All That Was There

[MorpheusSandman]

(Been gone for a while; I miss reading everyone's poems in my absence, but life gets busy and all that.)

In the wizened winter of death and December
The desolate angels dance to remember
The withering world in the glass ponds and rivers
The aged paper hands of sinewy silver
And all that was there when all that was then

The spirits that hunt with the wolves in the meadows
Like billowing tendrils of night-stalking shadows
They reach out to touch the world that’s asleep
The world when it wakes will think it a dream
When all that was there was all that was then

The blackening crows that call for the fleet
Of hellhounds on trails of blood dripping meat
We’ll see the apocalypse rise in their eyes
It will last for a time, then fade out and die
And all that was there will be all that again

Give a sin to the sinners before it’s too late
A hand to the helpless locked in the gates
This land is a prison and they’ve got the key
They keep it chained up and just out of reach
All that was there must be all ours again

We’ll ride the rebellion on reddening tides
On blistering oceans of concrete and lies
That truth left illusions like ghosts that were fleeing
Over shade-covered conscious that questioned its being
And all that was there will be coming again

The ruin in the wake of this nightmarish hell
Had left and done gone down our own wishing well
The puddles that gather 'round pennies for thoughts
Will linger no longer than the freedom we bought
Will all that was there ever be there again?

I saw her in mist of the morning’s sunrise
As adorned glittered dew did drip with surmise
Like a vapor on winds the scene few away
And we were left like the infant on the first Christmas Day
And the loneliness left was all that was there

[MorpheusSandman]

I changed the ending; no comments? Hmmmm, rather disappointing since I actually worked a while on this one...

[Bar22do]

(Been gone for a while; I miss reading everyone's poems in my absence, but life gets busy and all that.)

In the wizened winter of death and December
The desolate angels dance to remember
The withering world in the glass ponds and rivers
The aged paper hands of sinewy silver
And all that was there when all that was then

The spirits that hunt with the wolves in the meadows
Like billowing tendrils of night-stalking shadows
They reach out to touch the world that’s asleep
The world when it wakes will think it a dream
When all that was there was all that was then

The blackening crows that call for the fleet
Of hellhounds on trails of blood dripping meat
We’ll see the apocalypse rise in their eyes
It will last for a time, then fade out and die
And all that was there will be all that again

Give a sin to the sinners before it’s too late
A hand to the helpless locked in the gates
This land is a prison and they’ve got the key
They keep it chained up and just out of reach
All that was there must be all ours again

We’ll ride the rebellion on reddening tides
On blistering oceans of concrete and lies
That truth left illusions like ghosts that were fleeing
Over shade-covered conscious that questioned its being
And all that was there will be coming again

The ruin in the wake of this nightmarish hell
Had left and done gone down our own wishing well
The puddles that gather 'round pennies for thoughts
Will linger no longer than the freedom we bought
Will all that was there ever be there again?

I saw her in mist of the morning’s sunrise
As adorned glittered dew did drip with surmise
Like a vapor on winds the scene few away
And we were left like the infant on the first Christmas Day
And the loneliness left was all that was there

I can imagine how painful it feels when one writes a poem, works hard on it, loves it because one knows it is good, and the poem, due to some unknown, mean (Murphy?) laws or reasons, is not read or discussed enough... And yours here unveils (and confirms!) your admirable lyrical and descriptive power that hits! I am not a great critic, but read your winter and read again, its withering world and its question of being --- and I hope now everyone else around can finally read and love it as well - for it is excellent and so well crafted!
My apology, Morpheus, for having remarked it only now.
And so many thanks, not only for this poem and others by you, but also for your steady valuable contribution as a critic, when you unfailingly read and comment our poems... Love - Bar

[Buh4Bee]

I still need to reread the poem, but the ending reminds me a bit if the love story between Orpheus and Eurydice. It always brings a tear to my eye. I saw the opera last year and sobbed my way through it.

[Susu J]

This is a beautifully written poem, you obviously can write very well rhythmical poetry. Well done!

[PrinceMyshkin]

Sorry that my comment (and that of others) have been slow to come, especially as there is so much to praise in this poem, which to me above all was like someone getting drunk on the music of this poem, inviting me to get drunk along with him.

I particularly loved the recurrence and then the increasingly dramatic changes to:

And all that was there when all that was then

but thought you surely had lost it with this line:

The ruin in the wake of this nightmarish hell
Had left and done gone down our own wishing wel

"done gone," pard? Yo sholly mus be kidding!

[tailor STATELY]

Lost on my radar too.

Beautiful poem that begs the reader to ask the poet for even more.

[Bar22do]

Lost on my radar too.

Beautiful poem that begs the reader to ask the poet for even more.

... that begs the reader to ask the poet for more!

[blank|verse]

Not much I can add, but it's a good effort to write in ternary feet - dactylic tetrameter I presume, but there are lots of extra-metrical stresses at the start and end of lines, so I'm not entirely sure.

The subject isn't to my personal taste, but that aside, I thought this line (which is pretty key to the whole poem):

And all that was there when all that was then

is a bit of a mouthful and slows the reader down after the poem ticks along quite speedily on the rhythm of the ternary feet. And the other examples stated when the metre goes awry do stick out.

But it also seems to have been well received and is a form you should clearly revisit...

[PrinceMyshkin]

I'm responding again only to take the strongest issue with:

And all that was there when all that was then

is a bit of a mouthful and slows the reader down after the poem ticks along quite speedily on the rhythm of the ternary feet.

to my mind (not being familiar with "ternary feet"). there is majesty in that line! In part because it's an example of saying much in the very minimum of words. If I might paraphrase some familiar lines:

Economy is grace, grace economy - that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know

[PrinceMyshkin]

I'm bumping this in the hope that the poem will get the additional responses it deserves.

[MorpheusSandman]

A very special thanks to Bar22do for bumping this thread and for your lovely words that may flatter me a bit too much (me thinks) but I'll modestly accept the praise. Very much thanks.

Thanks to jersea, Susu, and Tailor for their comments.

A special thanks to Prince whose thoughts I always love reading as they tend to be as poetic as any poetry I can write myself! As for this:

[I] thought you surely had lost it with this line ... "done gone," pard? Yo sholly mus be kidding!

I know you had no way of knowing but that was actually an ode to my great grandmother who used to use that line all the time. "They done gone", "well, she done gone", and since she always used it in the immediately past tense (to indicate someone had recently left) I liked the conflict between that usual immediacy VS the more permanent expression I had in mind here. Plus I love the phonetics of "done gone down".

As always, thanks to Blnk Vrz who's an even better poetry critic than myself. To address your comments:

Not much I can add, but it's a good effort to write in ternary feet - dactylic tetrameter I presume, but there are lots of extra-metrical stresses at the start and end of lines, so I'm not entirely sure.

It's really inspired by Homeric verse where spondees can substitute for dactyls. I've found in English that dactyls, anapests and spondees all have a similar rhythmic "value" in term of stresses so I tend to call this varied Tetrameter even though it's somewhat Homeric in inspiration. I've also found you can even throw in iambs and trochees in and get away with it rhythmically. I think the "form" (if I can call it that) really offers a lot of possibilities and variations metrically while still retaining the same feel rhythmically. The extra beats are almost always in the form of spondees taking the place of dactyls or anapests; for example:

The withering world in the glass ponds and rivers
The aged paper hands of sinewy silver

Scans: -/--/--//-/- || -//-/-/--/-

Despite the variations I feel the that it all remains "on beat" and rhythmically pleasing even though the stresses are coming in different places. I stretch this occasionally an intentionally stretch it to its breaking point for the penultimate line for effect.

I thought this line (which is pretty key to the whole poem): is a bit of a mouthful and slows the reader down after the poem ticks along quite speedily on the rhythm of the ternary feet.

That was also intentional. I posted another poem even more loosely in this style called "Dementia Couplets" (you can read it here) that I almost composed completely improvisationally but I found the problem was that the constant tetrameter lines just endlessly ran on into the next no matter how I tried to break the stanzas up. So when I came up with that repeating line for this piece I thought I had solved the problem in how it provides a "pause". Plus I tried to make the variations relevant to the idea being expressed in any given stanza. So if it does make it pause that's by intent. Whether it works or not is up to each individual reader (I thought it did, though I'm not quite sure I'm happy with the effect I was able to achieve with the repetition).

[PrinceMyshkin]

As always, thanks to Blnk Vrz who's an even better poetry critic than myself. To address your comments:

It's really inspired by Homeric verse where spondees can substitute for dactyls. I've found in English that dactyls, anapests and spondees all have a similar rhythmic "value" in term of stresses so I tend to call this varied Tetrameter even though it's somewhat Homeric in inspiration. I've also found you can even throw in iambs and trochees in and get away with it rhythmically. I think the "form" (if I can call it that) really offers a lot of possibilities and variations metrically while still retaining the same feel rhythmically. The extra beats are almost always in the form of spondees taking the place of dactyls or anapests; for example:

The withering world in the glass ponds and rivers
The aged paper hands of sinewy silver

Scans: -/--/--//-/- || -//-/-/--/-

Despite the variations I feel the that it all remains "on beat" and rhythmically pleasing even though the stresses are coming in different places. I stretch this occasionally an intentionally stretch it to its breaking point for the penultimate line for effect.


That was also intentional. I posted another poem even more loosely in this style called "Dementia Couplets" (you can read it here) that I almost composed completely improvisationally but I found the problem was that the constant tetrameter lines just endlessly ran on into the next no matter how I tried to break the stanzas up. So when I came up with that repeating line for this piece I thought I had solved the problem in how it provides a "pause". Plus I tried to make the variations relevant to the idea being expressed in any given stanza. So if it does make it pause that's by intent. Whether it works or not is up to each individual reader (I thought it did, though I'm not quite sure I'm happy with the effect I was able to achieve with the repetition).

Without being competent to add a word re either side of this aesthetic debate I want to weigh in with my gratitude at being able to read such a sophisticated, well-informed discussion