Poetry Archives - Elemmírë

I read some Kipling and I thought

That Kipling's way was how I ought

To make my verses all the time –

And yet – I couldn't make mine rhyme.

And Beowulf – oh my poor head!

“What happened to the rhymes?” I said.

Alliteration's good, it's true –

But I must have a rhyme or two.

Shakespeare's sonnets far beyond

My little rhyming powers yawned.

And what is left he didn't say?

I really thought of naught that day.

Hiawatha (how to pronounce?)

My Indian names made readers trounce

Me, so I thought I'd leave alone

Adventures of “Turrintelone”.

Befuddled, muddled, and bemused,

I can't make poems as they used.

And so I really must just now

Use styling of my own, I trow.

n.b. – This is not autobiographical.

Once I was happy, dutyless, free,

All had I, life a guardless tree –

Its fruit at my hand, I a willing picker –

Now taste I Death – and find it bitter.

Life I tasted, squandered, wasted,

No joy in money, honey desweeted –

Life expunged of every glitter –

Now taste I Death – and find it bitter.

I drained the cup, and found it dry

Hopeless-hoping, for death longed I –

For Death long longing, peace my desire –

Now taste I Death – and find it bitter.

Death, thought I, would ease my pain,

Still dead longing in ceasing strain –

For Death I longed, I thought it fitter –

Now taste I Death – and the taste is bitter.

This is a poem I wrote somewhat recently. It is rather an experiment for me, the subjects of my other attempts at poetry having been rather lighter in tone; but I think this turned out pretty well. Interestingly, the “motif” or “refrain” of the poem was suggested to me when we were reading about the illness of Hezekiah, when Isaiah told the king he would die and Hezekiah “turned his face to the wall” in bitterness. I don't suggest any similarity between the Hebrew king and the unknown narrator of this poem, but it is interesting to see where the idea of it came from.

Elemmírë

Category: Poetry

Muddled—A Poem

A Poem: Bitter the Taste