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The Aspect of Love
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The Aspect of Love |
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Local Parasite
since 2001-11-05
Posts 2527Transylconia, Winnipeg 
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The Aspect of Love When morning doth its great eternal shine Return to cut thine eyelids loose from sleep That thou art risen, o, when that time cometh When sheets of summer, slick with love's decline Slide from thy form and to the carpet creep For now unwantedness, and down thee runneth A cold sweat from a passion now imprison'd-- No, wear no vesture now that thou art risen. Thou host of waking hours, and of night, Who hast, in that vast garden of perfection Spent moments long and far oblivious To any of thy senses--hold the light Of morn, and with that lantern, shun reflection To draw thy senses 'round thyself, and thus Regard the majesty that doth recline As some great Goddess 'pon her Earthly shrine. Wherefore dost thou, in such distressing tones Decieve her with sweet lies of normalcy? And wherefore, with sincerest, firm conviction Describ'st thou all her features, when 'pon stones Thou see'st the blood-rich corpse of jealousy? No, bind her not with such impure restriction, For she hath beauty starker and more fierce Than mere idealism e'er could pierce. Now, with this light, regard thy love in slumber-- That steady breath that doth so agitate Her stillness, and be mindful of thine own, For thou didst, with thy lovings, chill and numb her To such a peaceful, melancholy state As thou see'st now--each wild, ecstatic moan That through thy skull doth still, in echo, ring Hath shrunk into a frail and simpler thing. Dost thou remember that empassion'd flare That lit the night, and lit thine eyes with thunder? Ript open day's attire, and there did plunder For pleasure, and for that impending scare Of sweet release? And how that nudity Did so reveal thee--the dark did paint with sin Where thou would'st see the marks upon her skin And rather, feel the direst sympathy. Years prior, in her childhood did she lay Upon the leaves and flowers of the garden? Perhaps a beetle, red and spotted black Did crawl upon her finger, and did rest-- And she, her vision knowing all, knew best But better with the years, her gaze did harden And tore beneath the markings on its back To see its truth, and screaming, cast the fiend away. |
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| © Copyright 2003 Brian James Lee - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
oh yes........ the moth will be back... this you can count on  You're the best I've ever felt ... |
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LoveBug
Moderator
Member Elite
since 2000-01-08
Posts 4697 |
Dost thou remember that empassion'd flare That lit the night, and lit thine eyes with thunder? Ript open day's attire, and there did plunder For pleasure, and for that impending scare Of sweet release? And how that nudity Did so reveal thee--the dark did paint with sin Where thou would'st see the marks upon her skin And rather, feel the direst sympathy. My goodness... I love how you set up this piece.. comparing past occurances to those that have occured. Personifying love, in a way... a difficult feat that you have done well.. But, in the last stanza.. is that red and black beetle a LOVEBUG?!?! Oh, make me Thine forever |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
When morning doth its great eternal shine Return to cut thine eyelids loose from sleep That thou art risen, o, when that time cometh When sheets of summer, slick with love's decline Slide from thy form and to the carpet creep For now unwantedness, and down thee runneth A cold sweat from a passion now imprison'd-- No, wear no vesture now that thou art risen. Thou host of waking hours, and of night, Who hast, in that vast garden of perfection Spent moments long and far oblivious To any of thy senses--hold the light Of morn, and with that lantern, shun reflection To draw thy senses 'round thyself, and thus Regard the majesty that doth recline As some great Goddess 'pon her Earthly shrine. ======================= Thou see'st the blood-rich corpse of jealousy? No, bind her not with such impure restriction, For she hath beauty starker and more fierce Than mere idealism e'er could pierce. Now, with this light, regard thy love in slumber-- That steady breath that doth so agitate Her stillness, and be mindful of thine own, For thou didst, with thy lovings, chill and numb her To such a peaceful, melancholy state As thou see'st now--each wild, ecstatic moan That through thy skull doth still, in echo, ring Hath shrunk into a frail and simpler thing. Dost thou remember that empassion'd flare That lit the night, and lit thine eyes with thunder? Ript open day's attire, and there did plunder For pleasure, and for that impending scare Of sweet release? And how that nudity Did so reveal thee--the dark did paint with sin Where thou would'st see the marks upon her skin And rather, feel the direst sympathy. ============================== Ya know....just when I think you've mastered the vocab, phrasing and language, you take it to another level. I doubt this mere moth possesses the poetic terminology needed to crit this gem of pen. First of all...does this rhyme scheme have a name??? It looks difficult...until you write it. The tense you write this in...as well as the personification makes it so cool...but for me its the phrasing and vocab,the word choices (and the word play) and the use of the old style language that makes this so impressive. Return to cut thine eyelids loose from sleep That thou art risen, o, when that time cometh When sheets of summer, slick with love's decline Slide from thy form and to the carpet creep For now unwantedness, and down thee runneth ~~ Dost thou remember that empassion'd flare That lit the night, and lit thine eyes with thunder? Ript open day's attire, and there did plunder You create the drama and emotional conflict with your angsty verses of imagery and personify and the very cool and clever use of questioning lines and couplets and then wrap them up in rhyme divine. Like I said above...you took this art form and mastered it in previous posts..but now took it to a higher level with this offering. Me thinks Bill Shakes is smiling I know this moth is  very cool write poet sir  You're the best I've ever felt ... |
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JP Senior Member
since 1999-05-25
Posts 1343Loomis, CA |
I love the 'classic' feel of this. Well done, once again. Yesterday is ash, tomorrow is smoke; only today does the fire burn. |
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fractal007 Senior Member
since 2000-06-01
Posts 1958 |
Brian[May I start calling u that?]: Your latest piece is yet another in your collection of poetry that ties romantic natural imagery in with human relations. The poem expresses a very brutal irony, apparently[assuming my interpretation is correct] attacking the jealousy of a man toward a woman loved by another man. However, if this interpretation is correct your reference to the corpse of jealousy may be misleading. I do have some qualms with the rhyming scheme. It seemed less than obvious at times. I was able to detect your rhyming of the third with third to last lines, a pattern that remained fairly consistent, but elsewhere you seem to have arbitrarilly dotted your poem with couplets here and there, along with rhymes between the first and last lines of a given stanza. Finally, every stanza but the last features the first line rhyming with the fourth. However, you achieve a rhyme scheme that, although not always well-defined, remains subtle and effective. At any rate, I'll be adding this to my library, as I don't think I've yet mined it for all it has to offer. 2+2=5 for sufficiently large values of 2 |
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Local Parasite
since 2001-11-05
Posts 2527Transylconia, Winnipeg |
Erica - YES, it is a lovebug!  Kind of ironic how it's the symbol representing the recognition of false love. That image was inspired when I was raking the leaves outside and I happened upon some ladybugs, who were crawling all over... there were some on my jeans, too. And it made me think of how when you're a kid, for some reason, a ladybug isn't gross like another bug... even though it's basically just the same as any old insect.Thanks for the read and the reply. JM - You sweetie... The rhyme scheme has a name... "Mine." It's just something I've been toying with lately. I try to keep stanzas fairly organized but sometimes it's difficult to phrase something in such a way that the rhymes always fall into the places they're required to go... so, I'm trying to scatter my rhymes around and make them a bit more unpredictable. As long as each line has a complimentary rhyme or two, I'm satisfied.Of course, I still do the strict formatting... I'm just trying to have a bit of fun with mixing it up. Glad you felt this was a step up for me. I'm definitely trying to improve... JP - Thank you for your kind words... yes, I try to recapture the "classic" concept of poetry... I've been greatly influenced by poets from the Romantic era lately, hence the "classic" feel to some of my work... glad you could pick up on it.  Fractal - Well, maybe I wasn't clear enough on the meaning of this poem... it's more a description of the aspect of love itself, the face of it, the way that it looks... as well as the way that one should look for it. What I'm trying to demonstrate is how people consider "beauty" to be a question of standard... whether or not someone meets a certain standard for "beauty" is generally how we define it. It bothers me, how people call each other beautiful however normal their features are, and ugly however abnormal they appear... I'm arguing that beauty is inherent, it's not based on meeting media standards, it's something that's far deeper and takes more work to appreciate. It's the understanding of the other, the sympathy that comes with feeling a person's history, life and experience. The aspect of love is understanding, seeing the marks on the skin and not disregarding them, not looking past them, but feeling the most profound sympathy in regards to them... Maybe I should revise this poem, if it's at all unclear on that... this is one of my more important works and I don't like to think that I failed in my effort to write it. As for the rhyme scheme, I've already defended it above... it's something I did intentionally, so lay off. Thanks for reading, everyone... Parasite Poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world. |
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fractal007 Senior Member
since 2000-06-01
Posts 1958 |
LP: In a vain similar to your arguments concerning this poem it may be that my own interpretation was *inherently* flawed, rather than the actual presentation of the meaning within the poem itself. I have been known to stray from the poet's original intentions when reading and interpreting a poem. 2+2=5 for sufficiently large values of 2 |
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Sven
since 1999-11-23
Posts 14937East Lansing, MI USA |
"feeling a person. . . " I like this idea that you've shown here. . . it's one that makes ME think. . .and, I love the way that you've presented it. . . this rhyme scheme that you've come up with works. . . and, how can we "boldly go" if no one has "boldly gone"?? great work LP. . . you constantly challenge me. . . and that's a good thing. . . -------------------------------------------------------------- To the world, you may only be one person. But to one person, you may be the world. |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
quote: *shaking me head* even your replies are pure poetry. as to the insight in the above words... the empathy and intent touch me in me mothyheart. I refuse to accept that mankind is so tragically bound to the starless midnight of racism & war that the daybreak of peace can never be reality. |
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