Death of a Poet

[Hawkman]

On distant shores where authors dare not call,
A questing poet hunted for his chance,
To mount a trochee’s head upon his wall,
Beside the other victims of his lance.
Past herds of grazing metaphors he ran,
While down upon him blazed the mid-day pun,
A critic chirped but he ignored the man,
As in the woods of thought he’d have his fun.
Unequal tracks of iambs he did find,
But their distress was of no use at all.
While similes, like bats, played in his mind,
He hid behind a trope and swallowed gall.
Just about to grant that he was beaten,
By thesaurus he was found, then eaten.

[PrinceMyshkin]

"iam" should be "iamb" but the reference to distress in that line and the play on poetic usage throughout this is gloriously witty!

[Hawkman]

Thanks, My Prince. Glad you enjoyed it and for pointing out the typo, which I have corrected. - H

[AuntShecky]

[QUOTE=Hawkman;866536]Unequal tracks of iamb’s he did find,
QUOTE]

Speaking of typos, drop the apostrophe in iambs.

The piece as a whole is a good one. Did you know that in contemporary prosody there are actually such things as "headless iambs" and "tailless trochees." As a matter of fact, the former occurs in many of the great American songs, such as "The Sunny Side of the Street" by the inimitable
Dorothy Fields.

[Hawkman]

Thanks Auntie, I must be going word blind not to have picked that up. - H

[Bar22do]

Facetious and so pleasant to read! Enjoyed it, thanks!

[blank|verse]

the mid-day pun
Very enjoyable. There's a job waiting for you on the Sun newspaper (British tabloid for those lucky enough not to know).

I think you've proved your mettle with the sonnet. Now try something different - a villanelle why not?

Chirp, chirp!