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A new poem :) [Jan. 6th, 2008|06:50 pm]
[Creative Writing, Photography and Artwork]

i_n_s_p_i_r_e

[an_endless_sky]
[Tags|]
[Mood |contemplativecontemplative]
[Music |Pinball Wizard, Big Red style.]

As far as poetry goes, it hits me in waves, rather like some sort of strange stomach bug. With those, you know you're going to throw up. You can feel it coming, and hopefully you make it to an appropriate vomit-receptical in time. Or you just blow chunks all over the place because you're lazy and/or don't care (that's how I feel, particularly in school haha). For me, poetry is a brain bug and if I don't make it to a pen and paper in time I just start spewwing verse, and hopefully I remember parts of it to come back to when it hits me again. This little bit of smut has been waiting a long time for me, but I'm finally satisfied. It's been about a year since I started, and it took a week of noodling to finish it.

Night
It’s born a gentle whisper
On the winglets of the night
Then upsurges to a howl
As the day’s last rays take flight.

Sunset bathes the sky in gold
A hue so pure and bright
Yet mere color cannot challenge
The upbraiding army’s might.

As ranks of darkness circle round
And night entrenched stirs
A voice of nightmare lashes out
Reality is blurred.

Senses strain to comprehend
Surroundings cloaked in black
Suspicion sharpens wary eyes 
On guard for night’s attack

When dusk falls at the end of day
To cast life in despair
We wait in silence knowing
That the sun still shines, somewhere.

And soon enough will twilight come
To wrench cruel night’s fell reign
Pale dawn then pinks the heavens
Which full day alights in flame. 

Type your cut contents here.

A note on the schemes and mechanics of my writing:

 

7 It’s born a gentle whisper

7 On the winglets of the night

7 Then upsurges to a howl

7 As the day’s last rays take flight.

 

7 Sunset bathes the sky in gold

6 A hue so pure and bright

8 Yet mere color cannot challenge

7 The upbraiding army’s might.

 

8 As ranks of darkness circle round

6 And night entrenched stirs

8 A voice of nightmare lashes out

6 Reality is blurred.

 

7 Senses strain to comprehend

6 Surroundings cloaked in black

8 Suspicion sharpens wary eyes
6 On guard for night's attack.

 

8 When dusk falls at the end of day

6 To cast life in despair

7 We wait in silence knowing

7 That the sun still shines, somewhere.

 

8 And soon enough will twilight come

6 To wrench cruel night’s fell reign

7 Pale dawn then pinks the heavens

7 Which full day alights in flame.

 

As you can see I’ve labeled the syllables out, and with the exception of the fourth, all the verses have 28.  No line exceeds eight syllables, nor do any have fewer than six.  I have what one of my English teachers called ‘a head for meter’ although since I cannot make iambic pentameter work, I disagree.  However, the syllabic distributions noted above occurred by chance rather than through any effort of my own.  I’m far too lazy to care about such things, thus why I never bothered to fix that little blip in the fourth stanza.  This departure form my favorite couplet scheme occurred only because the lines were far too long, and cutting lines in half can sometimes allow greater freedom of the mind.  I have theorized after some thought that the lines of six and eight are always adjacent because an abnormally long line followed by a short line flows more easily.  If you read through this, you deserve applause or something.  Hope you enjoyed it!! (as in the poem, not the unnecessary commentary)
 
Oh, in case anyone cares, when I write poetry I listen to purely instrumental music because anything with words distracts me.  Hence the reference to Cornell's marching band, which plays songs I like, but obviously minus the words :)
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Comments:
[User Picture]From: an_endless_sky
2008-01-07 09:18 pm (UTC)
Thanks, I'll look into it. BTW I ADOOORE your spanish vid. It is teh luffliness.
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