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First attempt in Alliteration...melancholy melodies...
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First attempt in Alliteration...melancholy melodies... |
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Sudhir Iyer Member Ascendant
since 2000-04-26
Posts 6943Mumbai, India : now in Belgium 
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melancholy melodies strike stirring strains, myriad miserable mystics survive sublimed sustenance. poignantly pondering yesterday's yellow yearn, pressured present preys yielding yin-yang's yeast! tentative tentacles obscuring obtused, obsolete; twisted twaddle tweaking ominously, omitting omen. blisters bleed crushing crowded creeps beast begins beating, claws clamouring closet my present time breathes me pungent, tired breaths, sorrowful yearnings often cry - shadows yell on curiously ----- This might be terrible, but hey, it is my first attempt... If this is horrible, someone give me a good example in alliteration, please... ------ Thanks for your time... |
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Romy Senior Member
since 2000-05-28
Posts 1170Plantation, Florida |
Hi Sudhir, I liked your poem, especially the way you used two different consonant sounds in each stanza! I also noticed that you used some repetition too! I'm not sure what you were saying, but it sounds good! [This message has been edited by Debbie (edited 09-07-2000).] |
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Sudhir Iyer Member Ascendant
since 2000-04-26
Posts 6943Mumbai, India : now in Belgium |
Hey Debbie, Thanks... a great deal for coming by... I used (tried to  , atleast) the consonant sounds in repetition to pass as alliteration.but you are bang on target when you said 'not sure about what it means"... The flow and the meaning was a bit lost perhaps in the experimentation... If seen closely, the last stanza is made up of words starting with the letters that started the alternate lines in the first four... Overall, I was trying to show the craziness in melancholy and the sorrow associated... summarising it in the last stanza... I don't seem to have succeeded very well, I am afraid... regards, sudhir. P.S. still waiting for the others to come by ...  |
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Marge Tindal 
since 1999-11-06
Posts 42384Florida's Foreverly Shores |
Hello, friend~ I understood where you were going - and in this verse - my present time breathes me pungent, tired breaths, sorrowful yearnings often cry - shadows yell on curiously you reached the destination. Decent first attempt. Knowing you ... you'll perfect the form !  Love ya' ~*Marge*~ ~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~ noles1@totcon.com |
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Sudhir Iyer Member Ascendant
since 2000-04-26
Posts 6943Mumbai, India : now in Belgium |
Thank you so much Marge... regards, sudhir |
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Severn Member Rara Avis
since 1999-07-17
Posts 7704 |
Suddy. Too much. That is my conclusion my friend... A poem consisting of alliteration does not need its body to solely consist of it, in my opinion. So - I feel that, while this has its moments, it is confused with so much alliteration it adopts a panicky feel... It just doesn't make for an easy read. If one were to compare it to art - it resembles an early Picasso - harsh on the eye...lol. I think the best part of it would have to be the first verse. I notice you said that the meaning may have been lost through the experimentation...um - yes! I don't think that every poem however need consist of a concrete meaning...certainly not contemporary freeverse...(this coming from her Vagueness herself, courtesy Jamie). But there were some parts that I just thought - what does he mean? Hehe...like: 'crushing crowded creeps' this line...it is ambigiuous in that either there can be 'creeps' who are crushing and crowded or the 'crushing crowded' can be creeping... ambiguity can be a good thing of course... I think the way to sharpen this piece would be less alliteration and a few words that aren't alliterative. For example this line is quite good: 'my present time breathes me pungent, tired breaths,' (except for the 'me' - is it meant to be 'my'?) What do you think? KI have no idea...thats what we are here to find out... "He looked across the silky surface of the Severn... it was a famously difficult river with fierce tides..." From Jack Maggs |
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Sudhir Iyer Member Ascendant
since 2000-04-26
Posts 6943Mumbai, India : now in Belgium |
Kamla, It is great to hear from you... let's see... yep it is too much, but that's what my experimentation was... something like let's feed myself for the rest of the month with chocolate and see if the shop keeper is fed up of me, because I buy a kilo of chocolate each day... but in that process, I have perhaps stifled the flow... but seem to have created haphazard rash strokes... but definitely not a Picasso... lol but the meaning doesn't seem to be lost atleast to me... lets see it this way melancholy melodies strike stirring strains; myriad miserable mystics survive sublimed sustenance. lonesome sounds make mournful music with myriad of misery (and the sounds) survive a sublimed sustenance (of a distant reverberating echo) poignantly pondering yesterday's yellow yearn, pressured present preys yielding yin-yang's yeast! The stressed today preys my mind in a poignant pondering the 'WHY's and 'WHY NOT's yesterday's yearnings tentative tentacles obscuring obtused, obsolete; twisted twaddle tweaking ominously, omitting omen. The tentacles of the past's tentative obsoleteness obscure in an obtused way causing all kinds of ominous nonsensical blabber (like you see in this poem itself ) blisters bleed crushing crowded creeps beast begins beating, claws clamouring closet This is a tricky part... The sorrow of the longing of the past results in the bleeding of blisters causes a reaction to crush the crowded creeps (relate to omens/ghosts blah blah) and the stifling causes the beast to begin beating the doors of the closet with the claws clamouring for an opening... The whole point was the say how difficult it was to express stuff that is so painful to be told... while at the same time the human tendency is to hide the sorrow in the bottom of the closet called the soul, but the demons keep up their pressure to come out... so we always say, breathe, and let the bad things out aloud, shout in the air and decrease the load on the heart... etc... my present time breathes me pungent, tired breaths, sorrowful yearnings often cry - shadows yell on curiously this is the final part... it has to be "me"... read this as my today breathes to me pungent tired breaths as if it was another person... and the sorrowful yearnings end up in a cry, while the shadows from the soul yell curiously... --------- now all this was not made up to satisfy myself.... Kamla, I do hope that you read this back after this and see if this needs to change... This has been very vague ... vaguer than vagueness itself, I must admit and poetry often needs to be easy going and straight... but with matters of pain to the heart, I must be allowed to lose eloquence...  Many many thanks, my friend... and many regards, Sudhir P.S. gee, I don't even think all that made sense I hope you come along soon...[This message has been edited by Sudhir Iyer (edited 09-12-2000).] |
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