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Open Poetry #5
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Tolkien's world
| Open Poetry #5 |
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Tolkien's world |
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Artur Hawkwing Member
since 1999-06-30
Posts 444USA |
Just a brief imitation of Tolkien's poetry- some ideas aren't mine but this is only an imitation. An one-time effort. Let me know what you think. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clouds were sifting through high trees, wordless music could be heard in the breeze as the leaves fell pallid and dead upon summerless grounds in the mead, the starry gardens now shone divine, the glory, the beauty, the loveliness. The tears falling from fountains in the lake now rose as a mist, slowly in its wake, and waterfalls clashed in return; softly the great earth came upon a turn till sun rise again upon airy dream and white sun blaze upon lone stream. Dark, sundering seas for ever roar in the eastern sea, without wear, the Sunless Seas it is renown in song for maddening are its waters, and ghosts long upon shore moan the horrors unspoken; but in Elvenland the fair pearls glitter unbroken upon shores, and sharp voices come unseen mighty as the sea, wild as summer green. |
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| © Copyright 2000 Artur Hawkwing - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Nan
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-20
Posts 21191Cape Cod Massachusetts USA |
I'd like to see what you're emulating, of course, Artur... but you've used some pretty effective imagery here.. |
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Dusk Treader
Moderator
Senior Member
since 1999-06-18
Posts 1187St. Paul, MN |
I being a Tolkien fanatic was caught just by your title. You've definetly given a dark cast to the land of Middle Earth (IMHO), though I must say this seems to be much different from Tolkien in style, though you can see corresponding points (i.e. The Sundering Seas). Much enjoyed, I'd love to see some Tolkien inspired poetry.  In flames I shall not be consumed, but reborn. -- Abrahm Simons |
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Denise
Moderator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-08-22
Posts 22648 |
I'm not familiar with Tolkien' works so I can't make a comparison, but I thought this was an excellent poem! I enjoyed it very much! Denise And slight is the sting of his trouble Whose winnings are less than his worth; For he who is honest is noble, Whatever his fortunes or birth.~~~Alice Cary, ~Nobility~ |
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Skyfyre Senior Member
since 1999-08-15
Posts 1906Sitting in Michael's Lap |
Never read any of Tolkein's poetry, but I loved his Lord of the Rings as a child ... This, to me, seemed reminiscent of either the Mordor or perhaps some of Michael Moorcock's Elric writing (though to my knowledge Moorcock didn't write in verse). Excellent poem nonetheless -- the second stanza was my favorite but then I am a fan of nearly anything fantasy. --Kess You cannot choose the way of your death, but the path you choose will determine its own end. |
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Seymour Tabin Member Empyrean
since 1999-07-07
Posts 31720Tamarac Fla |
Artur, Good pallette, good paint, enjoyed the read. |
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Majestic Member
since 2000-01-11
Posts 264houston, tx. |
well lets see here...after reading it a couple times...i can picture the destuction of Lothlorien after the one ring was destroyed....Only a thought....Excellent imagery...great read Artur... |
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Artur Hawkwing Member
since 1999-06-30
Posts 444USA |
Oh no. Thanks for waiting on me  ...here it is...Nan- You wanna see what I am emulating? - sure thing - it'll be at the end of this post... so no one who hates Tolkien poetry would have to read it. Thanks for the imagery comment, much appreciated. Dusk Treader- Dark cast - I know, sorry! It is part of my style - I like to write about mysterious things - the lands of myth are often wild and have terrifying qualities - or are idealistically serene. I will think of what else I can write that is Tolkien-inspired... thank you. Denise- Thanks - at the end of this post, you can compare... Skyfyre- Second stanza is better?... thanks for letting me know. I need to know what people enjoy the most in my own poetry... but get ready to read your first Tolkien poem, then! Seymour- Thank you, I try. Majestic- Interesting thought, Majestic...I will think of it...perhaps a poem can be written on the destruction of Lothlorien! For Nan's sake: I emulated what came out of the book The Lays of Beleriand: The History of Middle-earth by J.R.R. Tolkien. What I visualized came from several different sections of poetry - I don't even know where to start. But here they are. p. 197 (of Morgoth) Far in the North neath hills of stone in caverns black there was a throne by fires illumined underground, that winds of ice with moaning sound made flare and flicker in dark smoke; the wavering bitter coils did choke the sunless airs of dungeons deep where evil things did crouch and creep. There sat a king: no Elfin race nor mortal blood, nor kindly grace of earth or heaven might he own, far older, stronger than the stone the world is build of, than the fire that burns within more fierce and dire; and thoughts profound were in his heart: a gloomy power that dwelt apart. (way Tolkien describes the environment makes me think...) --------------------------------------------- p. 395 (of Luthien) Such lissom limbs no more shall run on the green earth beneath the sun; so fair a maid no more shall be from dawn to dusk, from sun to sea, Her robe was blue as summer skies, but grey as evening were her eyes; her mantle sewn with lilies fair, but dark as shadow was her hair. Her feet were swift as bird on wing, her laughter merry as the spring; the slender willow, the bowing reed, the fragrance of a flowering mead, the light upon the leaves of trees, the voice of water, more than these her beauty was and blissfulness, her glory and her loveliness. (It could be why I included 'glory', 'loveliness', and 'mead' as contained in that passage) --------------------------------------------- Last of all, I will include my favorite excerpt from that book. Please watch out... (if you hate, absolutely hate, long passages...read anyway, you might find it enjoyable) p. 211 (of Beren and Luthien) In sunshine and in sheen of moon, with silken robe and silver shoon, the daughter of the deathless queen now danced on the undying green, half elven-fair and half divine; and when the stars began to shine unseen but near a piping woke, and in the branches of an oak, or seated on the beech-leaves brown, Dairon the dark with ferny crown played with bewildering wizard's art music for breaking of the heart. Such players have there only been thrice in all Elfinesse, I ween: Tinfang Gelion who still the moon enchants on summer nights of June and kindles the pale firstling star; and he who harps upon the far forgotten beaches and dark shores where western foam for ever roars, Maglor whose voice is like the sea; and Dairon, mightiest of the three. Now it befell on summer night, upon a lawn where lingering light yet lay and faded faint and grey, that Luthien danced while he did play. The chestnuts on the turf had shed their flowering candles, white and red; there darkling stood a silent elm and pale beneath its shadow-helm there glimmered faint the umbels thick of hemlocks like a mist, and quick the moths on pallid wings of white with tiny eyes of fiery light were fluttering softly, and the voles crept out to listen from their holes; the little owls were hushed and still; the moon was yet behind the hill. Her arms like ivory were gleaming, her long hair like a cloud was streaming, her feet atwinkle wandered roaming in misty mazes in the gloaming; and glowworms shimmered round her feet, and moths in moving garland fleet above her head went wavering wan-- and this the moon now looked upon, uprisen slow, and round, and white, above the branches of the clear night. Then clearly thrilled her voice and rang; with sudden ecstasy she sang a song of nightingales she learned and with her elvish magic turned to such bewildering delight the moon hung moveless in the night. And this it was that Beren heard, and this he saw, without a word, enchanted dumb, yet filled with fire of such a wonder and desire that all his mortal mind was dim; and faint he leaned against a tree. Forwandered, wayworn, gaunt was he, his body sick and heart gone cold, grey in his hair, his youth turned old; for those that tread the lonely way a price of woe and anguish pay. And now his heart was healed and slain with a new life and with new pain. He gazed, and as he gazed her hair within its cloudy web did snare the silver moonbeams sifting white between the leaves, and glinting bright the tremulous starlight of the skies was caught and mirrored in her eyes. Then all his journey's lonely fare, the hunger and the haggard care, the awful mountains' stones he stained with bloody of weary feet, and gained only a land of ghosts, and fear in dark ravines imprisoned sheer-- there mighty spiders wove their webs, old creatures foul with birdlike nebs that span their traps in dizzy air, and filled it with clinging black despair, and there they lived, and the sucked bones lay white beneath on the dank stones-- now all these horrors like a cloud faded from mind. The waters loud falling from pineclad heights no more he heard, those waters grey and frore that bittersweet he drank and filled his mind with madness--all was stilled. He recked not now the burning road, the paths demented where he strode endlessly . . . and ever new horizons stretched before his view, as each blue ridge with bleeding feet was climbed, and down he went to meet battle with creatures old and strong and monsters in the dark, and long, long watches in the haunted night while evil shapes with baleful light in clustered eyes did crawl and snuff beneath his tree--not half enough the price he deemed to come at last to that pale moon when day had passed, to those clear stars of Elfinesse, the heart-ease and the loveliness. Lo! all forgetting he was drawn unheeding toward the glimmering lawn by love and wonder that compelled his feet from hiding; music welled within his heart, and songs unmade on themes unthought-of moved and swayed his soul with sweetness; out he came, a shadow in the moon's pale flame-- and Dairon's flute as sudden stops as lark before it steeply drops, as grasshopper within the grass listening for heavy feet to pass. 'Flee, Luthien!', and 'Luthien!' from hiding Dairon called again; 'A stranger walks the woods! Away!' But Luthien would wondering stay; fear she had never felt or known, till fear then seized her, all alone, seeing that shape with shagged hair and shadow long that halted there. Then sudden she vanished like a dream in dark oblivion, a gleam in hurrying clouds, for she had leapt among the hemlocks tall, and crept under a mighty plant with leaves all long and dark, whose stem in sheaves upheld an hundred umbels fair; and her white arms and shoulders bare her rainment pale, and in her hair the wild white roses glimmering there, all lay like splattered moonlight hoar in gleaming pools upon the floor. Then stared he wild in dumbness bound as silent trees, deserted ground; he blindly groped across the glade to the dark trees' encircling shade, and, while she watched with veiled eyes, touched her soft arm in sweet surprise. Like startled moth from deathlike sleep in sunless nook or bushes deep she darted swift, and to and fro with cunning that elvish dancers know about the trunks of trees she twined a path fantastic. Far behind enchanted, wildered and forlorn Beren came blundering, bruised and torn: Esgalduin the elven-stream, in which amid tree-shadows gleam the stars, flowed strong before his feet. Some secret way she found, and fleet passed over and was seen no more, and left him forsaken on the shore. (This was probably where I came up with the main theme for this poem. Without referring to any characters.) Happy, Nan? Sorry for the length - but you asked! |
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RainbowGirl Member Elite
since 1999-07-31
Posts 3023United Kingdom |
Arthur: I'm lost for words... HUGS Don't ask me where I'm going, just listen when I'm gone and far away you'll hear me singing softly to the dawn. |
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Majestic Member
since 2000-01-11
Posts 264houston, tx. |
WOOHOO!...Tolkien..the master..hehehe...The Father of fantasy....and his prodigee'...Mr. Artur Hawkwing... |
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hoot_owl_rn Member Patricius
since 1999-07-05
Posts 10750Glen Hope, PA USA |
I have to be the first here to admit, although I'm fimilar with The Lord of the Rings Trilogy...I didn't even realize Tolkien wrote poetry. Well done |
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Artur Hawkwing Member
since 1999-06-30
Posts 444USA |
Thanks for the great responses everybody, I have really enjoyed getting to hear what you had to say regarding this piece! RainbowGirl - Don't worry about it. I appreciate knowing that you read this. Majestic - Now that makes me laugh! He's a genius isn't he? Hoot_owl - Thank you. |
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Majestic Member
since 2000-01-11
Posts 264houston, tx. |
He gave us elves and dragons and a place in our imagination to view them in all their splendor.....Myself...genius just isn't a strong enough word....(maybe my opinion is biased)....lol |
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