ForumsArt, Music, and WritingParsat's Sentiments

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Parsat
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Parsat
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So I get asked every now and then whether I have a poem thread. Well, I used to, but I can never really get the hang of it. Every time I reread my own poems, I often have the urge to revise it to make it better...when you read your own poems the flaws jump out, and AG's lack of post editing bothers me.

Still, since many of us have their own dedicated threads, I figure I'll have mine. If you'd like to read my old writing thread, it's called The Moon Still Rises, and consists mostly of my translations of ancient Chinese poetry.

I'll start off with one of my own personal favorites that I submitted a while ago in the poetry contest, when the theme was "Love." It is directly inspired by Edgar Allen Poe's "The Raven," and borrows the same rhyme scheme.

Lenore

What days have passed when summerâs last
Has come and then gone by?
When its breath grew small and it came to fall
To hold manâs thrall with leaves and bleary sky:
âTis time to say goodbye.

In summerâs wake came us to the lake,
The lake! Just her and I.
We sat under a willow on earth soft as a pillow
Gazing at the billow of waves and clouds on high
That waved to us to say goodbye.

âTwas her the seraphs did adore, her the cherubs named Lenore,
A maiden with my heart allied.
With countenance fair and flaxen hair,
Such beauty rare upon my eye,
Thus loath was I to say goodbye.

Amid the foam and grassy loam
I paused, about to cry.
"Lenore," said I with quavering voice, "I have no choice
But to leave your poise and quiet sighs,
The time has come to say goodbye."

Her gaze, it traveled to my soul, there upon that grassy knoll,
But from her mouth there came one word: "Why?"
Our fears welled up in burning tears
Sharper than spears that fatally fly:
"Because we have to say goodbye."

I held her close for how long God knows
But I was a fool, a wretched spy.
I never returned, so afraid to be spurned,
But within me burned the warmth of July:
The one I spent, but bade goodbye.

Now her soul, so pure and whole,
Has left this Earth and I,
I have been, forevermore, deprived of the paramour
Who lives nevermore; as she lived and died
I cannot bring myself to say goodbye.

  • 21 Replies
thisisnotanalt
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thisisnotanalt
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OH YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAAYYYYYYYYYY

You are my personal favorite AG poet along with Gab/Crouton, so it is awesome to have another base for your awesomeness :t
You did the rhyming brilliantly there, by the way. You used the scheme almost as well as Poe himself.

IcyIndia
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IcyIndia
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OH YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAAYYYYYYYYYY

Don't have a heart attack

I agree anyway. It sounds just like Poe's writing.
I like how it gets a bit emotional but it's still sorta detached, and still uses a passive vocabulary
Zaork
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Zaork
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Great. I hope you update this often. I loved that poem. It sent me back to when I first read 'The Raven' and the chill through my spine was rekindled. You clever man.

MoonFairy
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Brilliant Parsat. Simply brilliant.
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary.
Are you by any chance Poe, just in a different life?

Parsat
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Parsat
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Well, Poe was a Gothic poet, which I definitely am not. He believed that long poems like epics are abominations, which I don't believe, even though I can't write narrative poetry at all. Nor did he like allegorical poetry, which I disagree heavily with.

Other than those, Poe actually has relatively similar tastes to mine. He was a big fan of the "aesthetic poem," which is rhythmic (almost lyrical) and sentimental in nature. He loved ballad meter, which I have to admit is a lovely one indeed. You can read all about his tastes in his essay "The Poetic Principle." If you're looking for a good discussion on what makes good poetry, The Poetic Principle is definitely one for the Romantic perspective.

MoonFairy
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Way to blow it out of proportion. XP
It was just a way for me to add on to my relatively unhelpful comment about your poetry. Get it?

Parsat
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Parsat
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One of my favorite styles to write in is the sonnet. Expect to see a lot of them here.

Back in the day, I used to be a speed sonneteer; when I was in shape I could write a sonnet in 10-15 minutes. The rules are quite simple: You're given a line in blank verse (typically from Shakespeare), and you have to write a Shakespearian sonnet on it. This is the first real one that I demonstrated live in my English class, which I wrote in about 15 or so minutes. The Shakespeare line, which is bolded, comes from Act 5, Scene 1 in Macbeth. The actual lines that my classmates gave me were not blank verse, but I decided to roll along with it anyway.


Lo you! Here she comes, this is her very guise,
And upon my life, fast asleep, observe her; stand close,

Sit down, and we shall be none the wise
As dreams consume her consciousness the most.
What's in her mind? Can female mind be known?
No tangled Gordian Knot is there to cut;
No yarn for labyrinth's way to be shown,
Nor a lamp for my smoldering wick to put.
But men are shallow basins underfilled,
Of metal made, and what liquid is inside
Is what's collected--cats and dogs--from windowsills
And whatever mysteries have chosen in to cry.
To solve enigmas, we might come and fail,
But praps the solution's merely in the pail.

Terrible meter, and the rhymes are extremely loose. I did like the theme of what I wrote though, so there it stays.

FallenSky
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FallenSky
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along with Gab/Crouton

Oh my God Alt...How much can I hate you yet find you so hilarious at the same time at this very instant...This was our little secret about my crappy - and crappy's the perfect word - family name.
Yet, I'm very flattered someone still cheers me up and think of me as a good poet, than you very much alty.

As for this marvelous thread, I'm very glad to see its appearance upon the AMW. I'll pay regular visits here, for I consider you to be one - if not the best - poet on armorgames.
Regarding your first poem, I can clearly see how it's similar to Poe's writings...Sends me back to my old highschool's readings ^^.

Parsat
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Parsat
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This is a curious one, with an alternating iambic tetrameter/pentameter. A bit loose to make compromise with diction. If you've played or heard Chopin's Fantasie-Impromptu, you might understand the imagery.

Thoughts While Playing Fantasie-Impromptu
In rhythmic time I press the keys,
But frustration mounts as I break the chain
Of notes that come and seem to freeze
My dull'd fingers, notes bursting forth, sustained.
Among the faltering notes I hear
The crashing waves of the tempestuous sea:
Waves smashing forth upon the pier,
And wet water streaming, trickling down. He
Who filled the oceans rages now,
Palpable as the agitated spray.
But soon it fades, his rainbow vow
Holds still, passed down unfading to this day.
The sea now calmly teems with life
From animalcules to the largest beast--
Graceful, with calls that show no strife--
Floating placid in a current of peace.
But cycles come and cycles go
And yet again a storm arrives to brew,
To run its course, what do you know--
Underwater the fury is subdued.

And still this life glides blissful, free,
As my fingers leave the keys.

Parsat
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Parsat
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I also want to use this thread to share examples of good poetry (or at least what I consider good poetry). In this case, the only poem so far that has brought tears to my eyes. It's by Octavio Paz, a Mexican poet. More amazingly, this poem is a translation into English from the original Spanish, which particularly amazed me. It was adapted into a choral piece by Eric Whitacre, which definitely deserves a listen as well.

In any case, here's the poem:


Stretched out on the grass,
a boy and a girl.
Savoring their oranges,
giving their kisses like waves exchanging foam.

Stretched out on the beach,
a boy and a girl.
Savoring their limes,
giving their kisses like clouds exchanging foam.

Stretched out underground,
a boy and a girl.
Saying nothing, never kissing,
giving silence for silence.


What makes this a good poem? To me it's the way the last stanza breaks the pattern that it has barely established, as if some terrible act choked off an innocent love before it could really begin. It does take three to establish a pattern, after all. The structure and minimalism is very well done, and serves a purpose, not done just to fulfill some sort of counterculture. That last line, too, is one of the most haunting lines I've read. Truly a masterpiece.
Parsat
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Parsat
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A very short poem I wrote in a matter of moments as a tetrameter exercise. Note, however, the sudden shift to pentameter at the end. To me tetrameter is the meter of love, but pentameter is the meter of emotion and human nature. It is in human nature to indict, is it not?

Where once our fingers intertwined,
I now grasp cold air left behind.
Where once I drank deep of your kiss,
No draught but air falls on these lips.
Where once in eyes I saw your soul,
The air has snatched them as its toll.
Where once love gave me full inspire,
It hurts to breathe, to know this airy liar.

Parsat
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Parsat
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Well, here's another one. It is also in iambic tetrameter, and was inspired by a recent travel through DeviantArt's poetry section.

The Apocalypse of Modern Poetry
I walk with softened feet across
A land full changed by moody times:
What once was green like sunlit moss
Is ash now, like forbidden rimes.

A flow as rivers gurgling past
Smooth rocks to tumble as a fall
Is now a trickle of times passed,
Sucked dry and never drunk at all.

Machines they are, of iron made,
But dull, without incisive edge--
No master lives to wield a blade
More noble than a common dredge.

They call it freedom to make do
With any hodgepodge of strung words
And call it &quotoetry," this strew
Of mindless metaphor, and herds
Of base emotions substanceless,
Indicative of no finesse.

But though the ground be scorched and burned,
Old roots still live though they be spurned.

Hypermnestra
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Wow.
I really...have no other word for it. Simply amazing. Although, just one thing, I find it interesting that you speak in an elder tense or tongue as opposed to a more modern one.
For example, a line from your most recent work, "old roots still live though they be spurned", you use "be" instead of "are". I was just curious why you write in this tone? Is it something picked up from reading too many old books, or do you intentionally write in this manner so as to set the tone for the piece?

Parsat
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Parsat
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It's the way English flows for me. Iambic tetrameter flows readily from my mind, and in this case "be" came up instead of "are." Now that you alert me to it, I would have to say that using the latter would be very droll indeed. To use the technical term, I would want to channel the subjunctive mood. The connotations between "be" and "are" are very different, after all: One is emotional, while the other is factual.

As a trend, I don't know if I speak in an elder tense. In my sonnets, I do use Shakespearian and archaic English to marry the style with the language. Aside from that, I don't think I do. Uncommon English, perhaps, but not elder English.

Hypermnestra
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Hypermnestra
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It's the way English flows for me. Iambic tetrameter flows readily from my mind, and in this case "be" came up instead of "are."

Makes sense to me. Sometimes I scrap meter in favor of what sounds right...usually in the case of my more whimsical poems(Ninja Spy Science Guy and The Damsel In Distress come to mind).
Now that you alert me to it, I would have to say that using the latter would be very droll indeed.

I think that it would be excellent either way.
To use the technical term, I would want to channel the subjunctive mood.

In...English...por favor. 0.o
The connotations between "be" and "are" are very different, after all: One is emotional, while the other is factual.

Quite true.

Also; thou hast(ha) inspired me to write a romantic sonnet, which is way out of my normal comfort zone. It's fairly traditional Italian, and cliche to the max >.<
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