Bitter farewell

[tectak]

Hi Dale,
I cannot fathom what inspired this fabulous trip but award you a
knighthood, gartered, for writing it. Punctuation seems a very small nit, and in this piece it is, and so I will try to find something else to insult you over. I am becoming a specialist pratt. You taught me all I know
Bitter farewell

Arthur, see him lying there,
cold and dead, Some statement of the obvious but there is serialism, cause and effect and information in this opener. It is,though, open ended as to whom this information is proffered. If to no one in particular then " Arthur lies  before me; still,
cold and dead."

This is not the Arthur I knew, A comma crisis looms. Period at this line end for lots of reasons.
where is the life,
the relentless vigor,
the burning intellect,
That helped forge this kingdom, No capita on that.
from petty kings?
 
How I hated you, Ditto. this is a sentence BUT the enjambment carries it over to the next line. Suggestion, and that is all it is, would be to leave the comma after you and end the run-on with a period after pure. It certainly dramatises the line to do this because it sets apart the expressed paradoxical envy as a gestalt.
so noble and pure,
always the country first, Excellent indication of wearisome acceptance
before yourself, before me.
How difficult to live
in your shadow, cold. Hmm. Not good. How difficult to live in your chill shadow?
Where was the warmth
of a husband?
 
Duty always came first to you,
duty to the country. I think this is repetition and could be omitted...should be omitted. You may argue that this is bitterness exemplified but frankly, I got that in one.
Damn this country
that sucked the life from our love. Hmm again. Love from our lives (pluralised on purpose). Maybe. Maybe cliche. Maybe not.
Our marriage bed so often cold, In this period in history, cold was a problem ANYWAY and so harping on about not being warm enough is a little pedestrian.Symbolically I think you could make more of the absence of a bed partener ie proximity of or otherwise.
I needed warmth, Definitely a period here. This is a unit of sadness. Let it stand alone.
all I received was the frigid honor
of being your queen.
 
For all his burning, Lancelot
was not near so warm as you,
perhaps a missed nuance here. Lancelot was not near....just saying
but your duty always
stood between us,
like a wall between
a cold traveler and the fire. Yes to this...though  I am ashamedly titivated by the "...your duty always stood". Note to self.Oh for Pete's sake grow up.
Damn you Arthur,
how dare you leave me now. Patently rhetorical  but a question nonetheless?
 
It was not the queen that betrayed you,
it was the women,
but you betrayed me first, Though is better than but.
left me to him,
then condemned me
when I sought him out, Period
but yours was the greater affair. But me no buts. Omit. Meter? Who cares...easy to correct
 
You always loved this country
more than you loved me,
and then expected me
to bed down with her.
You made love to her,
let her suck the life from you, Too much sucking going on...it sucks
this vampire bitch,
this wanton whore, this Britain.
 
Now that she no longer
has you on which to suckle,
she will now come for me.
Sucking from these barren teats,
leaving me a dried out husk,
just as you, nothing left,
not even a good meal for the worms. It is powerful. It is meaningfull...but you should choose which sucking metaphor you like best and use just one.
 
They call me whore, slut,
perpetrator of treason,
but that is only because
my sins were so petty. Again, you make a good and subtle point. I feel you could build on this mini-theme without losing anything of the core metaphor.
You never committed petty crimes,
yours were always
the sins of the gods.
 
That is why they hate me!
My sins were so mundane,
yours were always so terribly grand. ...and arguably you DO build on this godly detestation of mundanity in mortals in these lines...but now I want to know what these mundane transgressions were...surely, confession would be a survival instinct?
They forgave you, even the time
you had all those children slaughtered,
trying to find your errant seed,
that bastard of your downfall, Mordred.
 
No, they forgave you even that, Why the no? Surely yes if anything at all
for wasn't that like the hand of Zeus, for is superfluous
striking down from the heavens
taking life indiscriminately,
for a larger purpose?
No, my real crime was being a woman, Why the no? Who is arguing?
having a woman’s needs.
 
The people of this fairyland,
will stand only so much humanness
in their gods before they cast them down.
How could you leave me
all alone like this Arthur? HO Ho Ho! What is this thing called, Love? Comma after this
Leaving me to these dogs to tear; 
a piece of meat to savage. Clunky everywhere but grammatically correct. Funny, that.
 
Is this then my punishment, Then? Then? Then what?
for betraying you?
To try to hold together what we built,
even as it rips me apart,
a butchers knife to mutton, butcher's. You are getting tired of the piece
a sacrificial lamb,
in your place on the alter? Oh dear. Altar.
 
I can not do it Arthur, I am not you,
I don't love this fickle land like you did.
Though for love of you,
I will lay down with you mistress, Huh?
even though it will be my death.
 
But what care I of death, I embrace it, Way too many buts, fors and thoughs...my boolean is not up to it.
for without you I am dead already,
May I join you soon my love, This is a question?
let us stand before God,
and learn to love each other
as we never did on this cruel earth.
 
 erthona
 
©2005 revised 2016

Best I can do though but and even for you it is worth it.
Best,
tectak[/b][/b][/b]

---

Hi Dale,
I cannot fathom what inspired this fabulous trip but award you a
knighthood, gartered, for writing it. Punctuation seems a very small nit, and in this piece it is, and so I will try to find something else to insult you over. I am becoming a specialist pratt. You taught me all I know
Bitter farewell

Arthur, see him lying there,
cold and dead, Some statement of the obvious but there is serialism, cause and effect and information in this opener. It is,though, open ended as to whom this information is proffered. If to no one in particular then " Arthur lies  before me; still,
cold and dead."

This is not the Arthur I knew, A comma crisis looms. Period at this line end for lots of reasons.
where is the life,
the relentless vigor,
the burning intellect,
That helped forge this kingdom, No capital on that.
from petty kings?
 
How I hated you, Ditto. this is a sentence BUT the enjambment carries it over to the next line. Suggestion, and that is all it is, would be to leave the comma after you and end the run-on with a period after pure. It certainly dramatises the line to do this because it sets apart the expressed paradoxical envy as a gestalt.
so noble and pure,
always the country first, Excellent indication of wearisome acceptance
before yourself, before me.
How difficult to live
in your shadow, cold. Hmm. Not good. How difficult to live in your chill shadow?
Where was the warmth
of a husband?
 
Duty always came first to you,
duty to the country. I think this is repetition and could be omitted...should be omitted. You may argue that this is bitterness exemplified but frankly, I got that in one.
Damn this country
that sucked the life from our love. Hmm again. Love from our lives (pluralised on purpose). Maybe. Maybe cliche. Maybe not.
Our marriage bed so often cold, In this period in history, cold was a problem ANYWAY and so harping on about not being warm enough is a little pedestrian.Symbolically I think you could make more of the absence of a bed partener ie proximity of or otherwise.
I needed warmth, Definitely a period here. This is a unit of sadness. Let it stand alone.
all I received was the frigid honor
of being your queen.
 
For all his burning, Lancelot
was not near so warm as you,
perhaps a missed nuance here. Lancelot was not near....just saying
but your duty always
stood between us,
like a wall between
a cold traveler and the fire. Yes to this...though  I am ashamedly titivated by the "...your duty always stood". Note to self.Oh for Pete's sake grow up.
Damn you Arthur,
how dare you leave me now. Patently rhetorical  but a question nonetheless?
 
It was not the queen that betrayed you,
it was the women,
but you betrayed me first, Though is better than but.
left me to him,
then condemned me
when I sought him out, Period
but yours was the greater affair. But me no buts. Omit. Meter? Who cares...easy to correct
 
You always loved this country
more than you loved me,
and then expected me
to bed down with her.
You made love to her,
let her suck the life from you, Too much sucking going on...it sucks
this vampire bitch,
this wanton whore, this Britain.
 
Now that she no longer
has you on which to suckle,
she will now come for me.
Sucking from these barren teats,
leaving me a dried out husk,
just as you, nothing left,
not even a good meal for the worms. It is powerful. It is meaningfull...but you should choose which sucking metaphor you like best and use just one.
 
They call me whore, slut,
perpetrator of treason,
but that is only because
my sins were so petty. Again, you make a good and subtle point. I feel you could build on this mini-theme without losing anything of the core metaphor.
You never committed petty crimes,
yours were always
the sins of the gods.
 
That is why they hate me!
My sins were so mundane,
yours were always so terribly grand. ...and arguably you DO build on this godly detestation of mundanity in mortals in these lines...but now I want to know what these mundane transgressions were...surely, confession would be a survival instinct?
They forgave you, even the time
you had all those children slaughtered,
trying to find your errant seed,
that bastard of your downfall, Mordred.
 
No, they forgave you even that, Why the no? Surely yes if anything at all
for wasn't that like the hand of Zeus, for is superfluous
striking down from the heavens
taking life indiscriminately,
for a larger purpose?
No, my real crime was being a woman, Why the no? Who is arguing?
having a woman’s needs.
 
The people of this fairyland,
will stand only so much humanness
in their gods before they cast them down.
How could you leave me
all alone like this Arthur? HO Ho Ho! What is this thing called, Love? Comma after this
Leaving me to these dogs to tear; 
a piece of meat to savage. Clunky everywhere but grammatically correct. Funny, that.
 
Is this then my punishment, Then? Then? Then what?
for betraying you?
To try to hold together what we built,
even as it rips me apart,
a butchers knife to mutton, butcher's. You are getting tired of the piece
a sacrificial lamb,
in your place on the alter? Oh dear. Altar.
 
I can not do it Arthur, I am not you,
I don't love this fickle land like you did.
Though for love of you,
I will lay down with you mistress, Huh?
even though it will be my death.
 
But what care I of death, I embrace it, Way too many buts, fors and thoughs...my boolean is not up to it.
for without you I am dead already,
May I join you soon my love, This is a question?
let us stand before God,
and learn to love each other
as we never did on this cruel earth.
 
 erthona
 
©2005 revised 2016

Best I can do though but and even for you it is worth it.
Best,
tectak[/b][/b][/b]