03-17-2015, 05:50 AM
Edit 1
thanks to all who commented.
I pitched my tent at sunset in a bitter wind.
Now, staring up at midnight,
watching shaded moon-lit shapes
like dancers bending, stamping
shadows limned on lucent cloth,
I hear the cackle of a loon
resounding from the lake,
recounting cold lifetimes of traveling,
wavering past ruined homesteads
as ancient echoes wake.
Its manic sobbing climbs,
as cloud-totems slide across the moon,
and spreads a knapping tone across the waves
that shatters pale and brittle
moonlight into chips of shining flint.
More loons have joined the first,
and startled, I inhale.
Intent, I'm sure I hear an eerie,
cadenced hint of patterns,
layered pitches perfectly aligned,
attuned with tangled, haunted voices
as they scribe their message,
wishing ancient litanies could find a tongue
to list the name of each forgotten tribe.
These are both printed here for comparison's sake. I'm experimenting with metered poetry with line breaks more like free verse. I posted another poem that I tried this with on a different forum, and the consensus was they liked the 'free' one better. Please give me your opinions on the two forms as well as any other critiques. It's supposed to be in iambic hexameter.
with even line breaks:
I pitched my tent at sunset in a bitter wind.
Now, staring up at midnight, watching shaded moon-
lit shapes like dancers bending, stamping shadows limned
on lucent cloth, I hear the cackle of a loon
resounding on the lake, recounting cold lifetimes
of traveling; it reaches past ruined homesteads,
and ancient echoes wake. Its manic sobbing climbs
as cloud-totems slide across the moon. It spreads
its knapping call across the waves and shatters pale
and brittle moonlight into chips of shining flint.
More loons have joined the first, and startled, I inhale,
intently sure I hear an eerie, cadenced hint
of patterns, layered senses perfectly aligned,
in tune with tangled, haunted voices as they scribe
their message, wishing ancient litanies could find
a tongue to list the names of each forgotten tribe.
with 'free-verse' style line breaks:
I pitched my tent at sunset in a bitter wind.
Now, staring up at midnight,
watching shaded moon-lit shapes
like dancers bending, stamping
shadows limned on lucent cloth,
I hear the cackle of a loon
resounding on the lake, recounting
cold lifetimes of traveling;
it reaches past ruined homesteads,
and ancient echoes wake.
Its manic sobbing climbs
as cloud-totems slide across the moon.
It spreads its knapping call across the waves
and shatters pale and brittle
moonlight into chips of shining flint.
More loons have joined the first,
and startled, I inhale,
intently sure I hear an eerie, cadenced
hint of patterns, layered senses
perfectly aligned, in tune
with tangled, haunted voices
as they scribe their message,
wishing ancient litanies could find a tongue
to list the names of each forgotten tribe.
thanks to all who commented.
I pitched my tent at sunset in a bitter wind.
Now, staring up at midnight,
watching shaded moon-lit shapes
like dancers bending, stamping
shadows limned on lucent cloth,
I hear the cackle of a loon
resounding from the lake,
recounting cold lifetimes of traveling,
wavering past ruined homesteads
as ancient echoes wake.
Its manic sobbing climbs,
as cloud-totems slide across the moon,
and spreads a knapping tone across the waves
that shatters pale and brittle
moonlight into chips of shining flint.
More loons have joined the first,
and startled, I inhale.
Intent, I'm sure I hear an eerie,
cadenced hint of patterns,
layered pitches perfectly aligned,
attuned with tangled, haunted voices
as they scribe their message,
wishing ancient litanies could find a tongue
to list the name of each forgotten tribe.
These are both printed here for comparison's sake. I'm experimenting with metered poetry with line breaks more like free verse. I posted another poem that I tried this with on a different forum, and the consensus was they liked the 'free' one better. Please give me your opinions on the two forms as well as any other critiques. It's supposed to be in iambic hexameter.
with even line breaks:
I pitched my tent at sunset in a bitter wind.
Now, staring up at midnight, watching shaded moon-
lit shapes like dancers bending, stamping shadows limned
on lucent cloth, I hear the cackle of a loon
resounding on the lake, recounting cold lifetimes
of traveling; it reaches past ruined homesteads,
and ancient echoes wake. Its manic sobbing climbs
as cloud-totems slide across the moon. It spreads
its knapping call across the waves and shatters pale
and brittle moonlight into chips of shining flint.
More loons have joined the first, and startled, I inhale,
intently sure I hear an eerie, cadenced hint
of patterns, layered senses perfectly aligned,
in tune with tangled, haunted voices as they scribe
their message, wishing ancient litanies could find
a tongue to list the names of each forgotten tribe.
with 'free-verse' style line breaks:
I pitched my tent at sunset in a bitter wind.
Now, staring up at midnight,
watching shaded moon-lit shapes
like dancers bending, stamping
shadows limned on lucent cloth,
I hear the cackle of a loon
resounding on the lake, recounting
cold lifetimes of traveling;
it reaches past ruined homesteads,
and ancient echoes wake.
Its manic sobbing climbs
as cloud-totems slide across the moon.
It spreads its knapping call across the waves
and shatters pale and brittle
moonlight into chips of shining flint.
More loons have joined the first,
and startled, I inhale,
intently sure I hear an eerie, cadenced
hint of patterns, layered senses
perfectly aligned, in tune
with tangled, haunted voices
as they scribe their message,
wishing ancient litanies could find a tongue
to list the names of each forgotten tribe.