Daily writing prompts from June 9th, 2008 to December 31st, 2022
Saturday May 25th, 2019
The exercise: Write a four line poem about: doubts. Mine: Like: Where was Buddy now, and when and where were Its last communications? If it was so loyal, who else could order All these eliminations?
Ah, another twist! Someone else is giving Buddy orders, or he's decided to act on his own? I'm liking how this is developing :) I'm posting all of part II so far, since I've continued over verses quite a lot and I think it's getting hard to see the poem one verse at a time. This is probably the last time I can do so in one post though :)
Part II (Doubt is the last verse) The timbers creak, the rigging snaps; the air Is filled with salt. To North and East the waves Mount up: the ship turns South to race the storm — it dare not halt — and lightning strikes the sea.
Impediments are all around: dark rocks On which a ship can run aground, pale sand- Bars where old mermaids sing; and far too close The whirlpool called The King. St. Elmo’s fire
Is like a dancer, leaping from the masts. The Sailor shouts instructions to the bu- sy crew, and from the Crow’s Nest comes a cry: now land heaves into view. The map denies
That anything exists here in this place, But land is resolutely taking up This space. The ship approaches calmer seas As something gets knocked loose. The Sailor swears.
They settle in a nat’ral harbour, watch- -ing stars fill in the sky. The stars are wrong And in the dark of night the Sailor won- -ders why. When morning breaks they launch a boat.
Six men row hard to this new land and beach Where narrow sand meets glassy rock. They drag The boat above the tide-line, look about And with some shock find steps - man-made - that lead
First up, then down into a curving worm- -made world. These tunnels sprawl for miles they find, Some end in ice and some in flames. Odd carv- -ings hint at diff’rent history and facts.
They pose more questions than they answer. How The men proceed is cautious, testing ev’- -ry curve and floor. A shadow forms behind Them all, occluding where they were before.
At last a door suggests a purpose to This twisting endless maze, but it is lock’d And as they turn the Shadow fades, evad- -ing bright-eyed, questing gaze. The sailor calls
For orders. Doubts are voiced and set aside, Some lock-picks found and with some trouble, o- -pen wide the door. The Shadow draws togeth- -er — what is laid out gleaming on the floor?
Greg - this one was meant to convey the doubt the police had about the Master's denial of involvement, as in - if you not, then who? Ain't nobody we can think of.
Doing this in a poetic format is severely limiting. I'm enjoying the challenge, but it drives me a little crazy some weeks.
Thank you for posting all of this together. It allows me to fully appreciate the hell of a job you're doing with this poem. Part II is danged fantastic.
2 comments:
Ah, another twist! Someone else is giving Buddy orders, or he's decided to act on his own? I'm liking how this is developing :)
I'm posting all of part II so far, since I've continued over verses quite a lot and I think it's getting hard to see the poem one verse at a time. This is probably the last time I can do so in one post though :)
Part II (Doubt is the last verse)
The timbers creak, the rigging snaps; the air
Is filled with salt. To North and East the waves
Mount up: the ship turns South to race the storm
— it dare not halt — and lightning strikes the sea.
Impediments are all around: dark rocks
On which a ship can run aground, pale sand-
Bars where old mermaids sing; and far too close
The whirlpool called The King. St. Elmo’s fire
Is like a dancer, leaping from the masts.
The Sailor shouts instructions to the bu-
sy crew, and from the Crow’s Nest comes a cry:
now land heaves into view. The map denies
That anything exists here in this place,
But land is resolutely taking up
This space. The ship approaches calmer seas
As something gets knocked loose. The Sailor swears.
They settle in a nat’ral harbour, watch-
-ing stars fill in the sky. The stars are wrong
And in the dark of night the Sailor won-
-ders why. When morning breaks they launch a boat.
Six men row hard to this new land and beach
Where narrow sand meets glassy rock. They drag
The boat above the tide-line, look about
And with some shock find steps - man-made - that lead
First up, then down into a curving worm-
-made world. These tunnels sprawl for miles they find,
Some end in ice and some in flames. Odd carv-
-ings hint at diff’rent history and facts.
They pose more questions than they answer. How
The men proceed is cautious, testing ev’-
-ry curve and floor. A shadow forms behind
Them all, occluding where they were before.
At last a door suggests a purpose to
This twisting endless maze, but it is lock’d
And as they turn the Shadow fades, evad-
-ing bright-eyed, questing gaze. The sailor calls
For orders. Doubts are voiced and set aside,
Some lock-picks found and with some trouble, o-
-pen wide the door. The Shadow draws togeth-
-er — what is laid out gleaming on the floor?
Greg - this one was meant to convey the doubt the police had about the Master's denial of involvement, as in - if you not, then who? Ain't nobody we can think of.
Doing this in a poetic format is severely limiting. I'm enjoying the challenge, but it drives me a little crazy some weeks.
Thank you for posting all of this together. It allows me to fully appreciate the hell of a job you're doing with this poem. Part II is danged fantastic.
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