High-Water Mark (1st Revision)

[svanhoeven]

Thank you, Todd and Leanne, for your helpful suggestions.

1st Revision:

High-Water Mark
For the 40th anniversary of Apollo 17, December, 2012

I

Soon after brutal apes were graced
With cunning minds and nimble hands
That grasped both word and implement,
They sought more fruitful far-off lands.

Devising hieroglyph and rune,
They logged the heavens, wielding tomes
To guide their craft across the seas,
Subduing wilds to make new homes.

Withdrawing wisdom from its sheath,
They felled old plagues, then lit the waste
With bolt and arc in copper veins,
Contagion and the dark erased.

II

Then clad in fragile armor, we
Assailed the sky, defying void
Between the Earth and distant Moon;
Man’s highest boundary destroyed.

Our race's ardor tried and spent,
With thinning purse and swollen fame
We shunted wealth to mend the poor,
Make well the old, a carnal aim.

We climbed down from our highest mount,
Resigned the goal, shook off its dust,
Surrendered gear as monuments,
Consigning all to moth and rust.

Then christening metallic thralls
In zeal for life and fearing woe,
We coasted shallows in their shade;
Paid absent heed; remained below.

III

But then a ghost rose into view
Discerned through artifice of glass;
Bleak omen of a monolith,
Far portent of some deadly mass.

With former prowess at its ebb,
We forged new arms to meet the bane
And flung our shafts against the foe,
Contesting blood and home in vain,

For they who measure signs foretold
The writ of doom would not be stayed.
Our scruples fled; we furled the law
And sundered oaths; all cried, some prayed.

The common clung to brood and creed,
While kings fled to a deep retreat;
Then stony fist turned flaming spear
And stabbed the Earth with melting heat.

IV

When mortal blow had landed home
To score the ground and cast its plume,
Then every vale was made a pyre
Of leaden ash and choking fume.

Bereft of drink, of grain, of kine,
Stark hunger reigned past any ban.
Each set his face against those dear,
Ate brother's flesh, devoured clan.

Dim sunlight shone through fatal clouds
On pillars dashed, on fallen throne,
On mounds of corpses bound in earth,
Souls humbled to mere drifts of bone.

Epilogue

If strangers from a far-flung sphere
Should trace and track our trail of wit,
Then sailing to our furthest shore
Would come to find upon it writ

Small furrows dug by dust-shod feet,
Bold sigils of an Earth-ward land,
A fleet exalting ancient gods,
Its iron vessels now unmanned.

If they could solve a distant tongue,
On metal remnant they would find
Our sentiment made epitaph:
"We came in peace for all mankind."

Sole witness now, this sterile orb,
Proceeding 'round through ageless span-
Grim herald of the tomb below,
A stone to mark the grave of Man.


Original version:

I

Soon after brutal ape was graced
With cunning mind and nimble hands,
They grasped both word and implement
And sought more fruitful far-off lands.

Devising hieroglyph and rune,
They logged the stars; then wielded tomes
To guide their craft across the seas,
Redeeming wilds to make new homes.

Withdrawing wisdom from its sheath,
They felled old plagues, then lit the waste
With bolt and arc in copper veins,
Contagion and the dark erased.

II

Then we in fragile armor clad
Did breach the sky, defying void
'Tween Mother-Earth and Daughter-World,
Man’s highest boundary destroyed.

Our race's ardor tried and spent,
With thinning purse and swollen fame
We shunted wealth to mend the poor,
Make well the old, a carnal aim.

We climbed down from our highest mount,
Resigned the goal, shook off its dust,
Surrendered gear as monuments,
Consigning all to moth and rust.

Then christening metallic thralls
In zeal for life and fearing woe,
We coasted shallows in their shade;
Paid distant heed; remained below.

III

But then a ghost rose into view
Discerned through artifice of glass;
Bleak omen of a monolith,
Far portent of some deadly mass.

With former prowess at its ebb,
We forged new arms to meet the bane
And flung our shafts against the foe,
Contesting blood and home in vain,

For they that measure signs foretold
The writ of doom would not be stayed.
Our scruples fled; we furled the law
And sundered oaths; all cried, some prayed.

The common clung to brood and creed,
While kings hid in a deep retreat;
Then stony fist turned flaming spear
And stabbed the Earth with melting heat.

IV

When mortal blow had landed home
To score the ground and cast its plume,
Then every vale was made a pyre
Of leaden ash and choking fume.

Bereft of drink, of grain, of kine,
Stark hunger reigned past any ban.
Each set his face against those dear,
Ate brother's flesh, devoured clan.

Last, light shone dim through fatal cloud
On pillars dashed, on fallen throne,
On mounds of corpses bound in earth,
Souls humbled to mere sums of bone.

Epilogue

If strangers from a far-flung sphere
Should trace and track our trail of wit,
Then sailing to our furthest shore
Would come to find upon it writ

Small furrows dug by dust-shod feet,
Bold sigils of an Earth-ward land,
A fleet exalting ancient gods,
Its iron vessels now unmanned.

If they a distant tongue could solve
On metal shard, would, reading find
Our sentiment made epitaph:
"We came in peace for all mankind."

Sole witness now, this sterile orb,
Proceeding 'round through ageless span-
Grim herald of the tomb below,
A stone to mark the grave of Man.

[Card]

Holy shit I love this poem.

[Todd]

I have to agree with Card on this. The content reminds me of Clarke, Resnick, and all other sweeping sci-fi. I'm appreciative of anyone that pushes the boundaries. Some light comments for Novice: look for words you can cut without sacrificing meaning or tone. It's a long piece and that's fine but make the words count. It's not egregious but the poem would be strengthened. It's little things like cutting clad at the end of the fragile armor line.

Also, push yourself a little more. Things like: Mother-Earth/Daughter-World....I get we're seeding planets but I think you can come up with stronger choices.

It's very cool though. I enjoyed it.

Best,

Todd

Edit: hey, I just realized I didn't let you know what worked for me. It's late where I am. I'll try to give you a few more comments on that score tomorrow.

This is my first poem. Thanks for your attention and criticism.

High-Water Mark
For the 40th anniversary of Apollo 17, December, 2012

I

Soon after brutal ape was graced
With cunning mind and nimble hands,
They grasped both word and implement
And sought more fruitful far-off lands.

Devising hieroglyph and rune,
They logged the stars; then wielded tomes
To guide their craft across the seas,
Redeeming wilds to make new homes.

Withdrawing wisdom from its sheath,
They felled old plagues, then lit the waste
With bolt and arc in copper veins,
Contagion and the dark erased.

II

Then we in fragile armor clad
Did breach the sky, defying void
'Tween Mother-Earth and Daughter-World,
Man’s highest boundary destroyed.

Our race's ardor tried and spent,
With thinning purse and swollen fame
We shunted wealth to mend the poor,
Make well the old, a carnal aim.

We climbed down from our highest mount,
Resigned the goal, shook off its dust,
Surrendered gear as monuments,
Consigning all to moth and rust.

Then christening metallic thralls
In zeal for life and fearing woe,
We coasted shallows in their shade;
Paid distant heed; remained below.

III

But then a ghost rose into view
Discerned through artifice of glass;
Bleak omen of a monolith,
Far portent of some deadly mass.

With former prowess at its ebb,
We forged new arms to meet the bane
And flung our shafts against the foe,
Contesting blood and home in vain,

For they that measure signs foretold
The writ of doom would not be stayed.
Our scruples fled; we furled the law
And sundered oaths; all cried, some prayed.

The common clung to brood and creed,
While kings hid in a deep retreat;
Then stony fist turned flaming spear
And stabbed the Earth with melting heat.

IV

When mortal blow had landed home
To score the ground and cast its plume,
Then every vale was made a pyre
Of leaden ash and choking fume.

Bereft of drink, of grain, of kine,
Stark hunger reigned past any ban.
Each set his face against those dear,
Ate brother's flesh, devoured clan.

Last, light shone dim through fatal cloud
On pillars dashed, on fallen throne,
On mounds of corpses bound in earth,
Souls humbled to mere sums of bone.

Epilogue

If strangers from a far-flung sphere
Should trace and track our trail of wit,
Then sailing to our furthest shore
Would come to find upon it writ

Small furrows dug by dust-shod feet,
Bold sigils of an Earth-ward land,
A fleet exalting ancient gods,
Its iron vessels now unmanned.

If they a distant tongue could solve
On metal shard, would, reading find
Our sentiment made epitaph:
"We came in peace for all mankind."

Sole witness now, this sterile orb,
Proceeding 'round through ageless span-
Grim herald of the tomb below,
A stone to mark the grave of Man.

[svanhoeven]

Thanks Card and Todd for your encouragement.

Todd, point taken on the extra verbiage. I think some of it came about because I wanted to use strict meter and rhyme on my first poem. I still don't understand the ineffable difference between free verse and prose. I didn't want to make any exceptions to the meter because, in my opinion anyway, I need to learn to do it right before doing it wrong on purpose. So to remove "clad", for example, I need to rework the whole line. I'd appreciate any more feedback you might have of what ended up sounding forced due to the strict meter and rhyme.

As to the "Daughter-World" thing, this is another newbie lesson for me, because you never know how a reader is going to interpret phrases like that. When I wrote it, I hadn't really considered the "seeding life" aspect. I was thinking of the dominant hypothesis of the moon's birth, which is the theory that the moon resulted from a collision between the early Earth and another wandering planet-size mass, making the moon "offspring" in a way. Also, since the moon is usually thought of as feminine in literature and Romance languages, I tried to use the image of the moon as daughter to "mother" Earth. It didn't work, I guess.

Very good stuff to think about. Thanks.

[Card]

Real quick, just to let you know: Prose is the language of books, where grammar is correctly applied and rhythm is beaten in a dark alley. It does flow though, just more in a conversational way than a musical way.

Free verse is going to be broken up like yours is, and grammar isn't going to matter so much as the way it sounds (it still is important, grammar exists so things can make sense, but just look at Seuss with his made up words).

[svanhoeven]

Real quick, just to let you know: Prose is the language of books, where grammar is correctly applied and rhythm is beaten in a dark alley. It does flow though, just more in a conversational way than a musical way.

Free verse is going to be broken up like yours is, and grammar isn't going to matter so much as the way it sounds (it still is important, grammar exists so things can make sense, but just look at Seuss with his made up words).

My confusion is coming from looking at critiques of other's poetry on other sites. I've seen professorial types criticize other's free verse for not having proper grammar and punctuation, not being composed of complete sentences, etc. That made me wonder if the only difference between free verse and prose was interesting line breaks.

[Card]

I think it's more the rhythm of the lines than the breaks. The breaks are part of the beat, but the words and syllables are really what make poetry (in my opinion, at least).

[Leanne]

This is my first poem. Thanks for your attention and criticism.

High-Water Mark
For the 40th anniversary of Apollo 17, December, 2012

I

Soon after brutal ape was graced
With cunning mind and nimble hands,
They grasped both word and implement -- you shift here from singular "brutal ape" to plural "they" -- a quick fix would be to alter L1 to "soon after brutal apes were graced"
And sought more fruitful far-off lands.

Devising hieroglyph and rune,
They logged the stars; then wielded tomes -- "then" seems a filler, but if you changed it to "they" it would give you some repetition and keep the meter
To guide their craft across the seas,
Redeeming wilds to make new homes.

Withdrawing wisdom from its sheath,
They felled old plagues, then lit the waste
With bolt and arc in copper veins,
Contagion and the dark erased. -- great stanza!

II

Then we in fragile armor clad -- the inverted syntax is a bit awkward here and not necessary for the rhyme -- what about "then clad in fragile armor, we"
Did breach the sky, defying void
'Tween Mother-Earth and Daughter-World, -- a colon might work better here, to give you a longer pause at the end of the line and allow the next line to have more impact
Man’s highest boundary destroyed.

Our race's ardor tried and spent,
With thinning purse and swollen fame
We shunted wealth to mend the poor,
Make well the old, a carnal aim.

We climbed down from our highest mount,
Resigned the goal, shook off its dust,
Surrendered gear as monuments,
Consigning all to moth and rust.

Then christening metallic thralls
In zeal for life and fearing woe,
We coasted shallows in their shade;
Paid distant heed; remained below.

III

But then a ghost rose into view
Discerned through artifice of glass;
Bleak omen of a monolith,
Far portent of some deadly mass.

With former prowess at its ebb,
We forged new arms to meet the bane
And flung our shafts against the foe,
Contesting blood and home in vain,

For they that measure signs foretold -- they who
The writ of doom would not be stayed.
Our scruples fled; we furled the law
And sundered oaths; all cried, some prayed.

The common clung to brood and creed,
While kings hid in a deep retreat; -- "hid in a" gives you a centre of fairly weak stresses and doesn't drive the meter well. Perhaps, "While nobles hid in deep retreat"?
Then stony fist turned flaming spear
And stabbed the Earth with melting heat.

IV

When mortal blow had landed home
To score the ground and cast its plume,
Then every vale was made a pyre
Of leaden ash and choking fume.

Bereft of drink, of grain, of kine,
Stark hunger reigned past any ban.
Each set his face against those dear,
Ate brother's flesh, devoured clan.

Last, light shone dim through fatal cloud -- missing two articles makes this line awkward -- perhaps put "the" instead of "last"
On pillars dashed, on fallen throne,
On mounds of corpses bound in earth,
Souls humbled to mere sums of bone. -- lots of m sounds make this line quite a long one on the tongue and the meter is not maximised -- my suggestion, to keep the assonance, would be "souls tumbled into humble bone"

Epilogue

If strangers from a far-flung sphere
Should trace and track our trail of wit,
Then sailing to our furthest shore
Would come to find upon it writ

Small furrows dug by dust-shod feet,
Bold sigils of an Earth-ward land,
A fleet exalting ancient gods,
Its iron vessels now unmanned.

If they a distant tongue could solve -- inverted syntax -- "if they could solve a distant tongue" works just as well for the meter
On metal shard, would, reading find -- "reading" is unnecessary, it's obvious that's what they'll be doing -- perhaps "on metal fragment, they would find"
Our sentiment made epitaph:
"We came in peace for all mankind."

Sole witness now, this sterile orb,
Proceeding 'round through ageless span-
Grim herald of the tomb below,
A stone to mark the grave of Man.

Excellent! You have a great feel for meter and you maintain the rhyme scheme well, without it dictating the poem. This was a great read -- I'm afraid I've been a bit more thorough than I normally would in Novice but the poem demanded it of me

[Todd]

A couple things:

As far as Daughter-World goes, I can see how that explanation fits so I don't think I'd call it a failure. It is true though that once your poetry goes out there you lose the ability to control the interpretation. I think the world part didn't imply moon to me anywhere.

Next, I'll start a thread in the poetry discussion forum on free verse using your questions as the starting point. It's more than just the line breaks and I've been on those forums too. In general you want to follow consistent grammar until well you don't. I don't mind the discussion here but I'd rather the focus stay on the poem so be looking for the thread, and contribute to it if you like.

To the poem again, most of what I write is in free verse. I do use some tricks Leanne taught me to get a handle on meter though that have been helpful. When I read your clad line it works with the rhythm though I think the challenge in all poetry form or free is too not use any unnecessary words. I don't mean by that cut "the, and, to" or make a choppy sounding flow. I mean if the word isn't necessary cut it. Clad isn't needed for tone or meaning--so, I would cut it. Yes, it requires you to fix the line relative to the meter which wouldn't be necessary in free verse. If you can't come up with a better fix you keep clad. If you can, the poem is stronger. That's the challenge.

This line also felt a little off to me from a meter perspective:

Redeeming wilds to make new homes.

It could just be me, my accent, and the way I read it, but it felt off.

Best,

Todd

Thanks Card and Todd for your encouragement.

Todd, point taken on the extra verbiage. I think some of it came about because I wanted to use strict meter and rhyme on my first poem. I still don't understand the ineffable difference between free verse and prose. I didn't want to make any exceptions to the meter because, in my opinion anyway, I need to learn to do it right before doing it wrong on purpose. So to remove "clad", for example, I need to rework the whole line. I'd appreciate any more feedback you might have of what ended up sounding forced due to the strict meter and rhyme.

As to the "Daughter-World" thing, this is another newbie lesson for me, because you never know how a reader is going to interpret phrases like that. When I wrote it, I hadn't really considered the "seeding life" aspect. I was thinking of the dominant hypothesis of the moon's birth, which is the theory that the moon resulted from a collision between the early Earth and another wandering planet-size mass, making the moon "offspring" in a way. Also, since the moon is usually thought of as feminine in literature and Romance languages, I tried to use the image of the moon as daughter to "mother" Earth. It didn't work, I guess.

Very good stuff to think about. Thanks.

[billy]

hi svanhoeven.

i know this is serious critique, but all i can see impresses me.
the images are excellent and consistent, the poem takes us from the start of man to it's demise as wellas John Donne would have, if he lived for the Apollo missions. the grasp of words shown in the poem is also exemplary. i was forcing myself trying to find something i think could be improved, if it could, my poetic skills weren't up to the task of find it.
it feel fresh, it feels like a good poem should feel.

i do have one nit and that's all it is. i can never understand why some poets start every line with a capital letter. i do know it's a personal thing but when i see a cap, i feel as though i should have paused longer than i should have for the comma before it dictates. did i say the end rhymes were good, they were, they were very good. the meter also, though not all iambic most of it was and where it wasn't you made it still fit the meter excellent write and excellent read

thanks

Thank you, Todd and Leanne, for your helpful suggestions.

1st Revision:

High-Water Mark
For the 40th anniversary of Apollo 17, December, 2012

I

Soon after brutal apes were graced
With cunning minds and nimble hands
That grasped both word and implement,
They sought more fruitful far-off lands. nice alliteration.

Devising hieroglyph and rune,
They logged the heavens, wielding tomes
To guide their craft across the seas,
Subduing wilds to make new homes.

Withdrawing wisdom from its sheath,
They felled old plagues, then lit the waste
With bolt and arc in copper veins,
Contagion and the dark erased.

II

Then clad in fragile armor, we
Assailed the sky, defying void
Between the Earth and distant Moon;
Man’s highest boundary destroyed.

Our race's ardor tried and spent,
With thinning purse and swollen fame
We shunted wealth to mend the poor,
Make well the old, a carnal aim.

We climbed down from our highest mount,
Resigned the goal, shook off its dust,
Surrendered gear as monuments,
Consigning all to moth and rust.

Then christening metallic thralls
In zeal for life and fearing woe,
We coasted shallows in their shade;
Paid absent heed; remained below.

III

But then a ghost rose into view
Discerned through artifice of glass;
Bleak omen of a monolith,
Far portent of some deadly mass.

With former prowess at its ebb,
We forged new arms to meet the bane
And flung our shafts against the foe,
Contesting blood and home in vain,

For they who measure signs foretold
The writ of doom would not be stayed.
Our scruples fled; we furled the law
And sundered oaths; all cried, some prayed.

The common clung to brood and creed,
While kings fled to a deep retreat;
Then stony fist turned flaming spear
And stabbed the Earth with melting heat.

IV

When mortal blow had landed home
To score the ground and cast its plume,
Then every vale was made a pyre
Of leaden ash and choking fume.

Bereft of drink, of grain, of kine,
Stark hunger reigned past any ban.
Each set his face against those dear,
Ate brother's flesh, devoured clan.

Dim sunlight shone through fatal clouds
On pillars dashed, on fallen throne,
On mounds of corpses bound in earth,
Souls humbled to mere drifts of bone.

Epilogue

If strangers from a far-flung sphere
Should trace and track our trail of wit,
Then sailing to our furthest shore
Would come to find upon it writ

Small furrows dug by dust-shod feet,
Bold sigils of an Earth-ward land,
A fleet exalting ancient gods,
Its iron vessels now unmanned.

If they could solve a distant tongue,
On metal remnant they would find
Our sentiment made epitaph:
"We came in peace for all mankind."

Sole witness now, this sterile orb,
Proceeding 'round through ageless span-
Grim herald of the tomb below,
A stone to mark the grave of Man.

[Card]

Billy, it's funny but I feel different. I get hung up when a line is begun without a capitol. A new line is a new sentence.

It's kinda like a personal thing for me too, where I literally cannot comprehend sentences with improper grammar. I end up correcting them, even if I don't post it, so that I can appreciate writing.

Err... I also don't like lone, lowercase "i" letters. The shape is a bit distracting.


It's a serious problem to have on the internet, I know. I've been trying to get used to it.

[billy]

i'm fine with caps after a period.
but a period and a comma leave a different length of pause.
i just feel i should have paused longer when i see a cap after a comma.
ee cummings like lower casde i's didn't he, i like the big I in a poem.

like i said, i realize it's a choice thing and not written in stone.
is every line a sentence? perhaps something for discussion on another board

sorry for being off topic svanhoevan

[svanhoeven]

Billy, interesting point about the capitals on each line. Let me explain how they got there by giving you the genesis of the poem.

At the end of November, I went to visit my mother in Houston with my wife and two kids. My mother has a lot of Dr Seuss books, since I have four nieces who also visit her on a regular basis. While I was there, my four year-old insisted I read him "The Grinch Who Stole Christmas" over and over at bedtime.

When we went back home, I could hear that rhythm while others were talking if a phrase or sentence matched it or came close. After a while, I started re-composing these phrases in my head to make them fit. Sometimes, I would rephrase a sentence my wife had just said, just to amuse ourselves in the car and whatnot.

So, in late December I decided maybe I should use that rhythm-seeking part of my brain to write a poem. When I first started composing, I knew nothing about theory. All I knew was that I wanted it to be a somber meditation on the 40th anniversary of Apollo 17, the last moon mission. I grew up about 20 miles away from NASA's Johnson Space Center, and my wife used to be an aerospace engineer for the Space Shuttle project.

I had recently read Kipling's "Recessional", a favorite of mine, so I used it as a pattern for the meter (dah-DUM dah-DUM dah-DUM dah-DUM). It was a wonderful coincidence that the phrase "We came in peace for all mankind" on the Apollo 11 lunar plaque also has the same meter. I found out later this was called iambic tetrameter. In the poem, the first letter of every line is capitalized. I borrowed that too.

In the first draft, there were no stanzas, and my friends said they got lost in the middle when I showed it to them. I changed it to 4-line stanzas, but it still looked too dense, so I added the Roman numerals and Epilogue sub-heading.

That's why the poem is structured the way it is. No theory, just borrowing and reader feedback.

[billy]

the poem got to where it is, and you brought here

[svanhoeven]

FYI Billy, I put the poem in a text editor to look at a revision without all the initial caps on each line, with caps only at the beginning of sentences.

It looked kind of funky to me, maybe because the caps have been in there since I started on it. Another thing that made it look strange is that some of the enjambment runs between stanzas, so there would be a cap by itself in the middle of a stanza. Even though I've tried to make the language less archaic, the form on the page still looks archaic. I like that, so I'm going to stick with the caps.

[Todd]

My stance on the whole caps or no caps thing is that it's purely optional. There is no fast rule on which way is right. I think it's a choice that doesn't impact the final product much.

[billy]

much ...is that a positive much or a neg much

and yeah i realize it;s an option not an edict.

[Todd]

I think it's a choice that doesn't impact the final product.

/fixed