Writer of words. Builder of worlds.

Tag: poetry

Stars and Night: A Poem

This poem is an attempt to use the same structure/rhyming scheme as Robert Frost’s Fire and Ice.

Can we place trust in distant stars
When it is night?
When past regrets deal out their scars
When times of darkness come to pass
Will blackness truly blind our sight?
Or will hope, fearless, pierce the dark
And shine through tiny points of light?
Could just one spark
Light up the night?

Howl’s Moving Castle and John Donne’s ‘Song’

Note: this post contains spoilers for the novel Howl’s Moving Castle, which by the way is vastly different from the movie adaptation. If you’ve only seen the movie, reading this will probably confuse you.

Diana Wynne Jones was a genius.
If I were to explain all the ways her genius comes through her writing, I’d be here all day. But I’m going to focus on one thing — her use of the poem Song (by John Donne) in her novel Howl’s Moving Castle.

Sonnetina

This poem is a product of the fact that I couldn’t get past the similarity of the words ‘sonnet’ and ‘sonata’ out of my head (and they do have similar roots). I’m not sure what to take from this, other than that puns may not always be the best basis for poetry.

Begin as always with a tonic theme
Expositing a stately melody
Then answer dominant enters the scene
A contrast in the mood and harmony
Develop, then, the themes that went before
In exploration of some modulations
Where fragmentary tunes repeat once more
In sequences that lead to revelation
Present again theme one and then theme two
Now recapitulating, coming home
But both now in the tonic key ensue
No more in modulations will they roam
And thus by following the forms of art
We, on a journey, take the human heart

Night, Lake: A Poem

Cold night 
Deep lake 
Stars bright
Moon white
Still water 
Mirrors sky 
Stone splashes 
Breaking images 
Rippling shimmering 
Moonlight glimmering 
Starlight flickering 
Widening waves 
Slowly settle 
Still again 
Cold lake 
Deep night

Cockatoos: A Poem

All is still

The sun

Sinks heavy

Beneath the pink-rimmed world

The shadows grow long

And dark

And quiet.

Then suddenly a cacophony of white shapes shrieking squawking clamouring cackling burst into the air in a cloud of movement a shout against the growing dark like beacons shining they fight and flap and fly through the sunset-streaked sky

And then they settle

Into heavy branches

They rest

In the long shadows

And all is still.

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