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    Parker Owens
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Disasters, Delights and Other Detours - 16. Sad Experiments

I am indebted to @Emi GS , who introduced me to this form. It can be very expressive.

Meditation

Face
painted with dishonest smirk,
hiding secret thoughts which lurk
deep within the spirit's murk;
naught forgives this natal quirk.

Face
facts discomfortably bleak,
words too sorrowful to speak,
phrases painful, harsh, unique,
fit for fools and frauds so weak.

Face
consequences strait and stern;
judgements doom the soul to burn,
choices made to love or spurn,
lessons one could never learn.

Face
forward toward the winter wind,
stand as ranks are further thinned,
never mind how one has sinned,
now to meet the head that grinned.


At the End

Gone:
speak no more of passion's play,
make no song 'neath skies so gray;
love, all spent, has had its day;
all must wither and decay.

Gone -
humor is poor recompense,
now affection's scampered hence;
winter will my soul commence,
dulling every thought and sense.

Gone
'round the prison cell to trudge,
merciless internal judge
ne'er self-hatred's rock to budge;
every smile or hope to grudge.

Gone
slack the empty, weary eyes,
false the mask in cheerful guise,
silent now the spirit cries,
dead the heart in ashes lies.

 

Bleak Winter

Cold
fusion, what I hoped we'd know,
gifts of loving to bestow,
afternoons spend warm and slow,
leaving us content, aglow.

Cold
storage for the time we spent;
moments which I'll not repent,
spirit in a fine ferment;
memories you now lament.

Cold
comfort in the biting chill,
that you're thinking of me still;
though it ought my heart to thrill,
yet my dream you'll not fulfill.

Cold
blooded is my broken heart,
wounded by your savage dart;
let my bitter tears now start,
lessons hard did you impart.

Any comment of whatever nature is welcome. Please feel free to leave one.
Copyright © 2017 Parker Owens; All Rights Reserved.
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

Brilliant. I love the doubled-up or quadruple rhyming, and use it myself at times. It's very satisfying to make them work. :)  I think my favorite verse was the last one in  At the End

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@Headstall...Thank you very much, Gary. Making those four rhymes work really does satisfy, you’re right. I think At the End was my own favorite of the three. The form kind of grew on me. You were very kind to comment. 

Edited by Parker Owens
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I like this form.  I'll have to keep it in mind for NaPoWriMo in April.  These are all very good.  They are reminiscent of old poetic masters, and dare I say, have a Shakespearean feel.  You've captured feelings I've been experiencing to a certain extent lately.  It's the January blahs, I think (for me, anyway).  So I find them quite relatable.  

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I like these, I like them very much. Something about the form lends it weight. There is a sense of tromping feet marching over all things bright and beautiful. Hmmm, that doesn't so much seem like something to enjoy but I did.

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4 hours ago, Valkyrie said:

I like this form.  I'll have to keep it in mind for NaPoWriMo in April.  These are all very good.  They are reminiscent of old poetic masters, and dare I say, have a Shakespearean feel.  You've captured feelings I've been experiencing to a certain extent lately.  It's the January blahs, I think (for me, anyway).  So I find them quite relatable.  

 

Yes, these encapsulated the January Drearies all too well. The form is a shift from the sonnet in that these seem more static, more of a tableau than a story. But that is probably more a function of my own concept, and not the form itself. Thank you for reading these!

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3 hours ago, dughlas said:

I like these, I like them very much. Something about the form lends it weight. There is a sense of tromping feet marching over all things bright and beautiful. Hmmm, that doesn't so much seem like something to enjoy but I did.

 

These definitely have an insistence about them. I think the meter and the four line rhymes have a lot to do with that. I am very glad you liked these, and am grateful you chose to read them. 

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I really like the form , weighty , measured and definite. Perfect for the continuity of imagery flowing through all three of the works . They have however left me feeling a little bleak and hollow , and a lot introspective.

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13 hours ago, deville said:

I really like the form , weighty , measured and definite. Perfect for the continuity of imagery flowing through all three of the works . They have however left me feeling a little bleak and hollow , and a lot introspective.

 

The meter, with its strong first beat, makes each line seem firm and declarative - weighty, as you say. It was hard being as direct as the meter seemed to want. Yet I agree, too, that the final results left me feeling drained and desolate. I am glad you found the form agreeable, but I regret any discomfort I caused.

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4 hours ago, Mikiesboy said:

too sad for me ... in my current state of mind.. but well written as always

 

 I regret making you sad in any way. I appreciate your reading these, and value your comments.

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2 hours ago, Parker Owens said:

 

 I regret making you sad in any way. I appreciate your reading these, and value your comments.

you didnt make me sad Parker xoxxo 

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4 hours ago, Parker Owens said:

 

The meter, with its strong first beat, makes each line seem firm and declarative - weighty, as you say. It was hard being as direct as the meter seemed to want. Yet I agree, too, that the final results left me feeling drained and desolate. I am glad you found the form agreeable, but I regret any discomfort I caused.

The effort you take to make each piece perfect in itself, is much appreciated , as is your sharing of them with us. Being left bleak and hollow are my own , I own them , but introspection is always good. 

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1 hour ago, deville said:

The effort you take to make each piece perfect in itself, is much appreciated , as is your sharing of them with us. Being left bleak and hollow are my own , I own them , but introspection is always good. 

 

Thank you. I am very grateful for your thinking on these. And yes, introspection is often good. 

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Hmm ... Another one I missed. Each of these three are sad, yes, but bleak is the word that comes to mind the most. The grey, cold, sometimes bitter words are perfect. Uncompromising, uncomfortable, but perfect. 

Quote

Face 
forward toward the winter wind, 
stand as ranks are further thinned, 
never mind how one has sinned, 
now to meet the head that grinned. 

This is the stanza which gave me a chill up my spine. 

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1 hour ago, northie said:

Hmm ... Another one I missed. Each of these three are sad, yes, but bleak is the word that comes to mind the most. The grey, cold, sometimes bitter words are perfect. Uncompromising, uncomfortable, but perfect. 

This is the stanza which gave me a chill up my spine. 

 

Thank you so much for writing this. I appreciate how well you characterized these. I think it is the trochaic meter that helps reinforce their uncompromising feeling. Definitely, I felt a bleakness, and an emptiness as these were written. I suspect winter may have been the culprit. Again, many thanks.

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