I should only believe in a God that would know how to dance. And when I saw my devil, I found him serious, thorough, profound, solemn: he was the spirit of gravity- through him all things fall. Not by wrath, but by laughter, do we slay. Come, let us slay the spirit of gravity!" - Nietzsche