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An agony

My sorrow mine is played out now
No painful ore remains
A kind of joy sneaked in somehow
Old losses now seem gains

I should not seek to find the cause;
I do not need to know.
Relentless, though, poetic laws:
The quiet joys must go.

My smashing pen must shape the real
Until it's wailing song
As simple truth holds small appeal
And happiness is wrong.

Disaster borrowed from afar
Could lend the stuff of verse
But I'll not steal another's star;
The problem could be worse.

I'm running out of paper here,
This nonsense has to end
Without a trace of pain or fear
--Perhaps next time, my friend.

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Jonathan Moore

Jonathan Moore

16 years 3 months ago

Last line

The last line broke the flow for me, how about: -------------------- I’m running out of paper here, This nonsense has to end Without a trace of pain or fear –Perhaps next time my friend. -------------------- Other than that, it took me a bit to get into the spirit of the piece. This is not a criticism as much as a "well done" because it starts out feeling like an "dear God, more angst?" poem and ends as a skewering of the angst format/style. The ABAB rhyme and falling meter (8/6/8/6) is consistent and the end cap words are not entirely obvious so the sing-song value is reduced although i believe it is impossible to remove it entirely in this structure but, as the piece is more satire than angst, part of that satire has got to be the form, meter, and rhyme scheme. I breathed a sigh of relief after about a third of the way through and laughed at the ending, so, again, well done. --Jonathan Annoying the world, one person at a time (Group discounts available)
S

Skumpfsklub

16 years 3 months ago

A good suggestion, I'll incorporate it

You're right, the thing is meant to be sing-song sung and perhaps (in oral presentation) I might even dare a fake country accent to carry the mockery further. I wrote it with a twangy pencil. I stole the shape from Emily Dickinson, though, not from Nashville. She used this form a lot. I'm told (by the compiler of the collected Dickinson I read) that this is called 'common form.' Makes sense: it's VERY easy to work with, and when I do a poem under killtime rules, I want easy form.
L

lyz

16 years 3 months ago

Yep

I really enjoyed this one. Very well written. I have no comment to fault any of it. Well written and well read. Love Lyz. XX
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Skumpfsklub

16 years 3 months ago

Thanks

You're awfully generous with the stars, though, lass. This is a three-star poem. It's solidly on form, and gets a job done, but it's hardly outstanding. (Not that I mind lavish undeserved praise: I just don't want to get addicted to it.) Perry
L

lyz

16 years 3 months ago

Dear Perry

I would give less stars if you want, lol. I did really enjoy reading your poem. I do feel that if you put your poetry out there for others to read, well you will have to suffer the stars if they think it is worthy, lol. Any way, sorry, I should have said welcome back, before, so said it now. Well I will be looking forward to reading more of your work, stars and all, lol. Love Lyz. XX
S

Skumpfsklub

16 years 3 months ago

(slapping at a gnat)

No one sits by a fishin' hole jus' fo' the fish, son; some 'f us comes fo' th' beeah; some fo' th' genial inanity; still othahs because they like complainin' 'bout th' lack o' fish, th' quality of th' beeah in th' coolah, th' lack o' ahce in th' coolah, oah th' bitin' o' th' gnats. ---they coulda brought some they own beeah theyse'ves, by th' way--- Yew c'n be useful if yew c'n find me a ham san'ich an' a pickle.
S

Skumpfsklub

16 years 3 months ago

Why write another faux

Why write another faux comment, you ask? Because the poems I'm doin' that for today have not been visited a hundred times yet---and their 'visits' include a substantial number of 'visits' engendered by my returns to the pieces, and some spurious 'visits' that appear to be artifacts of bugs in the program. So, get used it: I keep recommenting until I feel that the poem has had enough exposure to lend value to the numbers.