Vendetta

[Hawkman]

Within the finite brightness of a bar of light
trapped eyes gaze upon a darkness
given life by flickering candle flame.

Tempered, polished, sharp -
whispering, the blade is drawn
and must taste blood before it sleeps.

Rolling, white, sightless,
a head rocks to stillness
in a slick congealing pool.

A flick dislodges ruby beads
and with its hunger slaked,
the steel’s light is quenched.

A measured tread retreats.
The sigh of fleeting night’s last breath,
witnessing collection of a debt.

[aliengirl]

Hi Hawk,
Hope you are doing fine. How nice it is to log in here and stumble upon a fine poem! The last time I logged here for a short time I read one of your exquisite poems (the title of which I can't recall right now) and now this one seems to beckon me to the beautiful world of poetry after an absence of almost a month.Though the theme is rather morbid the poem is a delight to read. The imagery is so vivid and intense from the very first line. I specially like this stanza-

"A flick dislodges ruby beads
and with its hunger slaked,
the steel’s light is quenched."

[Hawkman]

Hi Ripley, thanks for stopping by and enjoying my dark fantasy :)

Live and be well - H

[Haunted]

Very atmospheric and the language is just right for this medieval act of vengeance. This line is superb: the blade is drawn / and must taste blood before it sleeps. However the first line tripped me with the double of's, meshing too many layers together. Since you mentioned "light" in S4, I would abbreviate it to this: "Within the finite bar of brightness". You get to keep the alliteration and Haunted gets to keep her footing. After all beheadings always make her all wobbly and woozy.

[Hawkman]

Hi Haunted, gosh I really must be ill. I completely overlooked a missing indefinite article in the first line. I just read it as being there, hi ho. Must be dementia.

I'm not too sure why you should trip on that first line though, it's gramtically sound and reads ok to me, although I grant that your version would work. However, it doesn't quite convey the picture I was going for. On it's own, S1 could be interpreted as just a pair of eyes highlighted in the shadows by a bar of light falling upon them. By reusing light it ties the bar of brighteness to the partially drawn sword blade and reinforces the image of the killer's eyes reflected in it. I agree it's good practice to try to avoid unnecessary repetition, but in this case I think it justified.

Sorry if the beheading left you feeling queezy - lol. Anyway, thanks for reading and for sharing your thoughts.

Live and be well - H

[Haunted]

Please don't mind me, my rewrite of the first line is not to be taken seriously. It's too lame for your style but just an example of a shorter line, that's all. I love the whole scenario set up the way you described in S1. Given that beheading seems the choice execution of the day, I shall remember never to cross the Hawk :D

[Delta40]

There is a chilling theme weaved in every line here Hawk.

[Hawkman]

Not to worry, Haunted. It's not as if I'm in the habit of collecting heads, not even pretty ones - lol

Thanks for reading Delta :)

Live and be well - H

[blank|verse]

Yes, I too want to tinker with that opening line. The first few words bounce along iambically and suggests a clean line of IP like 'Within the finite brightness of the light' (and listen to all that assonance! - perhaps too much?); and there are lots of '-ss' words throughout the poem, which I felt could be teased out a bit more. But still, despite the subject not really being to my taste, it's a nicely-detailed piece that sounds like it could have been an incident for Holmes and Watson to investigate.

[Hawkman]

Hmmm, 'The Mystery of the Midnight Headsman' perhaps?

"Come, Watson, the game's afoot!"

"That'll be because he dosent have a head for heights!"

"Accurate, but in bad taste Watson."

"Sorry Holmes"

"From the angle of the cut and the blood spatter, I determine that the attacker was left handed, four feet six inches tall, had a lisp and is female."

"But Holmes, The victim is five feet nine, or would be with his head, and was obviously struck from slightly above. How could his assailant have been only four feet six?"

"If you observe there is a box, just here, bearing the impression of ladies footwear, size four. It is exactly eighteen inches high. A matter of simple arithmatic. Elementary my dear Watson."

"What about the lisp?"

Forget the lisp Watson, I need a fix. To Baker Street - Taxi!"

Thanks for reading b/v :) Live and be well - H