I'll share.

[Bartholomew]

Logos
by: Edward Alan Bartholomew

As lips and flesh on chilling cheeks are cherried
With the morning's touch
Although they wrinkle in the twilight's clutch,
So let day fade
And night parade;
So let the sun be buried
But march its fires on the moonlight's crutch.

And if the sun in summer sky burns sere
But in the winter white
Can't but reflect itself in icy light,
Then let it burn
The eyes that spurn
The turning of the year;
Then let its fires singe all ling'ring sight.

As lips and tongues in chilly cheeks defend
Their shape in shallow plots;
Seem capable of speaking as they rot,
So peace is sought
Though war is fought
Not till all battles end;
Not till we cremate those we last forgot.

[Bartholomew]

Not to interrupt all the comments or anything, but I figured I'd post another poem to quell you dogs' appetites.

Untitled Advice
by: Edward Alan Bartholomew

LEARN
that feet may mar Juturna’s spring
with trampled dust debris,
but wind will move the tarnished tide to sea;
that though she flies, the cooing dove
will never know to sing;
that no decree
from up above
can save our love;
that weakened, we
can’t but a string
in Cupid’s crowded quiver
shove

KNOW
that I step once into a river
but cannot again,
for waters now were not the waters then,
and I and myself past are different men;
that if you douse the flame of care
I’ll greet you with a shiver;
that even when
the stream runs rare
or flame lacks air
in Neptune’s den,
they still deliver
till there’s not a thing
to spare

[blp]

Rowf! Excellent. Bart, if I may call you that, a lot of good stuff gets ignored here. Don't take it personally. Or take it as a compliment. These rock, especially the first one. I love the 'cherried' line and lots more and the rhyme scheme. Excuse my ignorance of poetic form, but did you invent it?

[Pendragon]

I'm with Blp, Bart. Wow! If that first poem is your own invention, and I'd lay odds it is, you definately need to get into the contests!



As lips and flesh on chilling cheeks are cherried
With the morning's touch
Although they wrinkle in the twilight's clutch,
So let day fade
And night parade;
So let the sun be buried
But march its fires on the moonlight's crutch.


This grabs one's attention at once, and doesn't let go. It's the last line that I love the best, for some reason, probably because I always thought that the "Sun shining in the middle of the night" in the "Walrus and the Carpenter" by Lewis Carroll always got my attention.

Great one!

http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l108/AbsalomKane/Smilies/ThumbsUp.gif

[Bartholomew]

Thanks, fellas. Yes, I "invented" the meter/rhyme schemes used in the poems. I've written so much in form, meter, and rhyme that it comes very naturally to me now (I sometimes even find my thoughts reveal themselves in iambs). However, I found that I sympathize with the opinions of free-verse purists, which put me in a tough position. This method of writing is my compromise between the styles, and with more work I hope it'll become my trademark.

[SleepyWitch]

hi Bartholomew, I loved the first poem you posted, especially the middle stanza


And if the sun in summer sky burns sere
But in the winter white
Can't but reflect itself in icy light,
Then let it burn
The eyes that spurn
The turning of the year;
Then let its fires singe all ling'ring sight.

i will give you more feedback once I've got a better grasp of the poem's meaning :)

[Riesa]

yes..lovely. like words that have always been written somewhere on the wind, or in our souls. plucked them out, and then, you place them down. thanks.

[Bartholomew]

This is a somewhat sacrilegious rhyming sestina I penned one night.

The Fall
by: Edward Alan Bartholomew

And so a man was made on slumber's eve
And given ample earth on which to lie,
And never planting foot on which to leave
Would never know the willing choice to die;
Would never peer beyond the verdant wall;
Would never see the foliage of fall

In gathering the fruit that daily falls
To sup the living life that very eve,
Confinèd there within the lonely walls
He coveted a mate with whom to lie;
With whom to live the days and never die
And never from the garden wish to leave

But from her partner's sight the rib would leave,
Retrieve the Fruit which hadn't time to fall,
And cast all luck along the rolling die
To try the Fruit together in the eve,
Believe the admonition of God's lie,
And thus defy the writing on the wall

And so from sitting weak-kneed on the wall
They'd crawl from life, and from the garden leave,
But not naïve; they understood my lie!
They chose to die! They chose the bitter Fall!
For Adam's everlasting love for Eve
Would long outlast the damning day they die

And what derision! Contracted to die
And placed within a brick within a wall
To shift and shiver till the Rapture's eve
When all committed souls would up and leave
The ample earth to which they chose to fall,
On which they chose to ever love and lie

You have no will if will you not to lie
Within the earthy plots in which you die;
For what good comes of Eve and Adam's Fall
To trap yourselves again within God's walls?
If anything, your mortal thought should leave
An everlasting life's fallacious eve

For in this eve is found the greatest lie
Since only those who leave will never die,
Since only from the wall can Adam fall

[Pendragon]

Subject aside, it's a good sestina.

http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l108/AbsalomKane/Smilies/PuppyLove.gif

[Bartholomew]

Just wrote this, thought I'd share and see what others think as I let it ferment.

Child of Favor
by Edward Alan Bartholomew

Fame is born on Favor's stage
And cries to those obscure:
"Of me you tire as you age—
Forget as you mature."

Ill-defined, amorphous speak
Is matched with moan and sigh;
Then all declare "We're each unique!"
But one alone: "Not I—
O fear of God—not I!"

Indignant now, the crowd disband,
Walk each a different way,
Yet all will lie beneath the land
Upon their dying day.

We now return to Favor's Fame,
Who since was left alone
And, lacking Favor, did proclaim
"I fear I am unknown—
O fear of God—unknown!"

[Bartholomew]

Here's a song I wrote this morning for one of my mates who's been spending more time with his girl than with his friends.

Oh, Mike

Mike, I need to tell you
That I don't know what compelled you
To go and get a girl behind my back
Was I not stunning in the sack?
Wherever you got her, bring her back
I can't stand this lifeless hack

Well, sure, she's very pretty
And is kind of witty
But she just isn't a substitute for me
I think that Leon would agree
She just ain't my cup of tea
Ooh, she's a bitter cup of tea

She may have charm
But it takes more to run a farm
What ever happened to our soya beans?
How could you forget about our dreams
To manufacture lactose-free ice creams?
Ooh, you did forget, it seems

You think that she's your honey
But she's in it for the money
I bet she made you change your living will
Do I get your TV still?
Oh she wants your blood to spill
She is coming for the kill

Then after she kills you
I bet she goes and grills you
She'll pickle all your fingers in a brine
On your flesh for many days she'll dine
And with your meat she'll drink the finest wine
Perhaps this last verse crossed the line

I know that I'm a guy
But I've still got a bit of thigh
And I'll wear a dress if that's what you prefer
We'll be the best of friends there ever were
I need you more than you need her
Oh Mike, I need you more than you need her

[Bartholomew]

I should probably make a different thread.