Two Attempts
Ok, so first off, these are both a little cornball, I know, but for some reason, form poetry just seems to bring out the cheese in me. I don't know why, maybe Billy Joel can explain it to me. And secondly, they're both theistically themed, so to type. That's just where I'm at these days. I tried to make the Shakespearean one a little more philosophical, but it just came out as devotional love mysticism-type stuff. So here you go:
(oh, and grey, by the way, I think any type of form poetry will suffice at this point !-) )
#1
Hindu and Hasid praise Your name,
Each one coming, a tongue of flame,
To preach and unite, to burn and reclaim.
Christian and Taoist are one in this,
Prefering You to all earthly bliss
Turning away from all eathly gifts.
Moslem and Buddhist on this can agree,
That You are present in all that we see
That You are the truth that sets us free.
And what are You but my own true I,
The I of everything under the sky,
And above it too, where planets fly.
#2
My love is shaped like river bends,
Her breasts, like hills, do rise and sway,
Her hair's like seaweed and cattail ends
That shake and quiver around the bay.
Her eyes are sapphire, black and gold,
Her lips a whisper of forgotten dreams,
Hands butterfly-soft and crystal cold,
And upon her vestment no marring seams.
Sometimes she laughs when I call her name,
Sometimes a sigh and she turns away,
Sometimes she responds, and with joyous refrain
Forgetting ourselves, like children we play.
My Life and my Soul I lay down at your feet.
(oh, and grey, by the way, I think any type of form poetry will suffice at this point !-) )
#1
Hindu and Hasid praise Your name,
Each one coming, a tongue of flame,
To preach and unite, to burn and reclaim.
Christian and Taoist are one in this,
Prefering You to all earthly bliss
Turning away from all eathly gifts.
Moslem and Buddhist on this can agree,
That You are present in all that we see
That You are the truth that sets us free.
And what are You but my own true I,
The I of everything under the sky,
And above it too, where planets fly.
#2
My love is shaped like river bends,
Her breasts, like hills, do rise and sway,
Her hair's like seaweed and cattail ends
That shake and quiver around the bay.
Her eyes are sapphire, black and gold,
Her lips a whisper of forgotten dreams,
Hands butterfly-soft and crystal cold,
And upon her vestment no marring seams.
Sometimes she laughs when I call her name,
Sometimes a sigh and she turns away,
Sometimes she responds, and with joyous refrain
Forgetting ourselves, like children we play.
My Love, never aging, never dying, complete
My Life and my Soul I lay down at your feet.
posted by Diptherio at
9:20 PM
2 Comments:
I had no idea you could be so sentimental.... I LIKE it.
I enjoyed the first one and, unexpectedly, enjoyed the second one as well.
They're sentimental, but not too sentimental. Some of your phrasing in #2 is pretty cheesy and they both end sentimentally, but maybe that's a pitfall of the form when amateurs such as we try our hands.
What I like best about #2 is that there are moments that undercut those sentiments, such as "Sometimes she laughs" when you call her name. You mention other reactions that she "sometimes" has, but the door is left open for other reactions:
Sometimes she frowns and grunts;
Sometimes she throws rocks at me and flees; or
Sometimes she pretends she didn't hear me, again.
In a poem that seems so focussed on one person, it's honest to let the relationship between the speaker and the subject poke through, especially if that relationship is less perfect and often unsentimental.
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