A glance is all it takes to make my mind
Up. You’re the milk in my black coffee, you
Can always right a wrong. You’re just that kind
Of person. Lust is far too guilty to
Describe such fragile innocence. My soul
Is pining for a mate, and those are rare.
Such bliss would make my fractured heart a whole.
Cocooned within my chest would lie a lair
For me and you, protected by our love
For one another. Foes would not intrude
Past these wrought walls. Left scarred, from all above,
From their curse-riddled outbursts, all are lewd,
Some, rude. Yet love persists, and soon past foes
Are tossed aside, now overcome through prose.
Hey Sarah,
ReplyDeleteCheers for the comment, it's obvious that would of took a hellish amount of time to write.
I can see what you mean by the archaic language usage(I just can't pry thyself off using it!). I guess it wouldn't be that hard, and would put that finishing touch on my work.
Oh yeah and by the way, I'll accept recomendation of Forster. Now all that's left is to find those running shoes, I'm sure I left them somewhere...
Thanks,
Carlsberger.
Hi Carlsberger,
ReplyDeleteI think it's productive, and hopefully not confusing, to have moderators with different tastes. I revere Joyce and ain't a real fan of Forster. Both writers have survived a century or so; both are important - it's a matter literary taste which, of course, is subjective.
I'm mainly saying this because this is a very accessible, readable poem. The assignment was to address a specific emotion to an audience and you've done this well. However, apart from (oh, I'm a bit contrary today)"curse-riddled outburts"; "these wrought walls"; and "lie a lair" which I underlined and starred on the first reading; I was disappointed that you didn't make me bend my brain as much I had to, (and really wanted to) in your previous work.
You're a young and precocious poet. Please trust in the voice you have at the moment. Write what you feel is right. As Sarah indicates, diamonds in museum cases may be "perfect"; but they ain't gonna tell you much.
pax
Thanks Pax,
ReplyDeleteI have to admit. I kinda felt empty whilst writing this piece, I don't know what it was, I guess it coulda been the fact that my eargerness for sonnet has, frankly, vanished. The fact that I'd lost all the 'original' emotions that exist left me stumped. I sadly had turned to a confused mindset on what I was actually writing about in the end...
thanks,
carlsbeger.
Hey Carlsberger,
ReplyDeleteWow - this is impressive. You've written a flowing, deft poem with only the tiniest of changes needed to make it technically perfect. Sarah's flagged up the emphasis on "up", which is not because of the iambic pentameter but because of its placement at the beginning of the line - this position will necessarily make the word a bit more "showy".
As you're so comfortable with the form, I think it would have been exciting to see something a little more oblique in terms of subject matter; as pax says, you are a very promising poet and it would have been nice to see some really fresh, arresting similes and metaphors.
I look forward to your next piece.
Penny
Firstly, your rhyme is strong and convincing, but you could explore the potential of soft as well as hard rhyme (see shiningstar’s and eternity.forever’s attempts).
ReplyDeleteYour iambic pentameter seems flawless to me, which is no small achievement for anyone, let alone a GCSE student! Well done!
You have some very effective caesura, although I am not sure all your enjambement works completely. For example, the single “Up” at the start of Line 2 seems awkward, and “to” is a rather weak end syllable in Line 4.
That said, there are some amazing lines here, such as the brilliant “Such bliss would make my fractured heart a whole.”
You also work very well with internal rhyme and alliteration, both of which you use to very good effect indeed. Well done!
Some ambiguities (although they may just expose my lesser intelligence!):
For someone to be the milk in your black coffee could imply that you prefer it black and they are contaminating it, even though the second half of that sentence clarifies that.
Not sure about the whole “lair” image, which, for me, sounds far too sinister and predatory to be appropriate for your lovers’ hideout (even if the alliteration it provided was great!), and also doesn’t fit with the armory suggested by “wrought”.
The sentence beginning “Left scarred…” just needs explaining by your bright young mind to my old decrepit one. Would you mind?
Lastly, not sure why the past foes are overcome through “prose”: help me out there?
All that aside, this is, as always, assured, confident, intelligent and wonderfully idiosyncratic work, and it was a joy to read. Thank you!