Exit


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Thread: Exit

  1. #1
    WF Veteran Gofa's Avatar
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    Exit

    When I hear the knock
    The sirens song
    Who will answer
    Measure right and wrong


    Which me will stand
    Arise to that door
    Stepping away
    Body on the floor


    Alas poor Yoric
    My turn on this spot
    In my heart I grieve
    Cause I knew me not


    This string of happenstance
    I’ve called my life
    Just a series of notes
    In the key of strife


    Moving towards stillness
    Here as I type
    Im embarrassed in truth
    As i fade to night


    A mind full of chickens
    All screaming and shrill
    Will it take my death
    To have learnt to be still
    Last edited by Gofa; February 11th, 2020 at 03:02 PM.
    We are the measure of all things. And the beauty of our creation, of our art is proportional to the beauty of ourselves of our souls. Jonas Mekas

  2. #2
    Gofa

    There'a a lot in this poem! I am impressed by the way you suggest to us in yur first stanza that the voice of the poem is alienated from a sense of responsibility. It is as though someone else is expected to judge.

    I am not sure I am reading the first line of your second stanza correctly; 'will stand' would make more sense to me than 'with stand', assuming 'stand' is a verb rather than noun.

    The chickens in your final stanza demand attention and offer reason for embarrassment in the penultimate verse. Your last two lines appear as an unmarked question that distill unlearnt lessons in life.

    Alas, observer. I knew this way too.
    Last edited by Pulse; March 3rd, 2020 at 10:21 AM. Reason: missing 'to'
    Kind regards,
    Hidden Content Katrina
    Hidden Content
    Choreographing Calligraphy


  3. #3
    WF Veteran Gofa's Avatar
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    Katrina
    thank you yes will Not with and measure not measured

    my close friend’s father in law was dying as i wrote and passed some 30 minutes after i posted this

    i started with him and ended up with me I guess

    poetry to me is discussions, arguments or celebrations regarding life with God whom occasionally manages to put a word into a my busy conversation

    peace in our time
    peace in my mind

    lines from another poem
    neither seems simple as of yet
    We are the measure of all things. And the beauty of our creation, of our art is proportional to the beauty of ourselves of our souls. Jonas Mekas

  4. #4
    Member Irwin's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Gofa View Post
    Lived with a mind full of chickens
    All screaming and shrill
    Has it taken my death
    To have learnt to be still
    I like the imagery of this stanza... a mindful of screaming chickens. That's a great metaphor!

    The first line seems too long, though. Maybe rewrite it something like:

    Lived with a mind
    full
    of chickens all shrill


    or you could actually leave out "Lived with"

    A mind full of chickens
    All screaming and shrill

    The reader would still get the gist of what you're saying.

    Or you could leave it the way it is.

  5. #5
    WF Veteran Gofa's Avatar
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    Keep it simple yes

    A mind full of chickens
    All screaming and shrill

    less is more “I've lived with” basically redundant

    thanks
    We are the measure of all things. And the beauty of our creation, of our art is proportional to the beauty of ourselves of our souls. Jonas Mekas

  6. #6
    WF Veteran Gofa's Avatar
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    Just an aside
    honestly
    how do you unthank someone
    there is a poem in that thought alone
    We are the measure of all things. And the beauty of our creation, of our art is proportional to the beauty of ourselves of our souls. Jonas Mekas

  7. #7
    Though written in quatrains, the poem is, essentially, heroic couplets, a form that is inherently comic, but the subject matter here is tragic. What to do with such a paradox? Scream with the chickens? Laugh at poor Yoric? Weep with the absurdity of it all? A good knee-slapper at the end would light this poem on fire.
    Last edited by TL Murphy; February 15th, 2020 at 03:22 AM.

  8. #8
    WF Veteran Gofa's Avatar
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    TL additional verse as requested with knee slapper

    For in Death’s kitchen
    diced chickens on slate
    When Death throws the party
    Its best bring a plate
    We are the measure of all things. And the beauty of our creation, of our art is proportional to the beauty of ourselves of our souls. Jonas Mekas

  9. #9
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    Quote Originally Posted by Gofa View Post
    When I hear the knock
    The sirens song
    Who will answer
    Measure right and wrong


    Which me will stand
    Arise to that door
    Stepping away
    Body on the floor


    Alas poor Yoric
    My turn on this spot
    In my heart I grieve
    Cause I knew me not


    This string of happenstance
    I’ve called my life
    Just a series of notes
    In the key of strife


    Moving towards stillness
    Here as I type
    Im embarrassed in truth
    As i fade to night


    A mind full of chickens
    All screaming and shrill
    Will it take my death
    To have learnt to be still
    I like the beauty of the poem! You got something here! Interesting writing, I think it's quite honest and beautiful at the same time, but where are the periods, commas, and the like?

  10. #10
    Greetings eight-legged one.

    You will see much modern poetry unpunctuated, and often with the first word of the line uncapitalised. The lack of capitalisation just formalises the elimination of a convention which had no effect on the reading.

    The lack of all other punctuation introduces possibilities of alternative attribution of qualifiers, double meanings and general ambiguous mayhem. Ambiguity to the poet is as the fog of war is to the general.

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