Keys jangle at the precipice of fate
Instinctive virtues endeavour to raise their heads
The gloamings mist winds through the straight
And those virtues turn their eyes back to their beds.
So tired
We are lost in our keep
Though all built this mighty edifice
Too many are prone to seductive sleep
The eagle has leapt in petulance
and flown too far.
So tired
We are many, we are few, we are one
The oldest lion has accepted its limitations
Its mind slides though satin into thorn, thorn to shadow.
A bush may burn but only in failing machinations
His pride now has none.
So very tired.
He was many, he was few, he is one
The stars wheel as the wind bites from the east
And while the cold tears at our hearts and minds
We throw the treats of our children to the beast
It devours what we give it, it destroys what it finds.
It doesn’t sleep.
None are any, all are few, I was one.
(09-28-2016, 01:26 PM)FilthyDeluxe Wrote: [ -> ]Keys jangle at the precipice of fate Having read the first poem I'm not sure about this line. how do the keys fit into it? Also 'jangle' jarrs a little with the dramatic tone
Instinctive virtues endeavour to raise their heads 'Instinctive virtues endeavous' is a bit of a mouthful, think of ways to phrase it that are smoother and more accessible
The gloamings mist winds through the straight I think you are missing your apostrophe? gloaming's , yes?
And those virtues turn their eyes back to their beds. Again, don't over complicate, I see what you are saying here, but 'turn their eyes back to their beds' is too long
So tired I like the honesty!
We are lost in our keep I like 'lost in our keep' alot, suggests something archaic and psychological
Though all built this mighty edifice
Too many are prone to seductive sleep
The eagle has leapt in petulance
and flown too far.
So tired
We are many, we are few, we are one
The oldest lion has accepted its limitations Another interesting turn of phrase
Its mind slides though satin into thorn, thorn to shadow.
A bush may burn but only in failing machinations I can see how this line has some links to the rest of this stanza, but it seems a bit out of place.
His pride now has none.
So very tired.
He was many, he was few, he is one
The stars wheel as the wind bites from the east Nice flow here
And while the cold tears at our hearts and minds
We throw the treats of our children to the beast Oh lordy, what is the subject of this line? I assume the children are being thrown to the beast? Again, phrasing.
It devours what we give it, it destroys what it finds. 'it devours what we give it' is more interesting that 'it destroys what it finds'
It doesn’t sleep.
None are any, all are few, I was one. I don't really like this line at the end, nor do I care for its various iterations throughout the piece. To me it only added confusion.
Hi there, I hope I haven't gone too deep on the crits for a novice post, do tell me if so, if not I hope it is useful. There are some interesting things in this poem, but I think at times your phrasing gets the better of them and there is also too much imagery and more abstractions than you need. I like the dramatic psychological elements, but I think they need some focus to frame them. I like the idea of the keep and the lion, and how all the people there struggle with battles including tiredness. If I were you I would probably decide which abstract imagery is the most important, then build around that, jettisoning anything which distracts from these key ideas. Look forward to reading an edit.
Oh and also I assume your title is meant to be 'Sleep through this' ? Always check the spelling
I agree in large part with what Donald said above. The piece has a good core, but it gets a touch too wordy and has a bit of an inconsistent tone (to me at least). I tend to take this approach when dealing with focused meter/rhyme: if the reader has an acute sense of the author trying to force a rhyme, then the lines should usually be re-worked as much as possible. Obviously this isn't always easy, and I would say taking some extra time to write a few other stanzas to test could result in a better flow.
I know in my case I sometimes get target fixation, and once I have started with an image or idea I get committed to finding a rhyme. Unfortunately sometimes it's worth putting it aside (not throwing it out) and seeing what else might fit. I hope that makes sense.
If I were going to pick a place here to suggest that, it would be the below lines:
The oldest lion has accepted its limitations
Its mind slides though satin into thorn, thorn to shadow.
A bush may burn but only in failing machinations
His pride now has none.
You might set a goal of working on those in particular and see if you're able to rework the tone and rhyme there in a way that will improve the flow of the whole composition. In all, I really like where this is heading. Make some edits and you may have a nice piece here.
Regards,
JJ
Fantastic feedback and I most certainly did misspell the title....
I've had a crack at editing based on the feedback. It probably helps to go into what I'm trying to convey and see if once you know it's more, or less, effective. I'm trying to get across my view of our western society's failings. The Eagle is the USA and the Lion Great Britain. I'm trying to portray how I feel we are losing some of our strengths to technology, entertainment and apathy. The cycle of cultures throughout history - Wooden clogs going up the stairs, silk slippers coming down. I'm worried we have the slippers on. The last stanza is probably a bit of a nasty shot at the situation in the Middle East, the beast is ISIS, the treats are the freedoms we have earned and that we have lived without fear in our home countries for so long and now terrorism is reaching right in there.
Keys jangle at the precipice of fate
our virtues endeavour to raise their heads
The gloaming's mist winds through the straight
those hopes turn back to their beds.
So tired
We are lost in our keep
Though all feel owed their inheritance
Too many are prone to seductive sleep
The eagle has leapt in arrogance
and flown too far.
So tired
The oldest lion has accepted its limitations
Its mind slides though satin into thorn, thorn to shadow.
The bush burned to its foundations
His pride now has none.
So very tired.
The stars wheel as the wind bites from the east
And while the cold tears at our hearts,
We throw the treats of our children to the beast
It devours what we give it, breathing dark arts
It doesn’t sleep.
I like your style
(09-28-2016, 01:26 PM)FilthyDeluxe Wrote: [ -> ]Keys jangle at the precipice of fate
Instinctive virtues endeavour to raise their heads
The gloamings mist winds through the straight
And those virtues turn their eyes back to their beds.
So tired
We are lost in our keep
Though all built this mighty edifice
Too many are prone to seductive sleep
The eagle has leapt in petulance
and flown too far. i think for patterns sake you should keep this four lines
So tired
We are many, we are few, we are one
The oldest lion has accepted its limitations
Its mind slides though satin into thorn, thorn to shadow.
A bush may burn but only in failing machinations i didnt like this line, but bush relates to thorn, burn to shadow
His pride now has none. his personal pride has no failing machinations?
So very tired.
He was many, he was few, he is one does this switch from all who share tiredom to you specifically?
The stars wheel as the wind bites from the east
And while the cold tears at our hearts and minds
We throw the treats of our children to the beast treats of our children? candy keeps us awake?
It devours what we give it, it destroys what it finds. and you lose me in these two lines. particularly this one,
It doesn’t sleep. just tired nice
None are any, all are few, I was one. and though i like the idea what you're doing here, its too lennonesque, must be really tired
Keys jangle at the precipice of fate
Instinctive virtues endeavour to raise their heads
The gloamings mist winds through the straight
And those virtues turn their eyes back to their beds.
So tired
We are lost in our keep
Though all built this mighty edifice
Too many are prone to seductive sleep
The eagle has leapt in petulance
and flown too far.
So tired
We are many, we are few, we are one
The oldest lion has accepted its limitations
Its mind slides though satin into thorn, thorn to shadow.
A bush may burn but only in failing machinations
His pride now has none.
So very tired.
He was many, he was few, he is one
The stars wheel as the wind bites from the east
And while the cold tears at our hearts and minds
We throw the treats of our children to the beast
It devours what we give it, it destroys what it finds.
It doesn’t sleep.
None are any, all are few, I was one.
I love the imagery you have of the eagle as America, the lion as Britain, and disturbances in the east as the beast. I like the images of the keys jangling at the precipice of fate at the start as it gives a picture of a new door about to be open. I like the repetition of how each force is succumbed to sleep but was a bit lost with the various phrases such as "we are many, we are few, we are one," "He was many, he was few, he was one," "None are any, all are few" I don't exactly know what you mean by them.
The imagery of this poem is powerdul. I can really feel the exhaustion and loneliness, but it isn't too "woe is me" to be a put off. The only line I don't understand is:
"The oldest lion has accepted its limitations
Its mind slides though satin into thorn, thorn to shadow.
A bush may burn but only in failing machinations
His pride now has none."
It doesn't make sense to me with the rest of the poem, and I feel like it was a filler to rhyme with "limitations"
Just a random word to toss out there, but "lamentations" could work with something. Although it might be a little too similar to "limitations" for comfort.
(09-28-2016, 01:26 PM)FilthyDeluxe Wrote: [ -> ]Keys jangle at the precipice of fate
Instinctive virtues endeavour to raise their heads
The gloamings mist winds through the straight I think the use of gloaming obscures meaning. Twilight means the same thing and doesn't detract in my opinion
And those virtues turn their eyes back to their beds. "back to bed" could shorten this
So tired
We are lost in our keep
Though all built this mighty edifice
Too many are prone to seductive sleep
The eagle has leapt in petulance Why in petulance?
and flown too far.
So tired
We are many, we are few, we are one What does this have to do with the poem?
The oldest lion has accepted its limitations
Its mind slides though satin into thorn, thorn to shadow.
A bush may burn but only in failing machinations
His pride now has none.
So very tired.
He was many, he was few, he is one
The stars wheel as the wind bites from the east
And while the cold tears at our hearts and minds
We throw the treats of our children to the beast
It devours what we give it, it destroys what it finds. I like this stanza a lot
It doesn’t sleep. I think you could end here nicely
None are any, all are few, I was one. Again, I don't really understand what this adds/how it fits in
This is a really nice poem. I think sometimes your verbiage obscures the meaning. I also think you need more of a focus. It's super abstract and I don't really understand your point in a lot of places. That said, the phrasing is really beautiful at times. You have a great base on your hands.