To Byron

[Leanne]

You need not ponder changes wrought by age,
my vain and venal baron, for the truth
of you is held on time’s ungreying page
and you will dwell eternally in youth.
However deep depravity might sink,
such wings as you were given shall not fail,
though courses may not pass as you would think –
you soar, while pious saints grow old and stale.
Humanity has flaws; the fiery eye
burns deep within, a passion seeking form;
its beauty is the lightning gone awry,
yet only fools and poets ride the storm.
To capture others’ hearts you broke your own
now through their unmourned dust you rise alone.

[Veronique]

I think the sonnet as a form flaws itself--nears
suicide-- but is talked off the ledge by this pane-
gyric which convinces the sonnet that life is worth
living.

Come down. I have tea and a warm blanket.

No one demands that a sonnet be an amplitude of com-
prehension, nor is eloquence its sole possession, nor
overwhelming declamation rudimentary.

The sonnet's natural pose is one of oddness, even when
sonnets were common. Oddness in commonality.

Odd. Odd.

i think odd for the reason a sonnet discerns and displays
a commitment-- two terms describing religious language--
not found in other poetry forms. My feeling this is so is
faint-- so faint I have not even an eidetic blurr.

I'm talking about affect.

I'll tell you what I'm going to do-- I'll run this sonnet
through Aristotle's Figures of Pathos and see what I
can find.
***
The poem

You need not ponder changes wrought by age,
***
apagoresis-- statement designed to inhibit someone from
doing something.[
**
my vain and venal baron, for the truth
**
inter se pugmamtia-- direct addreess to reprove
someone
**
of you is held on time’s ungreying page
and you will dwell eternally in youth.
**
paenismus-- expressing that an evil has been avoided
**
However deep depravity might sink,
such wings as you were given shall not fail,
**
more paenismus
**
though courses may not pass as you would think –
**
ominatio-- something akin to prophecy-- ominous
in tone
**
you soar, while pious saints grow old and stale.
**
epimone-- persistent repetition of the same idea
**
Humanity has flaws; the fiery eye
burns deep within, a passion seeking form;
**
cataplexis-- payback
**
its beauty is the lightning gone awry,
**
exuscitatio-- guiding the audience to the poet's
feeling
**
yet only fools and poets ride the storm.
**
epanorthosis-- amending a thought by altering
**
To capture others’ hearts you broke your own
now through their unmourned dust you rise alone.
**
[i]epitrope-- Here the poet turns things over to the
reader.

**
This was fun...

v

[Todd]

Hi Leanne,

I enjoyed the read. Just a few quick comments.

You need not ponder changes wrought by age,
my vain and venal baron, for the truth
of you is held on time’s ungreying page
and you will dwell eternally in youth.--The first four lines are a really nice setup. It's interesting to think that someones fame eternally locks them into an unchanging stasis. We have a sense of Byron that is locked. I love the phrasing of time's ungreying page especially
However deep depravity might sink,
such wings as you were given shall not fail,--These lines are interesting for the contrast you build. There probably wasn't much that the common person would find admirable in the man, but his art allowed him to rise above it. One thing I thought of for these lines that may not work was to remove the end punctuation after sink and play with the enjambment to show the wings sinking into his back...some way of showing the cost of the ability to rise. Just thinking out loud, it may not be practical
though courses may not pass as you would think –
you soar, while pious saints grow old and stale.--again nice contrast. The saints are presumed to have wings yet it is the depraved one that soars.
Humanity has flaws; the fiery eye
burns deep within, a passion seeking form;
its beauty is the lightning gone awry,--lovely line. I like the use of beauty in the line as it resonates with byron's most famous line. I also like that beauty is the lightning gone awry which can also be a metaphor for his life
yet only fools and poets ride the storm.--maybe (though it's a pretty close thing) substitute that for the
To capture others’ hearts you broke your own--a bit of a cliche, in a broken heart. It doesn't detract much but it does draw a bit of attention to itself
now through their unmourned dust you rise alone.--I love unmourned dust again for the contrast of it all--which for me is one of the keys to the poem

I hope some of that will be helpful to you Leanne.

Best,

Todd

[Leanne]

V, I think my sonnets are more likely to crawl off into the frozen wilderness... all the while hoping for a friendly St Bernard to show up with a nice drop of brandy... It's the cataplexis that makes it all worthwhile, of course Many thanks.

Todd, thanks for giving me so much to think about. I was hoping to subvert the cliche a bit, but it doesn't seem to have worked, so I'm going to wander away and think about a nice substitute.

[Philatone]

hello leanne. I hope this finds you well. some thoughts

You need not ponder changes wrought by age,
my vain and venal baron, for the truth...like the shift from /a/ sounds to /r/s
of you is held on time’s ungreying page..mixed feelings on "ungreying," though I am easily persuaded.
and you will dwell eternally in youth.
However deep depravity might sink,
such wings as you were given shall not fail, ...inversion/ wording is appropriate for the tone. like the contrast brought on by sink and wings
though courses may not pass as you would think –...almost wanted something more specific than "courses", or something to play on "wings" more
you soar, while pious saints grow old and stale....again, building on the contrasts. debated on the caesura, i'm not convinced it's needed, unless you truly think it heightens the division between your object and the saints
Humanity has flaws; the fiery eye
burns deep within, a passion seeking form;
its beauty is the lightning gone awry,...conveys a lack of control
yet only fools and poets ride the storm.....redundant, but I'll let that pass
To capture others’ hearts you broke your own
now through their unmourned dust you rise alone.
...strong couplet to finish. a part of me the two lines to have a slightly stronger connection to the "fools and poets" line, just to have a tiny tiny tiny bit more cohesion (the "hearts" bit caught me off-guard--I suppose "passion" hints at it, though in a sense that it's not being used for), but that's probably just my personal preference working on. thought it was a great work and read; I hope some of this can be useful

[Veronique]

Byron was a celebrity poet.

Hyper-romantic, regarded as mediocre. Matthew Arnold
said, "The fashion of deranging [one's] hair, or of
knotting [one's] neck-handkerchief, or of leaving [one's]
shirt collar unbuttoned."

Mick Jagger loves Byron, but not because Bryon died trying
to free Greece from Ottoman rule-- or was it, Byron died
trying to out-eat the entire Greek Fifth Platoon?
v

[Leanne]

There was no "trying" about it -- he'd already managed it, that's why he had no reserves to find off his septicaemia, which was most likely caused by contact with unsterilised Greek equipment...

---

I'm going to move this to the miscellaneous forum rather than moderate myself, so any more unsavoury comments are not only welcomed but encouraged... So is critique, by the way.

---

Geoff, thank you -- this was written after I'd watched the movie with Jonny Lee Miller as Byron (brilliant, by the way), then read as much of his poetry as I could get hold of (also rather brilliant!). Some words stayed with me more than others, as is usually the case I suppose. The couplet here was inspired by "When We Two Parted":

WHEN we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.

The impetus, though, was "I Would I Were A Careless Child"

I can't believe you're suggesting that poets are less than the wisest of beings :p

[Leanne]

Perfectly ok, we're in the Miscellaneous forum so it's not for critique anymore -- thanks for the comment

[clemonz]

You need not ponder changes wrought by age,
my vain and venal baron, for the truth
of you

"truth / of you", i thought was a nice line break.

more generally, the poem didn't massively appeal to me emotionally, but you made the form seem natural and easy [i maybe can't say why], so perhaps that's just my preference for styles of speech that are more direct than terms like

venal baron.. ungreying page... dwell eternally [in youth]... deep depravity

obviously i'm pretty new, so thanks for the opportunity to learn from you

[Leanne]

Many thanks. Sonnets become far more natural and easy with practise. Iambic pentameter is widely considered the "natural" meter for the English language, but that doesn't mean you can just do it without thinking about it .

There are a lot of practise threads on the site here, where you can play around without being critiqued, they're just there for people to help each other.

[clemonz]

sorry about before btw

[Leanne]

Me too. It's easy to get a bit heated when you're talking about something that you're passionate about.

[Truerenigma]

You need not ponder changes wrought by age,
my vain and venal baron, for the truth
of you is held on time’s ungreying page
and you will dwell eternally in youth.
However deep depravity might sink,
such wings as you were given shall not fail,
though courses may not pass as you would think –
you soar, while pious saints grow old and stale.
Humanity has flaws; the fiery eye
burns deep within, a passion seeking form;
its beauty is the lightning gone awry,
yet only fools and poets ride the storm.
To capture others’ hearts you broke your own
now through their unmourned dust you rise alone.

WHAT? No blushing schoolmarms? I am disappointed.

Nice sonnet btw. Gordon was the original pimp daddy stud. And an awesome poet. I would offer crit but Todd's already done such a fine job I'm hard pressed to add anything . Thanks for posting Leanne. Good times.

[billy]

as a peon (poetically speaking) i can't say anything but loved it. i suppose i could dissect and try to look respectful while doing so but fuck me, why bother. the poem for me is a job done. Byron would hold you to him and say thank you leanne,
i found the poem articulate with lots of good word use, loved the run ons and the superb couplet. the phrase deep depravity is something i've heard many times but so what, in this instance it's perfect for the poem.
i simply enjoyed it. i'd also add, "i'm not jealous" if anything i'm glad you write this well. it gives me please to read such poetry. thanks for the read.

---

i just saw this was originally posted a good while ago, wish i hadn't missed it, it's hogworthy to say the least.

[Leanne]

Thanks chaps -- personally I prefer my Byron limericks to this, since he provides such wonderful fodder for rude rhymes, but a sonnet does all right

If Byron were to wander up wanting a cuddle, I'd be a little bit hesitant since I know where he's been... but then, I'd think the same if billy did it...

[Veil of Trash]

Love you in a not(x3)-creepy-rapey-stalker way, Leanne. You are disgustingly good and I have nothing of value to add to this thread (but argue necropost shouldn't require critique!)

[Leanne]

Aw, thanks Trashie -- I actually have an opening for a stalker if you're interested

[Veil of Trash]

Consensual stalking? I must be Ghost Dreaming. :p

[just mercedes]

Great sonnet - you make the whole package seem so effortless, the rhymes and meter smoothly carrying the images and thoughts. Vocab that pins the age (ponder, venal) but a modern final couplet. Didn't his heart fail to burn at that final bbq on the beach? That memory made me a little uneasy with the image of dust. Don't know why.

[billy]

what pisses me of is that she throws them out like confetti