I wish that I could find the words
to move my heart and rend my soul.
When death becomes a two-edged sword
the deepest cuts will make me whole…
but Auden found them all.

I wish that I could write a verse
that forces eyes to see the Sun;
to look but once and not rehearse
for life, when all plans come undone…
but Davies wrote them all.

I wish that I could say a prayer
in praise of God who gave the brush
to colour in our living layer
in brindled, dappled, freckled flush…
but Hopkins said it all.

I wish…I wish…that I could see
whatever else is hiding there.
To shine a light that I might be,
before I die, alive…aware.
but Thomas saw it all.

Tectak
2014

i like the poem and the format though i'm not sure on the [but's]
is the last stanza dylan thomas, i can't think of anything but his poem when light breaks where no sun shines. other than the one nit i fount it to be a simple and decent little homage poem.
wish i could have been more help with my feedback

(07-30-2014, 11:26 PM)billy Wrote:  i like the poem and the format though i'm not sure on the [but's]
is the last stanza dylan thomas, i can't think of anything but his poem when light breaks where no sun shines. other than the one nit i fount it to be a simple and decent little homage poem.
wish i could have been more help with my feedback

Homage my arse These bastards used up all the best lines and left me with nothingDylan? Yes. Do not go gentle in to that good night.
Thanks for the comments, though. Maybe now you can see why "but".
Best,
Tom

bugger, yes. i should have saw the poem without being told.

hi tectak,

this is exceedingly clever and well thought out. stanza two is a fave (and so is Davies...) and wrapping it all up with Thomas is perfect.

if i had one thing to critique (well maybe not so much critique as comment on), it would be the rhymes in stanza 3, lines 1 & 3:

I wish that I could say a prayer
in praise of God who gave the brush
to colour in our living layer
in brindled, dappled, freckled flush…
but Hopkins said it all.

i pronounce prayer as one (albeit very long) syllable and as /pre(ə)r/
while layer is two syllables and /ˈlāər/

this is due to my terrible American English, most likely, but it's how i read it and i keep stumbling over it,
as it's affecting the meter. it's such a minor point though and i hate even bringing it up because i'm so fond of the poem overall.

anywho, i very much enjoyed this and i like that you pull from several eras
(Georgian, Victorian, modern/romantic/neo-romantic/however-you-want-to-classify-Thomas)...it really does make for a well-rounded read.

(07-30-2014, 09:46 PM)tectak Wrote:  I wish that I could find the words
to move my heart and rend my soul.
When death becomes a two-edged sword
the deepest cuts will make me whole…
but Auden found them all. cliche city with these last two lines; the deepest cut and two-edged sword. Actually, the poem as a whole is full of them. I guess you are conjuring themes from other Author's poems... I also cant seem to find meaning to dropping the names, except to give those authors "props".

I wish that I could write a verse
that forces eyes to see the Sun;
to look but once and not rehearse
for life, when all plans come undone…
but Davies wrote them all.

I wish that I could say a prayer
in praise of God who gave the brush
to colour in our living layer
in brindled, dappled, freckled flush…
but Hopkins said it all.

I wish…I wish…that I could see
whatever else is hiding there.
To shine a light that I might be,
before I die, alive…aware.
but Thomas saw it all.

Tectak
2014

The good from this poem, for me, came from having to lookup the names listed. I guess. This poem is written solely for students of poetry and scholars. Otherwise it has no meaning, I think. I wish there was some movement in the poem away from wishing.

(08-07-2014, 11:29 AM)Qdeathstar Wrote:  

(07-30-2014, 09:46 PM)tectak Wrote:  I wish that I could find the words
to move my heart and rend my soul.
When death becomes a two-edged sword
the deepest cuts will make me whole…
but Auden found them all. cliche city with these last two lines; the deepest cut and two-edged sword. Actually, the poem as a whole is full of them. I guess you are conjuring themes from other Author's poems... I also cant seem to find meaning to dropping the names, except to give those authors "props".

I wish that I could write a verse
that forces eyes to see the Sun;
to look but once and not rehearse
for life, when all plans come undone…
but Davies wrote them all.

I wish that I could say a prayer
in praise of God who gave the brush
to colour in our living layer
in brindled, dappled, freckled flush…
but Hopkins said it all.

I wish…I wish…that I could see
whatever else is hiding there.
To shine a light that I might be,
before I die, alive…aware.
but Thomas saw it all.

Tectak
2014

The good from this poem, for me, came from having to lookup the names listed. I guess. This poem is written solely for students of poetry and scholars. Otherwise it has no meaning, I think. I wish there was some movement in the poem away from wishing.

hi q,
you are, of course, quite correct in your assessment of the piece...you and your, though,are the moot words. Yes, this a crie de coeur. The poems cited are of greater relevance to me than to you, cliches have to start somewhere but I plead guilty anyway. I am envious of those poets named for some of what they wrote...but I feel the same way about some of your stuff. Frankly, I feel the same way about every poet who writes something greater than me...and that's what it's all about.
Best,
tectak

(08-12-2014, 06:56 AM)tectak Wrote:  

(08-07-2014, 11:29 AM)Qdeathstar Wrote:  

(07-30-2014, 09:46 PM)tectak Wrote:  I wish that I could find the words
to move my heart and rend my soul.
When death becomes a two-edged sword
the deepest cuts will make me whole…
but Auden found them all. cliche city with these last two lines; the deepest cut and two-edged sword. Actually, the poem as a whole is full of them. I guess you are conjuring themes from other Author's poems... I also cant seem to find meaning to dropping the names, except to give those authors "props".

I wish that I could write a verse
that forces eyes to see the Sun;
to look but once and not rehearse
for life, when all plans come undone…
but Davies wrote them all.

I wish that I could say a prayer
in praise of God who gave the brush
to colour in our living layer
in brindled, dappled, freckled flush…
but Hopkins said it all.

I wish…I wish…that I could see
whatever else is hiding there.
To shine a light that I might be,
before I die, alive…aware.
but Thomas saw it all.

Tectak
2014

The good from this poem, for me, came from having to lookup the names listed. I guess. This poem is written solely for students of poetry and scholars. Otherwise it has no meaning, I think. I wish there was some movement in the poem away from wishing.

hi q,
you are, of course, quite correct in your assessment of the piece...you and your, though,are the moot words. Yes, this a crie de coeur. The poems cited are of greater relevance to me than to you, cliches have to start somewhere but I plead guilty anyway. I am envious of those poets named for some of what they wrote...but I feel the same way about some of your stuff. Frankly, I feel the same way about every poet who writes something greater than me...and that's what it's all about.
Best,
tectak

They don't make 'em like you anymore tec. You are such a gent, I carry a tissue to all of your posts.

I like the poem. What's with all the ellipses? And the meter in L4 of the davies stanza?

(08-12-2014, 07:06 AM)trueenigma Wrote:  

(08-12-2014, 06:56 AM)tectak Wrote:  

(08-07-2014, 11:29 AM)Qdeathstar Wrote:  The good from this poem, for me, came from having to lookup the names listed. I guess. This poem is written solely for students of poetry and scholars. Otherwise it has no meaning, I think. I wish there was some movement in the poem away from wishing.

hi q,
you are, of course, quite correct in your assessment of the piece...you and your, though,are the moot words. Yes, this a crie de coeur. The poems cited are of greater relevance to me than to you, cliches have to start somewhere but I plead guilty anyway. I am envious of those poets named for some of what they wrote...but I feel the same way about some of your stuff. Frankly, I feel the same way about every poet who writes something greater than me...and that's what it's all about.
Best,
tectak

They don't make 'em like you anymore tec. You are such a gent, I carry a tissue to all of your posts.

I like the poem. What's with all the ellipses? And the meter in L4 of the davies stanza?

I like ellipses...especially when the em dash is missing on thumb keyboard. Some say that they broke the mold before they made me:
I don't see the meter problem. Is it accentual?If yes, say "...ALL plans." not "all plans"
tectak
Auden's "Stop all the Clocks" cracks me up.
Davie's "Leisure" likewise.
Hopkins "Pied Beauty" comes out of the joy of pure observation...difficult to pen without losing something in the translation.
And of course, Dylan Thomas's " Do not go Gentle" rounds the whole enviable thing off nicely.
All bastards I wanted to say that.( Though as an erudite friend of mine commented (when I said "I wish I had said that"), succinctly and perniciously, " Oh, you will. You will")

---

(08-07-2014, 08:08 AM)cjchaffin Wrote:  hi tectak,

this is exceedingly clever and well thought out. stanza two is a fave (and so is Davies...) and wrapping it all up with Thomas is perfect.

if i had one thing to critique (well maybe not so much critique as comment on), it would be the rhymes in stanza 3, lines 1 & 3:

I wish that I could say a prayer
in praise of God who gave the brush
to colour in our living layer
in brindled, dappled, freckled flush…
but Hopkins said it all.

i pronounce prayer as one (albeit very long) syllable and as /pre(ə)r/
while layer is two syllables and /ˈlāər/

this is due to my terrible American English, most likely, but it's how i read it and i keep stumbling over it,
as it's affecting the meter. it's such a minor point though and i hate even bringing it up because i'm so fond of the poem overall.

anywho, i very much enjoyed this and i like that you pull from several eras
(Georgian, Victorian, modern/romantic/neo-romantic/however-you-want-to-classify-Thomas)...it really does make for a well-rounded read.

Thank you. It is unfair if layer and prayer are there, but who's to care if it's a rare occurence. Slant rhymes?
Very best,
tectak

I think the 3rd verse and especially prayer/layer are the best part of the poem. The other rhymes are all very pat, a little variety helps

to colour in our living layer - a really nice line.

What I stumbled on most was the end lines. I'd have preferred an extra couple of syllables, but the bastards' names don't easily fit do they? Shame.

(08-12-2014, 07:17 PM)ray Wrote:  I think the 3rd verse and especially prayer/layer are the best part of the poem. The other rhymes are all very pat, a little variety helps

to colour in our living layer - a really nice line.

What I stumbled on most was the end lines. I'd have preferred an extra couple of syllables, but the bastards' names don't easily fit do they? Shame.

You mean....

I wish that I could find the words
to move my heart and rend my soul.
When death becomes a two-edged sword
the deepest cuts will make me whole…
but Auden found them all, the sod;
Auden found them all.

I wish that I could write a verse
that forces eyes to see the Sun;
to look but once and not rehearse
for life, when all plans come undone…
but Davies wrote them all, the swine;
Davies wrote them all.

I wish that I could say a prayer
in praise of God who gave the brush
to colour in our living layer
in brindled, dappled, freckled flush…
but Hopkins said it all, the twat;
Hopkins said it all.

I wish…I wish…that I could see
whatever else is hiding there.
To shine a light that I might be,
before I die, alive…aware.
but Thomas saw it all, the jerk;
Dylan saw it all.



Thanks ray
Best,
tectak

Tectak
2014

ha!! i just snorted at my work desk. it's bad enough my coworkers think i'm nuts. now they have "snorts like a warthog" to add to the list of grievances.

(08-12-2014, 06:56 AM)tectak Wrote:  you are, of course, quite correct in your assessment of the piece...you and your, though,are the moot words.

Haaayyyy, is that an insult wrapped in a compliment??????

(08-14-2014, 03:24 AM)Qdeathstar Wrote:  

(08-12-2014, 06:56 AM)tectak Wrote:  you are, of course, quite correct in your assessment of the piece...you and your, though,are the moot words.

Haaayyyy, is that an insult wrapped in a compliment??????

Straw...no. Just a compliment

---

(08-13-2014, 01:03 AM)cjchaffin Wrote:  ha!! i just snorted at my work desk. it's bad enough my coworkers think i'm nuts. now they have "snorts like a warthog" to add to the list of grievances.

I haven't snorted at anything for years...what the hell did your workdesk do to you?
Best,
tectak

cheeky

Thought I'd get rid of those 'cliches' for you

(07-30-2014, 09:46 PM)tectak Wrote:  Tom Tectak took a lot of words
and put them in a mixing bowl
He stirred them with a paper sword
and wrapped them in a sushi roll
where Auden found them all.

Tom Tectak wrote the universe
that grew until it blocked the sun;
and from the shade we heard him curse
all metaphor. Poetry is done
since Davies wrote it all.

Tom Tectak offered up a prayer
but said it in an awful rush
and left before he brushed his hair
I'd tell you of his pretty blush
but Hopkins said it all.

Tom Tectak hid behind the tree
and squatted down, his bottom bare,
to defecate... there was a bee...
I couldn't make this up, I swear
that Thomas saw it all.

See how helpful I am?

<_<

I'm not sure about the homage(s), but I love the figurative language! I like the expression "when death becomes a two -edged sword". Though I am not sure how you meant it, it means a lot to me...how death can have two sides, both being a wound, as well as the balm to soothe it. Great poem!

(08-15-2014, 08:00 AM)Leanne Wrote:  Thought I'd get rid of those 'cliches' for you

(07-30-2014, 09:46 PM)tectak Wrote:  Tom Tectak took a lot of words
and put them in a mixing bowl
He stirred them with a paper sword
and wrapped them in a sushi roll
where Auden found them all.

Tom Tectak wrote the universe
that grew until it blocked the sun;
and from the shade we heard him curse
all metaphor. Poetry is done
since Davies wrote it all.

Tom Tectak offered up a prayer
but said it in an awful rush
and left before he brushed his hair
I'd tell you of his pretty blush
but Hopkins said it all.

Tom Tectak hid behind the tree
and squatted down, his bottom bare,
to defecate... there was a bee...
I couldn't make this up, I swear
that Thomas saw it all.

See how helpful I am?

Hey...go find your own poem! This is plagiarism of concept and that says it all
sincerest form of flattery?

Tom, this is a wonderful poem, brilliant. I don't care for the revised edition...I guess I have lost my sense of humor, not understanding why something beautifully thoughtful and powerful must become a distorted joke. I guess that's just how the PP flies. Congrats on this.
My best always,
Holly