1st edit Armagh
A place where saints and scholars made their home,
yet you and I now live in homes apart
where spires great adorn horizon’s line,
but you and I now meddle in our feuds.
Where streets bend through the solid brick
and we flow freely through them now as one
like blood inside a single body's veins
yet we bleed green or orange never red
Here Patrick built his church upon a hill
for Christians there to make it cardinal.
This cross shaped edifice of ochre stone
the place of my religion but not yours.
Your gothic church is on another hill
a larger structure, with two steeples great
each like an angel guarding you within,
but carefully watching me there without.
We look for a leader who can unite
a noble king of old lies here to rest
uniting our whole island for a time
But he was buried in my church, not yours.
For we make our claims over diff'rent men
like the warrior who fought for this ancient land
at the place of Navan fort and mound
where this hound of ulster once did reside.
There our forefathers ancient, great and wise
spoke myths and lore from their memories depths:
Cuchullain is the loud shout that they cry.
But we fight to make our claim over him.
We turn to reason and to our libraries
mine is a great georgian library house
while yours a modern house of lit’rature
for we are sep'rate in our learning here.
We both love football but have diff'rent rules
mine you call soccer, yours Gaelic football
we go to our very own stadiums,
which stand in sep'rate communities.
But we share the same stars, sun, moon and sky
and our Planetarium is for all
where we both marvel at the glory seen
which lifts us up above our petty feuds.
When darkened heaven gives down its light
a hundred million eyes watch and discern
at reasons why we argue and dispute
but the celestial bodies roar are aloof.
The centre of this city is the Mall
where crimson orb is thrown to lowered bat
where people walk in and out of its place
like tiny cells inside a human heart.
There our memorials remember those who died
for British kings you never called your own
but for a city that we cherish now
and that is the thing that unites us both.
Hey Mark,
I'm hardly an expert on Ireland, but I'll try my best to give you some useful feedback. First of all, there are some parts in this poem that I really enjoyed. My biggest suggestions would have to do with your wording in spots and some of you choices in line structure/rhythm. I'll explain more below:
(05-02-2017, 06:57 AM)Mark Cecil Wrote: [ -> ]Armagh
A place where Saints and scholars made their home, -This line is in nice iambics.
but where you and I live in homes apart -Is this line also supposed to be in iambics? The "you and" doesn't work for me as an iambic. I keep wanting to put the stress/emphasis on the "I" that comes next. Plus, I was always told that the word that is stressed in an iambic should be a strong word, which "and" isn't. I'm guilty of doing this myself when I write in iambics, so I feel a bit guilty commenting on it.
where spires great adorn horizon’s line, -I like this line. The wording creates a nice image in my mind.
but where you and I meddle in our feuds.
Where streets bend through the solid brick
and we flow freely through them now as one
like blood inside a single creature -Why is the city a creature? Creature sounds a bit negative, and it is also a bit vague.
yet we bleed green or orange never red -Is the period left out on purpose here?
Here Patrick built his church upon a hill
for christians there to make it cardinal. -Is Christians lower-cased on purpose?
This cross shaped edifice of ochre stone
the place of my religion but not yours.
Your gothic church is on another hill
a Larger structure, with two steeples great
each like an angel guarding you within,
but carefully watching me there without. -I like the last two lines here. The double nature of the angel is a wonderful image.
We look for a leader who can unite
for a king of old lies here to rest -I don't know much about Irish history. Why was this person a "king of old lies"?
he united this island of ours for a time
But he was buried in my church, not yours.
Yet perhaps we can look back further
to a warrior who fought for this ancient land -How is a warrior going to unite people today? May be my lack of Irish history knowledge might be the reason for me asking, but I think this could be explored more.
to the place of Navan fort and mount
where this hound of ulster once did reside.
There our forefathers ancient, great and old -It's a bit repetitive to have "ancient" and "old" in the same line.
spoke myths and lore from the depths of their souls: -"depths of their souls" sounds almost cliche to me
Cuchullain is the loud shout that they cry.
But we fight to make our claim over him.
We turn to reason and to our libraries
Mine is a great Georgian Library house -Is "Mine" capitalized on purpose?
while yours a modern house of lit’rature
for we are separate in our learning here.
We both love football but have different rules
ours you call soccer, yours Gaelic football
we go to different stadiums, which now
stand safe in our divided communities. -I found this stanza interesting because I always assumed that everyone in Europe called soccer "football."
Yet we share the same moon, stars, sun and sky
and our Planetarium is for all
where we both marvel at the glory seen -I think three lines make a wonderful point. I just think you need to explore it more. May be add another stanza and really dive into this idea more.
lifting us above our petty feud
And the heart of this city is the Mall-If this is the heart, how does it relate back to your blood simile in stanza two? How does the Mall pump these people around? You might want to think about describing it a little differently.
where crimson orb is thrown to lowered bat
where we both walk around surrounding paths
and leisurely we lie down to rest
There our memorials remember those who died
for British kings you never called your own
but for a city that we cherish now
and that is the thing that unites us both -I like this stanza. It highlights the differences, but then ends with a positive thought.
Overall, I think you have a nice poem here. It needs some tweaking, but there's quite a bit worth keeping. I look forward to reading your next draft.
Keep writing,
Richard
Hope the first edit address some of the things you highlighted.
Hey Mark,
I thoroughly enjoyed your edit of this poem. I think you addressed most of the issues I mentioned very well. I'll don't have much to say for a stanza by stanza break down, but I will comment on some of your edits and additional stanzas below:
(05-02-2017, 06:57 AM)Mark Cecil Wrote: [ -> ]1st edit Armagh
A place where Saints and scholars made their home,
yet you and I now live in homes apart-The iambics work much better now in this stanza.
where spires great adorn horizon’s line,
but you and I now meddle in our feuds.
Where streets bend through the solid brick
and we flow freely through them now as one
like blood inside a single being
yet we bleed green or orange never red
Here Patrick built his church upon a hill
for Christians there to make it cardinal.
This cross shaped edifice of ochre stone
the place of my religion but not yours.
Your gothic church is on another hill
a larger structure, with two steeples great
each like an angel guarding you within,
but carefully watching me there without.
We look for a leader who can unite
a noble king of old lies here to rest
he united our island for a time
But he was buried in my church, not yours.
For we make our claims over different men
like the warrior who fought for this ancient land
at the place of Navan fort and mount
where this hound of ulster once did reside.
There our forefathers ancient, great and wise
spoke myths and lore from their memories depths:
Cuchullain is the loud shout that they cry.
But we fight to make our claim over him.
We turn to reason and to our libraries
mine is a great Georgian Library house
while yours a modern house of lit’rature
for we are separate in our learning here.
We both love football but have different rules
mine you call soccer, yours Gaelic football
we go to different stadiums, which now
stand safe in our divided community.
But we share the same moon, stars, sun and sky
and our Planetarium is for all
where we both marvel at the glory seen
lifting us above our petty feud.
When darkened heaven gives down its light -I love the wording in this line. It's beautiful with its paradoxical nature.
a hundred million eyes watch and discern
at reasons why we argue and dispute
then the celestial bodies roar and laugh. -How do celestial bodies roar and laugh?
For I’m the tiny land of Lilliput,
and you the island of blefuscu small
And we fight how the egg must be eaten -This line sums up human nature perfectly.
However we share a city common.
The centre of this city is the Mall
where crimson orb is thrown to lowered bat
where people walk in and out of that place
like tiny cells inside a human heart. -This line is better than what you had. However, in the same poem you've compared the people in this city to blood and cells. I would try to come up with a different simile for this line.
There our memorials remember those who died
for British kings you never called your own
but for a city that we cherish now
and that is the thing that unites us both. -I still like this ending.
I think you've still got a few minor tweaks to work on, but this poem is coming along nicely.
Cheers,
Richard