From Oz

[Leanne]

Revision 18/10/16

The lone and level sands that fill the bowl
of human understandings do not shift.
Our pride has no horizons when our goal
is lasting glory; to this world we gift
such splendid dreams – but who is to recall
where once we trod? Our footsteps always fade
and parchment rots to dust while pillars fall.
Mortality becomes a beggar’s trade,
yet were our lives not hemmed by earthly thread
would inspiration take that vital turn?
Or would our patience stagnate us instead?
It's death that makes the fires of greatness burn.
Draw breath each day with eyes cast to the sky –
there’s time enough for grounding when you die.

Original Version

The lone and level sands that fill the bowl
of human understanding do not shift.
Our pride has no horizons, and our goal
is lasting glory; to this world we gift
such splendid dreams – but who is to recall
where once we trod, for footsteps always fade
and parchment rots to dust while pillars fall.
Mortality becomes a beggar’s trade,
yet were our lives not hemmed by earthly thread
would inspiration take that vital turn?
Or would our patience stagnate us instead?
‘Tis death that makes the fires of greatness burn.
Take ev’ry breath with eyes cast to the sky –
there’s time enough for grounding when you die.

[dukealien]

The lone and level sands that fill the bowl  I get an image of a small, decorative bowl here, then the desert.  Better word than "bowl?"
of human understanding do not shift.  but they do, that's why footprints don't last (your second quatrain)
Our pride has no horizons, and our goal  warning - politician's and doctor's (king's?) first person plural here, though it turns out to be benign
is lasting glory; to this world we gift  see below for overall comments on the first quatrain.
such splendid dreams – but who is to recall 
where once we trod, for footsteps always fade
and parchment rots to dust while pillars fall.  "as" instead of "while" for more sandy hiss?
Mortality becomes a beggar’s trade,  I don't get a clear idea from "beggar's trade" - we're poor, arrive with nothing, leave ditto?
yet were our lives not hemmed by earthly thread  the full expression (cliche?) would be "hemmed in" - to me, "hemmed" with "thread" is a finished skirt.  to me, this lacks drama - more "a good, clean death" than "rage against..."  Unfortunate for this otherwise good volta.
would inspiration take that vital turn? 
Or would our patience stagnate us instead?  "stagnate" is not transitive - perhaps "stultify" for "stagnate us?"
‘Tis death that makes the fires of greatness burn.  less archaic to begin with the Reaper - "Death makes the fires of greatness leap and burn," for example, but better verb than "make" (pardon the rewrite)
Take ev’ry breath with eyes cast to the sky – I want a tenser verb than "take" here - "seize," perhaps?  and (again, forgive the near-rewrite) eyes locked on the sky, but better, to include the high angle
there’s time enough for grounding when you die.  I get an echo of electrical grounding as well as burial here - Br. Eng. "earthing," which might also work.  Or not.

Title contains a nice double (or with the Frank Baum universe, triple) reference which extends to the first line.  However, aside from the author's presumed location nothing follows from either the land under Capricorn or in the clouds.  Not actually a criticism, more a missed opportunity -  only Shelley's meditation on vanity and hubris as the starting point here.  Though I may have missed other references?

First off, my notes look like I'm really panning this, but I'm not.  The central thought has been done, but is certainly worth revisiting.  Just a lot of thoughts, hope one is useful.

On the first quatrain:  you work toward two end-rhymes ("goal" and "sift") but their counterparts seem weak.  "Bowl" does not work for me, and "gift" is not a verb except archaically... think "will," "leave," "bequeath," even "give."

Finally (and philosophically, so this para may be disregarded) as Dr. Johnson asserted, the end (goal) of all human endeavor is to be happy at home.  Seeking fame, marble footprints in the sand that cannot be expunged, leads to trunkless legs and shattered visages (that is, busted faces).  Pride and ambition are necessary and human, but can be (and, too often, are) carried to extremes.

A good read.  You can do (and make it) better!

[RiverNotch]

The lone and level sands that fill the bowl
of human understanding do not shift. The world we live in does not move -- is, ultimately, finite.
Our pride has no horizons, and our goal
is lasting glory; to this world we gift We seek to make our mark on this world, so that this limited world becomes in our eyes infinite.
such splendid dreams – but who is to recall And thus we make art,
where once we trod, for footsteps always fade art which should eventually die
and parchment rots to dust while pillars fall. on this our limited world's end,
Mortality becomes a beggar’s trade, such that we dying folk are all made poor --
yet were our lives not hemmed by earthly thread 
would inspiration take that vital turn? -- yet would our works be bettered with immortality?
Or would our patience stagnate us instead? Or -- well, you put it frankly enough here.
‘Tis death that makes the fires of greatness burn. 
Take ev’ry breath with eyes cast to the sky –
there’s time enough for grounding when you die. Thus, from death springs art -- and there's no real reason to be all meh.
Eh, somehow this doesn't read as subtle as your other stuff -- I'm sure taking death as the wellspring of art is as tired a theme as Homer. It works, but for me, it's no favorite -- and as an earlier crit noted, it does feel like a wasted opportunity, especially with that double-edged title, and you referencing one of my all time favorite poems. Although perhaps that is the point --- I suppose this is meant not only to launch from Shelley, but to reverse it, with not only the plot but the gut-feeling turned upside down. Of course, if that's the case, I think the title being double-edged works against the piece, or maybe I'm just missing all the Wizard references. Technical notes:

I do find "gift" to ring a little archaic, but I'm not sure you'd want to sully your perfect rhymes with the better-in-my-mind give. I do like bowl/goal, though -- that image of a bowl of sand (and a literal bowl, not the sort that plagues starving lands) really sets the idea of a finite world.
Fossilized footprints do exist, though. A silly, but not necessarily unimportant, thought. 
"While" is definitely too weak -- as? and? you could somewhat echo Shelley's diction there, go "always fade, / and parchment rots to dust, and pillars fall." but that's sort of weak sauce too. In fact, I was sort of banking for something a little more evocative, than good old parchment rotting, pillars falling -- either a stiff stick to Ozymandias and focus on them pillars, or a shot of modernity and talk about, say, websites dying, hard drives getting cracked.
"Mortality becomes a beggar's trade" sounds like a reference to something, but even to what sort of something, I can't say. If it's entirely original (the method of saying -- I'm sure the idea isn't), then props for proverbiality. 
I'm a little irked about "take that vital turn" -- as if what we make now isn't vital enough. I mean, if the point of that line was to ask whether we could do better as immortals, I think it sorta fails, in so much as it implies more that what we already do isn't already beautiful, an inconsistency with "such splendid dreams". It could be a bit of a joke, "vital" meaning life --- but still, the readily apparent meaning fails, so it fails, for me. The next line works wonders for me, though -- the image it strikes is quite the chord.
And then "tis'" and "ev'ry" ruins it, for me. I mean, one of the things I absolutely love about Ozymandias is that it doesn't sound old -- no such silly contractions. And even if this is meant to be a reversal of that poem, I don't think it should be to the detriment of readability. Making "death" an active actor would definitely work, I think, but I'm sure you've a far better how in your mind. As for every, who yet says eh-ve-ry? (or if they do, I'm sure they'd alter to the common, finding the rhythm broke).
Yeah, a stronger verb than "take" would work better -- and somehow, "eyes cast to the sky" doesn't sound right. And I'm not sure the whole electricity thing with "grounding" is intended, or even works, I didn't get any shocking vibes from the rest.

Still, all is lovely.

[Leanne]

Thanks guys. This is a very old poem, one of my first sonnet forays written long before workshops like this existed (it was on a 3.5 inch floppy that I recovered from my undergraduate days). Of course it's referencing Ozymandias, but there was a bit of Hobbes in the course work as well, and some Milton... aren't we all so terribly full of knowledge when we're undergrads? In those days I didn't write much form, despite it being my first love, because my professors were all "everything has to be freeverse because rhyme is old fashioned" -- you know, wankers. So it's a first draft, never seen a revision and I only dug it out because something recently reminded me of it, and I thought it might be time to see what can be done with it.

I greatly appreciate your input and will work through it soon enough, once it's got time to settle in. It's quite odd working with something so old, as I can't remember why I chose certain phrasings -- probably because nobody was telling me any different at the time!

[CRNDLSM]

The lone and level sands that fill the bowl
of human understanding do not shift.
I want the lone and level sands to be an hourglass since most of this seems to be about the passing of time.  I understand bowl needs to rhyme with goal, but 'lone sands' doesn't make sense to me you might be able to reword it.

Our pride has no horizons, and our goal
is lasting glory; to this world we gift
such splendid dreams – but who is to recall 
where once we trod, for footsteps always fade
and parchment rots to dust while pillars fall.
I really like all of this, but as one sentence I'm not so sure.  Everything you're asking about to recall is the concrete forms of our dreams pride and goals?

Mortality becomes a beggar’s trade,
yet were our lives not hemmed by earthly thread
would inspiration take that vital turn?
Here I've come into problems.  I understand mortality and vital connect, earthly thread and beggar connect.  But are you saying inspiration determines life? That beggars are uninspired, or that ...  maybe it's the 'not hemmed' throwing me off.

Or would our patience stagnate us instead?
I'm still thinking about beggars, and see an unfair spin to what could be factors beyond a beggars control.

‘Tis death that makes the fires of greatness burn.
Tis seems outdated language though the sentence rings true.  Most of this is about syllables, fire for me is two, but that's not an issue because it flows as one through the whole poem.

Take ev’ry breath with eyes cast to the sky –and on that note I don't think you need to shorten every because that also to me sounds like two syllables.  It does match the apostrophe'd 'tis but not enough of it to really fit the whole poem.
there’s time enough for grounding when you die.

I love the last two lines together.  Brings back the hourglass, and I think it's funny how death ignites the fire of greatness, yet 'grounding' can put out a fire.

The whole poem seems like an inspirational speaker expecting greatness from their own life and the attitude to get it, but some of the wording throws me off.  I of course didn't catch any literary references, but really am impressed with the cohesion of an early attempt at lyrical writing.  I am beating myself trying to crandallize the sonnet form...

Thanks for posting

[zorcas]

please make this the last one [albeit extended] line in the serious workshopping forum. /admin/billy

‘Tis death that makes the fires of greatness burn. Perhaps death's soft breath upon our necks? Otherwise  just the sort of literate, flowing real English we could use more of. (Someone's suggestion of using "earthing" makes great sense but then we come up to the old saying that Yanks and Brits are divided by a common language.)

[Erthona]

When I first read this I enjoyed it and little of which to complain.
However as this is in the serious forum I knew I must critique and so critique I did. I am still uncertain of the value. Take it as you will.

dale
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Bowl could be pate to make it more explicit, but I really have no problem with bowl as it gives the line a wider scope. Grammar is not my forte as you know, but it seems in L2 "understanding" should be "understandings" instead.

The lone and level sands that fill the bowl of human understandings do not shift.

sands and understandings seem to need to balance out. ???

"Our pride has no horizons, and our goal is lasting glory;"

No comma before "and" and the line could do without "and" entirely. Of course it is there to make the meter work, but you would not allow for that today.

I think this whole section needs a hard stop somewhere as it leaves me breathless.

"Our pride has no horizons, and our goal
is lasting glory; to this world we gift
such splendid dreams – but who is to recall
where once we trod, for footsteps always fade
and parchment rots to dust while pillars fall."

To tell you the truth, I don't get the idea of this next section.

"Mortality becomes a beggar’s trade,
yet were our lives not hemmed by earthly thread
would inspiration take that vital turn?"

There is a sort of dissonance here. This section is preceded by deprecating the worth of human mental production, but then we find that death is the price we must pay for this heretofore dross metal.

In the end the cynic appears to transform into a true believer.

[Leanne]

Many thanks all. I've done a little revision but nothing major just yet -- I'm leaving it settle a while before I put down the scalpel and pull out the chainsaw.