The churlish wind batters the car.
There are no dead bodies beneath.
What has happened has already happened.
That was some kind of relief.
If my eyes wept it was because of the stinging wind.
Though no air ever touched my eyes like a thief.
And if I wake, whenever that might be
it's because my somnabulance will be my grief.
I dreamed of grief.
Hi Tony,
The rhyme here is tight and pleasing to the ear, but I'm not sure it adds systematically to the sense you may be wanting to convey. I can picture the poem, in other words, without all that rhyme.
The churlish wind batters the car.
There are no dead bodies beneath.
What has happened has already happened.
XXXXXXX (maybe put thief here?)
If my eyes wept it was because of the stinging wind.
Though no air ever touched my eyes.
And if I wake, whenever that might be
my somnabulance will be my grief.
All this to say the rhyming, though tight, feels a bit rhyme-driven to me. I'd say consider tinkering a bit with it.
Cheers,
John
The rhyme here is tight and pleasing to the ear, but I'm not sure it adds systematically to the sense you may be wanting to convey. I can picture the poem, in other words, without all that rhyme.
The churlish wind batters the car.
There are no dead bodies beneath.
What has happened has already happened.
XXXXXXX (maybe put thief here?)
If my eyes wept it was because of the stinging wind.
Though no air ever touched my eyes.
And if I wake, whenever that might be
my somnabulance will be my grief.
All this to say the rhyming, though tight, feels a bit rhyme-driven to me. I'd say consider tinkering a bit with it.
Cheers,
John
Thanks John and Mac, you're right in that it was/is entirely a rhyme driven piece, so there might not be much left if you kick the scaffold away. Maybe needs to prove a bit in a drawer
Tony
Tony
Counting the beats,
Counting the slow heart beats,
The bleeding to death of time in slow heart beats,
Wakeful they lie.
Robert Graves
Counting the slow heart beats,
The bleeding to death of time in slow heart beats,
Wakeful they lie.
Robert Graves
Just some options, keeping the scaffold.
Thanks Mac for your condensed version. I wanted to keep the fact that it was a poem about a dream, about whatever, but that seems a more concise edit.
I think part of me wants to turn it into a villanelle or something because its so rhyme-based,
Cheers
Tony
I think part of me wants to turn it into a villanelle or something because its so rhyme-based,
Cheers
Tony
Counting the beats,
Counting the slow heart beats,
The bleeding to death of time in slow heart beats,
Wakeful they lie.
Robert Graves
Counting the slow heart beats,
The bleeding to death of time in slow heart beats,
Wakeful they lie.
Robert Graves