Reply
Tue 5 Oct, 2004 10:09 am
Hendecasyllables
Our lives, entwined, move silently across a
winding path, flanked by rough-hewn thorny brambles
and blood-red roses, content to lend beauty
to the brambles gnarled existence. The path takes
many turns, but in our hearts, that know far more
than the oft-touted mind, our destination
is clear, but for the brambles. The roses scoff
and say: "It's not the thorns you fear that will be
your undoing. It is the mirror. Look to
the roses." Wiser now, I see a time for
celebration with tarnished, wilted roses.
You put in some time on this one Cav. Very nice. Not for the lay reader, though...
This has sort of become my mental gymnastics, 11 syllables, 11 lines. I like to force myself into a structure sometimes. I envy Swinburne, who could write pages in hendecasyllables, and make it all rhyme as well.
I'm not a huge fan of modern rhyming poetry, as most of it is trite garbage. I think it's become a bit of a lost art.
There is a movement afoot to bring rhyming poetry back. Not an easy horse to break, but it can run like Seabiscuit when done well...
Stumble It!
Tweet This
Bookmark on Delicious
Share on Facebook
Share on MySpace