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#1  Venial Iniquity (Poetry by Abel) Poetry by Abel Index
First Silence Silence is my only friend; With her I can be true In her I can hear my thoughts My secrets, she'd renew Her presence signifies regard Her parting: mystery For her obscurity is scarce As lucidity to me Now tell me, what can I do To remedy my pain? My tears fall to her shoulder Like an arid april rain A fortnight and three days therein Silence; incarnated Set to seek and sought to find The meek and duely fated Serenity is bliss, But this can't be the way Her thoughts and cold expressions Leave me wounded in the fray And so I cling onto this life And cease her words with mine Apologies for simple words Seem worthless at the time Silence speaks in larger terms Than any other can Her being seems more grandiose Than consciousness can span Could I contrive a deeper thought? Or should I bid adieu? For silence, my only friend, Can be no less than true 2 I Am Alpha The early morning sun will rise Brightening the empty skies The veil did singe with burning fire Emitted from the Torrid Lyre Vagrant to the void of space Hadrons rouse an early race Standing now where naught once stood The burning veil becomes my hood Passion breaks the cage of light Forming first the sense of sight Soaring as the falcon flies It breached my hood and tore my eyes Empty thoughts in reckless space Have now become a crowded place Soaked with fury, change is fast Reckoning the forgone past: Meager, basic, blunt and cold The times of new expel the old Burning bodies run the maze Their will becomes the nights and days The dark and seedy mass of land Dust and soil, rock and sand Will seek and trace, pursue and chase The Torrid Lyre's warm embrace And in this heat, the clouds are born The twisting, violent, evil storm As rain drops hurdle to the ground Upon the rocks, their will does sound Shaping all of which they touch The world is shaped within their clutch When all components settle there The lightning rips its course through air The impetus lies in the spark Exciting atoms, protons, quarks The legs of life are flying free Propelling birth across the sea In the light, I fade away My time is gone, I've had my say For Alpha cannot always be The beginning's end has finished me The early morning sun will rise Omega watches with my eyes 3 Moonlight Sonata First Movement Dull light scattered around Filling in the empty night They are helpless Grasped by its intrigue Dancing, they are but dolls It has captured the souls And footing has been lost As they drift in the black night The waltz grows soft But returns to spin them 'round again The bare sustenance They soar to the peak Yet fall again in a bloody rain Puddles of life left on the ground Those who remain wade In their somber ripples The blood creeps up their legs As moonlight begs for another Waltz into the dark sky Its dark voice protrudes from the minds And once again They rise into the night, dolls dancing Second Movement Yet, they forget the blood And leave it lazy in the meadow The soothing tone returns A festive mood replaces despair As they, dolls of the moon, dance On the clouds of night One more round of drinks for all to share And by strings, taught by wind Limbs are wild and fly all about Caught in a trance The dolls are servants of the night They possess this contract without regret For no other being But a crow sweeping from dark hollows Can share the milky black void Caressed by the moon, the streaky crystal blur The cool, jaded pearl that hangs Onto the inky cloak of night Gleefully gobbling frozen stars Which dot the infinite abyss The dolls capture these gems in dance And make them their own Third Movement And yet, they grow mad The cool moon is crazed Dancing turns to aimless willowing atop the clouds As they die, they fall to the ground And splash the remnant blood Kicking and throwing 'round their lust None should sleep Above the clouds, the others soar onward Struggling to reach the dull light yet again Climbing on the pitch of black The dolls are the moon's rays Tears of the moon The lunar rain penetrates the corpses And carries off the blood The river of the night drains into the soil Rich and dark, the mealy things Find humble abode within its confines And praise the night An offering which is expected And 'fore the dawn, the sun's unease No trace of the bloody dolls remains But the fading moon Lethargy The sweeping crow now rests at ease Talons grasp a dithering branch At the peak of a surly winter maple Darkness once reigning over the hollows Is now expelled But the looming black in the crow’s cuspent feathers Still retains the iniquitous essence And not too far into the crow’s eye Sleep the dolls of night The glimmer hanging in the pupil Hangs on: the memory of moonlight 4 My Most Honorable Pledge I stand beside the water's fleeting edge And cast a sullen eye toward the sea To fulfill my most honorable pledge I loved my sunken ship, I can allege And although my gaze fails to let me see I stand beside the water's fleeting edge She's layed herself in depths too deep to dredge Her horrible position causes me To fulfill my most honorable pledge Outcast to land and sea, I find me wedged So when I wish to think of what could be I stand beside the water's fleeting edge To shallow tides, I stare down from the ledge While one more step would set my spirit free To fulfill my most honorable pledge As feathered wings upon my back are fledged And both my ship and I lack misery I stand beside the water's fleeting edge To fulfill my most honorable pledge 5 Note to the Hangmen A storm is brewing in my head My passion overflows The moment ceased and promptly fled As fast as lightning glows The screaming thunder of my lust Words echo down these halls The resonance of dying trust Bids kill me with its calls My heart is not the blackest, nay! Nor is it purest white Nor does it shine the light of day Nor spread the dark of night So why, then, should I pay the price? I show no ill extreme My burning soul shan't tempt the ice To trickle to the stream It shall not turn the tender heat To cold and bitter rain It shall not cause the rye and wheat To purge their precious grain It shall not cause intrepid tides To cease their ebb and flow The forceful wind on which leaves ride Shall not desist its blow It shan't evoke the folk and lore To terminate their rhyme But most of all, I do endure, My sin shall not stop time Your lives will surely ramble on Your tasks shall see their end The will for life shall not be gone If Death, for you shan't send You all will not hear Angels' chants Nor hear the howl of Ghouls Nor will you watch the Demons dance 'Round hordes of fearless fools But I, my friends, if be my fate Will die at hands of man Yet no such angels, on this date Had record of this plan I've not received a word from Death From God, heard no decree But on this day, I lose my breath My life be took from me Today, I find my body numb Still fleeting from my soul My eyes are blind, my tongue be dumb Upon this gallows pole And if I rise to Heaven high Or find my course to Hell Or do remain under this sky Locked in an Earthly cell I surely shall not be perturbed My resolve will not disrate I will not waver to disturb You who sent me to my fate 6 Paranoia Breezes blowing in the night Distant noises, out of sight Darkness blinds all those who see Who sought escape and fought to flee "Through the trees, on past the stream Feeling lonely, it may seem But turn my back to turn my head Deep paranoia in my stead" This soldier's fists both shake and twist The handle of his gun He duly missed and had not wist The presence of the sun Breezes blowing in the night Distant flash, impending fright Darkness mends their evil ways For all who travel, all who stay "Past the stream, on through the trail My lonliness seemed to prevail But in the night's dead pitch of black I was shot down from the back" This soldier's blood mixed with the mud Upon a foreign ground He did not feign the scarlet rain Nor utter any sound Breezes blowing 'fore the noon Distant smoke fades like the moon Darkness decamps with the night The sun shines with grave rays of light "On through the trail, I reached the field But this is where my fate is sealed The bloody stream, flowing red Before I know it, I'll be dead" 7 Ripples Water, water, everywhere Water here, water there Waiting for a drop of air To fall upon the soil bare Bare and barren, without care Sand fills in this empty place Empty piece of empty space This inorganic living race Thriving in an empty case Lined with shining liquid lace Meddle blue and Meddle round Meddle dripping without sound Rippling echoes, newly found: Seamus stoned, Seamus drowned Without a sound, his death unfound You set a stone upon the bank Giving depth, the water's rank Leaping 'long the river's flank The stone you set has gone and sank In the water we both drank I found you there, sitting there I see your face, so pure, so fair I step into this place, your lair I'd give you love, I'd give you care But water, water's everywhere 8 Treachery in Wrath Spinning, spinning, madness winning Psychopathic thoughts beginning Butterflies to catch for pinning Spinning thoughts inside my head To twirl the net and bring it down To trap the beast unto the ground Its screaming terror'd not speak a sound I stick the pin and pin it dead Its writhing, grabbing on the netting The sounds I wouldn't be forgetting The tapping, flapping, clapping, fretting Gradually slowing to a stead A cold and sweating, mad reaction I sense the tingling satisfaction And this is surely just a fraction A fraction of the blood she shed My carriage wheels had quickly turned The case at court was now adjourned So early home I had returned Returning to my home ahead It was a cold and somber morning When I first received the warning A beauty carriage, now adorning, Standing still at my homestead Curious, I stepped out and gazed Its presence there left me amazed Then I saw my dogs were caged Cold and outside, barely fed Gingerly I climbed the stairs And pondered what'd await me there And then, this sight, this dark nightmare My wife and brother in my bed My curiousness then turned to strife My temper flared against my wife I silently retrieved a knife To turn her lusting into dread I chose to kill Paolo first I stabbed his neck and watch it burst His silent death increased my thirst I watched the bastard as he bled Suddenly, my wife awoke The bloody mess caused her to choke Her agony, in me invoked A sense of anger, sorely red She stumbled, falling on the floor And tried to scramble to the door She looked so sad, so low, so poor So shameful as she crawled and fled I pinned her down, still writhing, grabbing, My knife was quickly, sharply dabbing As my hands were cutting, stabbing Stabbing her from overhead When she was still, I calmed at last Yet vengeance soon would have me cast To Caina, treacherous and vast But it was done; Her blood was spread 9 Yellow and I When the Autumn leaves fall upon cold ground The browning grass is adorned with Yellow Jerked and tossed upon stark hills without sound A torpid bow in dearth of a cello Its dancing in the wind would reach a halt Once the vibrant Yellow has become lost But it does not realize the tragic fault Until the bloody Rubicon is crossed The frigid lonely branches wait in pain Catching scornful glances by passing birds Waiting for the return of warm Spring rain I now recall those final caustic words For no message left meaning more profound: "I'll leave you when the Autumn comes around" 10 Bleeding Moon A deep, black current stirring An ocean of blood The moon falls upon it Suspended on venial iniquity Is the cuspent Crescent Blade The dull reflection stares Yearning to be divulged Yet the sinister image repulses And repels the weary Vagrant Does he wish it to be his? Is this the power he sought? He is afraid of his own wrath As he cowers beneath the dark blanket The remnance of light Sleeping, softly, but not rested The illuminated disk spirals to his mind And hovers A virus of his thought Neither living nor dead; light nor dark Neither awake nor asleep Nothing is real With the only exception: His farcical dreams In the lazy water meadow he awakes The sun bright upon his face In the sky, a bird was heard to cry Icy wind of night, this is not your domain The semi-sigmoid crest is engraved in his mind Dull ambient light flows from his brain The Vagrant is again uneased His quest for the night trails through the day An active slumber A passive sleep, he wanders through fiction The hunt for reality is won The dogs are housed, the guns are locked And the fox is left bleeding by the gulch 11 Envy (Part One) I live in the night, yet I yearn for the day The love that I feel is so far away I know she's safe in her silver and lace But I wish her here, for I need her embrace The sweet scent of jasmine flows through the air When my beauty is dancing, bereft of a care Her voice is so soothing, like sand to the feet Her touch, so congenial and full of receipt The sunlight of day bids to damage my eyes The moonlight of night fails to brighten the skies But my beauty is perfect; a luminous love Her light is as brilliant as whitest of doves In Spring we'd stroll through the freshly sprung rye In Fall we'd watch leaves as they fell from the sky The coldness of Winter seeps not through her hold Our love, like the heat of the Summer, is bold In the midst of her presence, time seems to stand still As we rest at the peak of a rolling green hill Each moment is endless as we watch the sky Yet not do we notice that clouds still roll by Off in the distance, a tempest of wind The dark mass would augment as lightning begins The flocculent clouds turn to jagged and torn As the darkness produces a turbulent storm A violent tornado ripped through the green knolls We sat there and witnissed it tear through our souls Broken and shattered, twisted and torn We drifted apart in the eye of the storm Our romance grew dull, as a river runs dry Not so much as a drop to moisten my eye As the love of my life became distant and cold She enjoyed the comfort of another love's hold 12 The Way That I Choose Dedicated to H.S.T. Shuffling down the dim yellow hall The sounds of the city below me do call But I'd rather pretend I don't hear them at all As I slowly slip in through my door I rest my bones on my mahogany chair And light a Corona while casting my stare At the olive green walls through the smoke in the air; How could I ask for more? I see the world changing; it's stronger each day But me, I get weaker; more dead, in a way My breathing is heavy, my bones shake and sway My muscles are shrunken and sore My coughing, it tells me with guttural words That my smoking with cancer is truly absurd But I am no gimp; I'm as free as a bird Taking pills is an unwanted chore These doctors these days trick you into their ruse What's in it for them? They've got nothing to lose I want to go out in the way that I choose And maybe I'll even the score My children, they call but they never stop by To look in my eyes, where the tears have run dry They think that I'm useless, can't wait till I die They think What is he waiting for? 13 Windows Through windows wide I watch your rubber blade Wipe soapy suds from sides of shiny panes. You can't see me; your eyes cannot invade. Through glass so black: yourself and distant planes. The cool, thin air that makes your platform sway Can carry sounds from city streets below, But all should know that I can only pray That windy gusts shan't fall you with their blow. You hover high by sides of tow'ring beasts Whose massive steel can topple dizzy men. By lengths of rope your height can't but increase And makes the steady foot a man's best friend. And at your home, as night divides the day, You wish it were in blue skies that you lay. 14 Sights in Stoic Eyes Thoughts are fading out like footsteps stamped into the muddy earth They run the tide of sullen rivers flowing past the sinking sun Wafts of clouds in unison protect the cool and jaded moon From being sucked into the darkness pouring in my stoic eyes Tears of rock are falling through the silky woven summer frock Slashing time's unbounded fabric, opening my wild mind Butterfly, keep falling to the dusty summit of the hill That ripples through my arteries like skipping stones across the seas Mystery, with trembling breath, admits the clear incessant wings That beat with caustic buoyancy rage listlessly in lazy death Caught in treads of sedimentary mammoth gods that wheel themselves To milling pulps of soporific paths to sundry epitaphs Singing suns are scorching with unbated swords that thrust themselves Through reeds and melancholy lyres burning with the fleeting fires Stigmas, black to blue and white, vociferous in shallow night Cry on and on, anon 15 L'Oiseau Jaune (The Yellow Bird) Canto I: Exposition A dampened quill and wrist unstill Dare gallop 'cross the page Scribbled lines in black do shine With much and fervent rage And without fail, they tell their tale: A passage tried and true Lasting years, through hopes and fears On page of yellow hue Epic tales and loss at sea Are listed in its text The hand that writ this hallowed script Can be no less than hexed It begged, it sailed, it led a crowd, It took a lady’s life It stole, it smote, and always wrote In volumes more than rife He took this hand to unknown land To carve a profound path He set the sail for times to come Yet tore himself in half He lay awake in warm Toulon In misty-morning May The yellow birds in shrillest words Alert him to the day For too long days and longer nights He’s waited for the word The morrow here will mark the first Of correspondence heard Bonaparte has rallied here To Toulon’s bustling bay Three-fourths a score of battleships To Egypt make their way Before the high and mighty men Joined with the water’s ebb A note was slipped beneath the door Assigned to M. Lefèbvre Finally, a true decree Has blest his merry course Soon, eagerly, he’ll set to sea Lost time his one remorse Canto II: Aleron Out to sea are thirty-three That with me sail the tides With these men, I trust my life They follow where I guide And so we’re gone from warm Toulon Just days from the decree Noble men off far ahead And me with bourgeoisie Bonaparte has aimed his fleet To Egypt’s sandy shores Through pirate gangs and ill intent His roaring cannons tore We follow in this taintless route As far as we can trail But soon we’ll turn half-way to stern; To Gibraltar we shall sail Days upon the Aleron Are short but riveting My men maintain their cheery air And working still, they sing No more of cloudy restlessness No more of shady days The blazing sun and windy waves Have chased off my malaise We pull our sheets and head from east To curve around southwest Past Ibiza, whose northern shore Our Aleron caressed The choppy sea grows thinner And our nerves become unstill The pirates of the Barbary Coast Could leap in for the kill And now, a sign above the line Where water meets the sky A tow’ring plume of certain doom Is growing ever high The heavens choke with blackest smoke As fires burn a boat The raw, impending fear of Death Is clawing at my throat Canto III: Skull and Bones ‘Tis hours later and we’re chased Beneath the star-dogged moon We tried to break away to north But broke away too soon Unknown, we tailed the pirate ship Then saw the far black dot The crow’s nest signaled skull and bones; We held onto our knot We much too late had turned around My Aleron spun slow Sheets so white in plain of sight Had sold us to our foe Our heaviest of itemry Into the sea we cast Rusty tools and iron spools: Submerged, and sinking fast Yet still we could not make a pace To lose the rotten crew; On our backs, they sailed our tracks And split our wake in two And so the misty moon is here And watches like a ghoul As we divorce our southern course For Pillars of Hercule The flick’ring light behind us Like a glimmer in an eye Stares and preys upon us In cover of black dye It grows and throws upon our ship A light of fear and blood It digs into our drowsy eyes With sharpness of a spud We hold on to our frantic pace Till night invites the day When to our right, in bright sunlight, An ally heads our way With Godly sound the cannons pound The scoundrels far in back Our brothers there in ship so fair Repelled the foul attack Canto IV: Gibraltar In safer seas, our Aleron Met with Le Taureau Bleu We buy and sell and trade our stock And praise and thank the crew For safety’s sake, along we take Two cannons of our own We’ll stand a better chance against The skull and crosséd bones On we sail, on more and more On through the placid day No longer faced with poor intent We make our merry way Finally, from the vociferous chum Upon the tall crow’s nest “Land ho! Land ho!” Enthused, we know Gibraltar’s over the crests I decide to park (good-will flag on ark) At the British colonial base With cannons in stow, civilians are we Attacking is surely bad taste Just then, as I stood face-front on the deck, A shrill squawking was cast To the back I turned, and quickly discerned A yellow bird up on a mast How dare it perch there! I’d kill it, I swear But I’d fire not a gun Britons who spy me would surely deny me Fair entrance, if that’s what I’d done Instead I’ll sit tight; my crew is all right They don’t mind the bird at all I’ll listen and bear it, and try to forget That the bird is the cause of my fall Closer we draw to Gibraltar’s port The Britons are within clear view With a wave of a flag, they accept us in But my anger cannot be subdued I ready my gun; to the bird I have spun And fire my shots to the air The Britons, upset, rush onboard and get Me constrained; and ensued despair Canto V: The Crimson Owl Silver chains kept me detained As questioning carried on Was I a spy for whom I ally? Or was I simply a con? I kept face as the questioner paced And the brute slapped me around Lastly, I smiled, as after a while They had no evidence found With regret, they set me free Determining I was no harm But seconds before I went through the door A fellow rushed in with alarm Cannons, found inside my ship As rifles point at me Again, they had me cuffed and chained And threatened hostilely “Smuggling arms to enemy ships” Was written in their book Chained and gagged and stowed was I No better than a crook Between the pillars I was passed But not as I had hoped Both my arm and legs were bound My fragile neck was choked In the bowels of The Crimson Owl I slept in dark distress No other day, with truth I say, Had I known such duress The days had passed and I’d amassed A hunger, fierce and true All my thought was set aside To find something to chew When suddenly, the shrillest sound Came flying from afar A cannon shot had hit its mark The mainmast it would mar Sounds of death came all around And finally toward me My blind removed, I held in view The pirates of this sea Canto VI: Captain Riceau I stepped aboard by point of sword And left the burning Owl “Bienvenue à Le Chat Fou” Said a fellow through his scowl But when I talked, they stopped and gawked Surprised at me they were A fellow French, I was embraced; The Crazy Cat could purr They brought me on, my captors gone, And took me as their own And for the time, I went along And made this Cat my home I was kept live, and was used for My knowledge of the sea For vengeance ‘gainst the Britons I complied happily For months - perhaps three seasons passed I rode upon this ship Captain Riceau valued me He named me second skip For cause unknown, we crossed the sea Old Captain held his tongue He would not tell us why we trekked And chased the setting sun He brought us ‘round the chilly tip Of Chile’s southern shore No reason from his crazy lips Though long did we implore Then at last, the day had passed When Riceau caught a cold His eyes were red, his limbs were dead His breathing: hoarse and old I became the skipper then And buried him at sea We cut up north to flee the cold But at a loss were we Confused and crazy we’d become Just like the Cat, rode we I thought to keep Old Captain’s path And that meant mutiny Canto VII: Mutiny Two days it’d take for them to make The foul and bitter plan That I’d be through with Le Chat Fou And they’d return to Cannes I lay asleep, in sleep so deep Dreaming of Calais The maiden fair with yellow hair Who one day would betray In this dream, I heard her scream And went to touch her cheek But standing as a statue does Her gaze was still and bleak They dragged me back into this world Then dragged me off the port My lungs too filled with shockéd air To object to this tort They threw my pants and diary, And sandals, as they laughed For shoes could serve no purpose On the ocean’s liquid draft The flick’ring light before me Like a glimmer in an eye Stares but grows more distant And retreats into black dye An injury had placed me in A lesser swimming league Then again, it’d only serve To cause me great fatigue Three days, I had rode the tide Of the western ocean’s waves No shark, no squid, no slimy thing For my flesh did crave The crests came up like daggers And fell like hulking trees I prayed to God almighty I survive the vicious seas Finally, I set my stare Upon the northwest sky Far away, but clear as day: An object in my eye Canto VIII: Abyss Although I swam me ‘cross the sea As fast as my arm can Dry throat and sun win victory O’er me: a fainted man Trapped in darkness once again I spy my fair Calais Screaming, shrill in bleakness then With not a word to say Over me her head hangs low Her arm is slightly raised Blood drips off her elbow Her expression leaves me dazed She’s gone; the air is hard to breathe The wind is biting cold A canopy of restless leaves Is stirring uncontrolled Lost inside this world of wood I struggle to emerge Feels like years have I withstood While searching for the verge No chirpings from my yellow bird No noises all around Not a sound is to be heard But footsteps at the ground No rodents gnawing at the bark No insects in the trees Alone I sleep in brush so dark With nobody but me In the drying mud I'm laid Despondent of my fate Looking through the verdant shade The sun does penetrate Streaming down, the light is rich Bespeckled on the floor Dancing 'round without a hitch Its presence I implore I call upon the pouring light To lift me from this hell To nullify the chilly blight Incite the warmth to swell Canto IX: Land Forgets Itself The burning light lends me its faith Yet suddenly absconds The dulling light projects a wraith: My soul from the Beyond The day retreats and turns to night The moon in place of sun Mute, and without touch or sight I desperately run Fleeing from my fading soul Myself, I do berate For no such being should extol Escaping from my fate Luscious leaves all turn to brown They wither and fall fast Suddenly, upon the ground A dune of sand's amassed Crawling on the desert floor And shaking from the cold I hate and bitterly abhor The night's begrudging hold In the distance, at the line The land forgets itself The beaming rays of light do shine And warmth indeed does swell Basking in the drenching sun My coldness is expelled Frigidity that night had won Has fully been repelled In the sands, I've laid to rest To steal the heat of day Yet no sooner had the sun caressed Than sourly betray Melted on the scorching sands My body burned and scarred I cannot lift my torrid hand My feet have both been charred The burning heat has ripped my lust For life and will to live My last resolve is brutely thrust Through Death's unyielding sieve Canto X: L'Oiseau Jaune I coughed and spat the water that I swallowed with my snores Upon the sand my hand did land; I’d made my way to shore The beach was bright with fiery light My skin was hot and red I tried to get out of my head Those visions that I dread A novelist I once had been Writing was my joy With pen in hand, I could withstand Each plot set to destroy Yet Calais came and stole my heart But also my free time We wed and had a baby boy Our life was too sublime I raised my pen to write again To feed the family right I spent my days filling the page And toiled all the night When finally, she’d lost her mind She needed to be loved I tried to calm her shrill attacks With no help from Above My raging wife had grabbed a knife And stabbed my writing hand Yet somehow I had speared her eye I couldn’t understand At the elbow, I was chopped And no more could I write The widespread fact I’d killed my mate Had augmented my plight I beached onto an island; This was no Chilean land I walked around the grainy ground And found nothing but sand But soon a rescue ship had come I was not too long gone I read the name upon the port; It was L'Oiseau Jaune 16 Last Silence Silence is my widowed wife With her I leave my love In her I can free and fly My secrets; like a dove Her presence is a bitter fire Her parting burns and chars For her obscurity remains As lucid, painless scars Now tell me, is there a cure To remedy her scorn? My tears fall to a barren soil Like a shoe too often worn A fortnight and my soul is lost Silence speaks for me Set to seek, to find the weak: The meek and stuck at sea Serenity sings a shallow tune, But this can't quell my fear Her thoughts and bitter offense Leave me wounded; death so near And so I cling into her arms And cease her fiery pain Apologies for burning blood Seem worthless in the rain Silence speaks more hateful words Than any man can bear Her being seems more insolvent Than consciousness can spare Could I contrive what melts her soul, Or should I leave depraved? For silence, my widowed wife, Can be no more than saved Last edited by Honest Abel; 04-08-2007 at 02:50 PM. |
04-07-2007, 06:02 PM
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 | I looked at a couple of pieces so far, and I think you have talent. I like a lot of your vocabulary, and I'm always a sucker for alliteration. However, some of the rhymes sound forced (which, admittedly, is difficult to avoid) and some of the language sounds a little archaic ("thou art" in place of "you are," that kind of stuff), but that's just a stylistic gripe. I like that you wrote for all 3 movements of the sonata, and I think you captured a lot of the emotion of each although the overall effect (in my opinion) is that the association of each movement to the whole was somewhat forced. You know that "moonlight sonata" was not Beethoven's title? Anyway, I'll try to read more, and keep up the good work. |
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04-08-2007, 08:44 AM
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| Banned | Thanks for the feedback. I oftentimes write in archaic dialects to place my poem historically. We have a choice to write poems in any language; I don't see why I should be restricted to only modern English. Also, I tend to notice that people's opinion of whether rhyme sounds forced or not depends on how much experience they have with rhyming poetry, or whether they actually prefer to use it or not. I've had peers and professors comment in workshop that my rhymes don't seem forced, so I think it just depends on personal perspective. For "Moonlight Sonata," I wrote it all during my first listen to the music. Thanks for the feedback. Here's another: 17 Logos 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. |
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04-08-2007, 02:49 PM
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