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The Dead |
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Local Parasite
since 2001-11-05
Posts 2527Transylconia, Winnipeg 
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I came into the corpse of an expanse And saw the likes of what I'd never seen--- Frail bodies lay in a diluted trance While on their skin, Beelzebub did dance Calling a host of Vultures to the scene--- Faces among the dying caught my cries Reaching at me with tender affirmation "Behold," said one, "as now the Lord of Lies His curse upon the living Muses plies And renders all to bitter desecration." "I fear," another said, "the consequence Upon th'enlightened sympathies of those Whose hearts are tender, and whose greater sense Could otherwise the dying reeds incense With radiance, and deeper truths disclose." "But I," I stammered, fearful of the state Of the collapsing Earth, "cannot decree The tales that you to my intents relate, I fear that I may likewise desecrate The state of things, or yet more possibly Throw but a spark at the all-quenching sea And rend my efforts lost in history." "Dear child," another voice my heart assured, "Have faith that thou art temparate, and though Thy craft be primitive, thy vision blurred, The Powers that be shall animate thy word With Vision higher, as thine efforts grow And thine Experience to thee doth show The Truth by virtue of the high Absurd. Behold the vastness of the path before--- It is a cemetary draped in vines Names of the scribes of thy enamored lore Are long disfigured from their native shore Upon which a more frightening shade reclines Muting all promise of their ortive lines. I fear," the voice confided, as the clouds Departed from the atmosphere, "That we Have seen our time of Day, and been allowed The time allotted us---ere night-time shrouds Our virtues from the hapless progeny Of our dead kinsmen, I must ask of thee, How many yet remain of the avowed?" Abashed---such that my throat bit each reply I tried to make, or all that thus resembled Amelioration---Eager to comply, I sent the ages each accusing eye With my cold fingers, and I wept and trembled As their vast kingdom slowly disassembled. The glowing Moon who Wisdom now proclaims Has since ascended, and the myriad slaves Of the Nocturnal strand beckon my shame; I see Aeolus there, the first who came, Laying his strings like flowers at their graves, And blowing elegies across the waves In tribute to their unrequited fame. From spot to spot, I see an orchid rise Unwary of the winter's frosty clime, Popping its head through the malignant guise Of nightfall, bringing wetness to mine eyes, The more I weep for each born out of time That, soon as it may breathe, crumples and dies. [This message has been edited by Local Parasite (12-15-2003 03:35 AM).] |
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Alicat Member Elite
since 1999-05-23
Posts 4094Coastal Texas |
This one caught me by surprise and quickly pulled me in to devour your written word. Only after several such feastings, did I notice one inconsistency which, when seen, detracted from the scancion: 4th stanza, abaabbb whereas the other stanzas utilize abaabba. There was also the fluctuation between the initial quintets then the variance of sestets and septets, though that might have been by design. Overall, the melancholy undertone continues to draw me, reading aloud in lyric odal quality. And I find myself mourning softly for other writers born out of time. Alicat |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
Hi LP I feel totally inadequate to reply to this..but wanted you to know that I am in awe of the intelligence with which you write and your knowledge of how to do it. It's good to see you! PS Hugs! |
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Local Parasite
since 2001-11-05
Posts 2527Transylconia, Winnipeg |
Alicat - I didn't think that inconsistency was such a problem... it was indeed my intent to make this poem ode-like, in that the lines came as I felt they needed a place and the consistency was purely metrical. I did try to keep unity between stanzas by binding them with two rhymes apiece, but for the extended stanzas didn't much worry about any particular scheme in the additional lines, just that they'd rhyme with anything prior. Thanks for your feedback, maybe I'll revise this sometime. Martie - it's great to be read by someone I admire so much... your praise puts me in the clouds. Thanks very much.  Brian Faith is a fine invention |
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KoKo Senior Member
since 2003-02-15
Posts 995Inside the shadow's shadow |
This...was awesome. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Keeping it...but picking two nits  Stanza 1, line 1, perhaps "corpse" would read better as "copse"; Stanza 5, line 2, "temperate". Still and all, keeping it for the pure enjoyment of the read. In fact, I think I shall even send it to Marti... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
I thought this captivating, Brian. and yanno, I don't know diddly 'bout meter, so you KNOW I ain't going there, but I know flow, and that it does. The surreal imagery reminded me of my own inner sleep travels, and groan, I'm so impressionable I'll prolly dream this tonight. I like Ali's comment too-- "And I find myself mourning softly for other writers born out of time." That says exactly what I've been trying to convey to you all this time.  yer good, m'friend. |
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fractal007 Senior Member
since 2000-06-01
Posts 1958 |
LP: It's been a while, and I think I owe u and the guys a visit and an indepth analysis/application of my twisted mind/explication: I really like the first stanza. It sounds somewhat like the medieval imagery of the dance of death often seen in paintings and such in that period, symbolizing the sudden onset of death. The second stanza, with the desecration and defiling of the muses, gives me yet another symbolic image, in this case that of the arts being taking and corrupted by the spirit of our age. This is interesting and quite possibly wrong on my part, as it seems to me that the arts are usually the ones forecasting the malaise to come in the rest of society, and not the other way round. But all the same, the next two stanzas do seem to lend credibility at least to the idea of contemporary art, or at least the so-called "way things used to be" being desecrated by something, and indeed even, as feared in the fourth stanza, by the speaker himself. I really like the next stanza. Here we see an apparently spiritual force desiring to animate the speaker in his artistical and poetical quest. The quest itself appears to involve the next generation, those who still must be initiated into this world of poetry and art, that they may not be caught and destroyed by the prevailing death of our age. The next stanza is quite haunting, with the "kingdom" of ages past crumbling, presumably not in and of itself, but rather as a result of the collective forgetting of our ignorant generation still to be rescued by the speaker. The allusion of the next stanza is well-done. You have weaved nature well with the speaker's shame at being unable to complete his task. And finally, the predicament of this era, and of the speaker, and indeed of all of the poets and writers and artists, is once again reinforced in the final stanza. A well-written poem and one which gave me no shortage of good fun in analyzing and reading. Hope this explication somewhat hit the nail on the head. It certainly got the gears of my imagination turning. Once again, another library-worthy piece filled with wonderful images fit for a fantasy novel of the highest order. I hope you continue writing, LP. I must confess that I dropped away from the fixed form world for a good part of this past semester, choosing instead to write free verse poetry for the assignments in my creative writing course. 2+2=5 for sufficiently large values of 2 --Smit My Creations [This message has been edited by fractal007 (12-16-2003 11:53 PM).] |
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Allysa
since 1999-11-09
Posts 1952In an upside-down garden |
I'm attempting to respond while I read, instead of after I read, so I might get a tad repeatative in places. Frail bodies lay in a diluted trance while on their skin, Beezlebub did dance calling a host of Vultures to the scene For the first time in a while, the opening stanza of a poem has actually painted a picture inside my mind. I can clearly see it and actually reminds me quite of something that I dreamt once. Faces among the dying caught my eyes reaching at me with tender affirmation You continue to paint the picture and as I read this, my website partner was busy informing me of the history of Beezlebub. These two lines caught my eye because it allowed me to invision the teller of this as they walk through the story. "Behold," said one, "as now the Lord of Lies His curse upon the living Muses plies And renders all to bitter desecration." I like this part because you refer to the Lord of Lies, which paints mystery in my mind. I can imagine all of this inside my head, and it's fascinating. "I fear," another said, "the consequence Upon th'enlightened sympathies of those Whose hearts are tender, and whose greater sense Could otherwise the dying reeds incense With radiance, and deeper truths disclose." As this is the first stanza that is purely speech, it shows something different than the others. Your voice throughout this is wonderful so far and I adore it. "But I," I stammered, fearful of the state Of the collapsing Earth, "cannot decree The tales that you to my intents relate, I fear that I may likewise desecrate The state of things, or yet more possibly Throw but a spark at the all-quenching sea And rend my efforts lost in history." This is one of my favorite stanzas in this, as you show the storyteller of this tale, and he speaks and reacts in such an interesting mannor. I especially love the last line of this. "Dear child," another voice my heart assured, "Have faith that thou art temparate, and though Thy craft be primitive, thy vision blurred, The Powers that be shall animate thy word With Vision higher, as thine efforts grow And thine Experience to thee doth show The Truth by virtue of the high Absurd. I especially enjoy the way you started this stanza, Brian, choosing to use the "dear child". It's soothing almost, and continues to develop the story of this poem. Behold the vastness of the path before--- It is a cemetary draped in vines Names of the scribes of thy enamored lore Are long disfigured from their native shore Upon which a more frightening shade reclines Muting all promise of their ortive lines. I don't really have very much to say about this stanza, except for that I enjoy it. I fear," the voice confided, as the clouds Departed from the atmosphere, "That we Have seen our time of Day, and been allowed The time allotted us---ere night-time shrouds Our virtues from the hapless progeny Of our dead kinsmen, I must ask of thee, How many yet remain of the avowed?" The beginning of this reminded me, for some odd reason, of a passage in the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. I'm not exactly sure why, but that was an interesting element that was drawn into my mind. Sadly, my reading is now disrupted. Perhaps I will return later. All in all, it has so far been a very intruiging reading, Brian. You know I always have strange interpretations, so who knows where this one could lead. [This message has been edited by Allysa (12-17-2003 03:14 PM).] |
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LoveBug
Moderator
Member Elite
since 2000-01-08
Posts 4697 |
"From spot to spot, I see an orchid rise Unwary of the winter's frosty clime, Popping its head through the malignant guise Of nightfall, bringing wetness to mine eyes, The more I weep for each born out of time That, soon as it may breathe, crumples and dies." Of the whole poem, I think that this stanza is the most powerful. It is a wonderful symbol of just.. so many things. The entire poem is quite powerful and quite relevant, I believe, to our earthly kingdom as it is today. whew... geez... you remind me of what I've missed here. Oh, make me Thine forever |
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Child of the Stars
since 2000-09-07
Posts 1658Ann Arbor, MI |
It's one of those things where you can't clutch the whole deal until you're ready. I think I was ready. (I am now.) Not a word imperfect, as always.  -Carly "How inimitably graceful children are in general before they learn to dance!" |
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anonymousfemale Member Elite
since 2000-02-02
Posts 2797Limbo |
...and you still write with the beauty of one thousand angels, Brian. ~AF~ I'm not being rude. You're just insignificant. |
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Midnitesun
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647Gaia |
I refuse to analyze this to death (never mind I'm not qualified to anyway) but it speaks to me with a great heart beat. Now and then, truly memorable poetry finds itself before my eyes, and makes my throat catch just a bit with it's depth. Thank you for sharing just such a piece, LP. |
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Marshalzu
since 2001-02-15
Posts 2681Lurking |
This is wonderful writing and was throughily enjoyed. Andrew |
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anawnda Member
since 2002-07-26
Posts 113 |
"The more I weep for each born out of time That, soon as it may breathe, crumples and dies." .............im back ! and im glad to see you here, still writing your gripping and powerful poetry. * you can hurt me...with your bare hands,or |
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