Any new verse?

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Any new verse?

Postby thenewaustria » Thu Jul 15, 2004 12:36 am

Again,

I enjoy reading everyone's work
and no one has been posting lately

not even Saturn

I think he posted last
but no one else
come on
Saturn, do you have anything new?

cheers
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More verse!

Postby Saturn » Thu Jul 15, 2004 9:51 pm

I too have noticed the distinct lack of posts in the last week. I check every day to see if anyone's there - you normal people and your holidays!!

Anyway, my muse has been on holiday also, leaving me forlorn, so I'll give you an old one of mine, on a different, less depressing theme than normal, albeit in the same cliched, lumpen verse.

Passing fragrance.
How sweet are life’s passing pleasures,
When bestowed in such little measures?
Like a sudden odour of fragrant perfume
Which, girls in passing carelessly bloom.
‘Tis a brief glimpse of the promised land,
So vivid you can almost grasp it in hand.
A tantalising bite of Love’s promised fruit
Which populates the air, sweetly pollutes.
Then that bright illusion will slowly fade,
As Elysium's eclipsed by reality’s shade.
____
"Oh what a misery it is to have an intellect in splints".
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I must acknowledge

Postby MonroeDoctrine » Fri Jul 16, 2004 7:41 pm

I must pay some respects to you Stephen for having a bit of a twist to the end of your poem! Tres bien!
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Man vs Beast

Postby MonroeDoctrine » Fri Jul 16, 2004 8:35 pm

Damn this mortal coil wrapped around me!
Each sense, in a sense makes minuscule sense.
This desire to meditate comes whence?
To be continued...
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Here's another bad poem!

Postby Saturn » Sat Jul 17, 2004 4:01 pm

Here's another of my juvenilia pieces:

‘Heroes of War’: a pacifist’s song.
Speak not to me of the ‘heroics’ of war
Ye scarlet-laced players of Ares’ sport.
Talk to the orphaned, widowed and sore,
Worship no more Death’s lusty consort.
Make no idols of men for new folklore,
The muses disown such ignoble resort.
No winners remain but the bitter freeze
And the desolation that warfare sees.

Talk not of victory at any price,
Of the 'valorous' purpose of the fight
(As you lead the sacrifice like mice,
Or sheep driven off precarious height).
Speak not of killing, not thinking twice
Lucifer himself would meditate their plight.
Tell me not conflict will bring forth peace,
Is freedom born with the bomb’s release?

Persuade me not it’s justifiable to kill,
“Dulce et decorum...” is a foolish creed
When compelled to fight against your will.
Can murder in battle list others to bleed,
Homicide “pro patria” is killing still?
War is begot of avarice and greed,
So, sound no more the soldier’s song,
Music can’t drown the cries of wrong.

Why should we pride in what they’ve done,
Ignore the decimated casualties who survive,
When no objective is seen to be won.
The disemboweled, lifeless dead won’t revive,
Few are left to mourn those who’re gone.
Who after war is seen to prosper or thrive?
Do the shattered remnants exultantly gloat,
Having fought to keep the ‘freedom’ of vote?

Speak to those whose loved ones are dead,
Who know the terrible emptiness of loss,
Waking each morning to a cold, barren bed,
This heartache victory will not gloss.
So, you whom to bleeding Mars art wed;
Lovers of strategy, tactic and martial ethos,
Expend no more lives like broken toys,
Un-people not the world to sack another Troy.
_____

Apologies to the god Apollo for writing such a bad poem!
"Oh what a misery it is to have an intellect in splints".
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A poem written at the crossroads of youth

Postby Saturn » Sun Jul 18, 2004 10:36 pm

This is a little ditty I wrote just as I left University, with all the uncertainty that that event implies. It is about being at a fork in the road which offers many paths, all of them frightening.

Midday of a fool.

Too old for school,
Supposedly in prime,
The midday of a fool
Is an Autumnal time,
An in-between, cruel
Halfway-up climb;
Whether we ascend
Or downwards tend.
Indecision will prevail,
Doubt creep around,
Commitments will quail,
Terror might resound,
Resolution may fail
When we are bound
To make up our mind
To leave all behind.

Memories are past,
Old clothes outworn,
Naiveté is off-cast.
We must be reborn;
The present outlast
Of life’s brief morn,
Which seems at’ s rise
Too sweet to reprise.
____
"Oh what a misery it is to have an intellect in splints".
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Postby Despondence » Mon Jul 19, 2004 10:29 am

I think perhaps, Stephen, I shall have to lend you my nickname if you intend to carry on in that vein. You seem to have the better claim to it ;)

Hmm...feel like I must counter with something here...

Conversations
"Unruly world, rebellious Universe!
Bestir thy starr'd space and seed thy sea
With answers to enlighten, not to curse
The youngest tendril of thy growing tree.
Thou know'st, sure as all is known to thee,
The cause of mankind's malady of late:
Why battles rage and blood doth spill in hate,
When in thy likeliness we ought to be?
O humbled scribe is me - from chastest den,
I ever called for thee to guide my pen.
Today I wrote: 'What piece of work is Man!'
Yet while a piece fulfilled, not filled with peace,
As darkly echoed in the million-fold
of unmarked graves - where hath thy mercy gone?
- O Mighty One, prithee, that we were told:
In making us, thou must have frowned upon
The young design, or maybe dropped the mould?"

Accosted by such brazen oog-e-lay,
The old receiver heaved a cosmic sigh
That shook the void around the Milky Way,
And caused its arms to rattle in reply.

"Now hear, you speck of congregated dust,
That nature's laws evolved in you the will
To know, but not to learn, if know you must;
Therefore my answers will seem odd, but still.
Of man-kind's brutal nature you would ask?
As I have said before, I'll say again,
That even I to meekness can not task
A self-evolving cloud of hydrogen."

On this reply the poet ponder'd long,
And all around the ages came, and passed
As fleeting moments to the starry throng,
While age and thought onto the poet massed.
It was an aeon thence, that insight dawned
Upon the scribe, who now the silence broke
As up he sprung, but swooned, and loudly yawned
Before upright he to the heavens spoke.

"Indeed, the grander scope, methinks I see -
That Man and stars of equal stuff are made,
And fated by their stellar pedigree,
They end in fiery bursts, or slowly fade;
That burning hot and rushing to an end
A new beginning spells, beyond the strife;
That blowing into bits would serve to send
To every nook of space the seeds of life;
That every some began as one undone;
Was this your basic point, O Mighty One?"

To this, at first, the skies gave no reply,
Which much dismayed the aged questioner.
But then, recalling years had flitted by,
He thought to check his instant messenger.
From contact "U", a recent note that said,
and which our scribe, with mounting ire, read:

"Well now, you heap of convoluted quarks:
You join the dots but fail to see the whole,
That now you'd think a dog the cat that barks -
But seeing none, dismiss the human soul!"

"..."

----------
Have some kind of conclusion coming up, but I didn't quite make it there yet...
Despondence
 

Nicknames

Postby Saturn » Mon Jul 19, 2004 10:48 am

Despondence is indeed a good name (wish I'd thought of it) , but mine should perhaps be Dejection or even Disappointment - two words which sum up the story of my life!

I like the poem - forgive me, if I say I don't understand it - any chance of an explaination?
"Oh what a misery it is to have an intellect in splints".
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Postby Despondence » Mon Jul 19, 2004 11:30 am

I don't know, really - don't look for much of a meaning to it, I would not presume to philosophize. But I like to speculate. I wrote this yesterday, after reading your "Heroes of War" - which by the way was very nicely written.

But, my nick name notwithstanding, I wanted to present a different outlook.. I originally thought to call this little doggerel "Transcendence", but realized that would sort of be giving away the ending. As it evolved, I also found that making it burlesque took some of the edge out of it, in a nice sort of way. I didn't want it to be somber.

The conversation, as I think should be clear, is between a poet an the Universe. The theme is, perhaps (although I'm open to suggestions), the evolution of human thought, and being. Where will it end?
Last edited by Despondence on Mon Jul 19, 2004 11:37 am, edited 1 time in total.
Despondence
 

Human thought

Postby Saturn » Mon Jul 19, 2004 11:35 am

Human thought will only end with humanity itself - if the imagination dies, so will thought.

All humanity's acheivements are born of thought, before action.

Arts, sciences and philosophies will continue to evolve - the bounds of imagination are limitless.
"Oh what a misery it is to have an intellect in splints".
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Postby Despondence » Mon Jul 19, 2004 11:58 am

Well, ok - while I won't give you argument there, your assertions do come out as a bit anthropocentric in my ears. I like to take a more mundane approach, and admit to ignorange on the grander scheme of things (which is my I'm endowing the voice of the "universe" with a less-than-cordial personality: what's a human to him? That's for him to know, and for us to find out...). I disagree that "the bounds of imagination are limitless." We're very much bound by our frame of reference - but that's exactly the challenge....
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Continued

Postby MonroeDoctrine » Mon Jul 19, 2004 8:24 pm

Stanza I
Damn this mortal coil wrapped around me!
Each sense, in a sense makes minuscule sense.
This desire to meditate comes whence?
If I were immortal, then I would be free.
Peace
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Who's up for a challenge?

Postby Saturn » Mon Jul 19, 2004 11:07 pm

:roll: I don't know if anybody's interested in reading my version of Romeo and Juliet. It's the longest and most archaic poem I've written. It was written over the course of a few months about three years ago and revised continually for about a year afterwards (though I'm sure there are still plenty of spelling mistakes).

It's far too long to be pasted on here, so if anyone has time to spare I would greatly appreciate some feedback, abuse, scorn or whatever either posted here, or on my own website:

http://groups.msn.com/poetryofthetriumvirate

Look at the Documents section.

I look forward to an opinion on this Herculean labour undertaken in my youthful folly.

P.S. For the curious, or the suckers for punishment there's also some photos of yours truly!! :roll:
"Oh what a misery it is to have an intellect in splints".
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Postby thenewaustria » Thu Jul 22, 2004 8:04 pm

I really liked the fragment you posted

Despondence

do you ever write " modern" sounding stuff

or only more archaic? And to Stephen Saturn, I would like to read any verse you have

the link to your site would not work for me

I tried
just curious, do any of you want to write full time? or just as a hobby? How old is everyone, I mean, how long have you all been writing?

cheers
colin
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Link

Postby Saturn » Fri Jul 23, 2004 3:02 pm

The link works fine for me - perhaps because I'm the mananger.

Did you try typing it in?

You must have reached the site as I received an e-mail asking approval for your membership of my group (not much of a group really seeing as there's only two members!)
"Oh what a misery it is to have an intellect in splints".
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