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The nymph steals the farm-son (Sonnet) by <~> Before I captured you, you sought
meat and bread and peace.
My turnings bade you cease
seeking solitude that old life brought.
I swept the earth
stippling stubble in grooves
and chains of dance;
moved your heart to gambol,
stole you from your ramble,
melted you, stubborn man.
You spied my moves
and judged my worth,
left behind hoe and plow
and dwell with me, now.
Up the ladder:
Poem for Mahmuth
Down the ladder:
Heroes to the End
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: 9.333333
Posted: October 10, 2005 7:40 AM PDT; Last modified: January 11, 2006 11:43 AM PSTWeighted score: 5.516546 Overall Rank: 2646 Comments:
[9]
Dovina @ 216.117.239.186
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10-Oct-05/6:43 PM
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Reply
Verse 2 is especially nice.
The lathe of fact indeed. :(
I love "turn wooden on the lathe of fact", the best image on poemranker in months and the lynchpin, I think, of this poem.
In the original you turned wooden, right? I think that would be better. The rest loses me. I don't know what distinction you're making between November and December (or heart and breast), and can't feel the metaphor of ghosts (which are essentially metaphors, no?) And are you lathing things into firewood? How odd.
november is cold, but decmber is colder still, is what i was going for. there are also the holidays to consider, although that analogy is very abstruse.
and yes, i am lathing into firewood. i wonder if my love is wasted on him. thank you for the compliment.
'Despite November in my heart/and December at my breast'-- nice. I admit I was going to simply congratulate ou on using November as opposed to another month, but the addition of December actually works.
Then again, what else would one expect of you, dear Tilde?
I want lines 5 and 8 - lathe wonderful use of it too.
"phantoms of future turn wooden on the lathe of fact." !!!
This is a terrible liberty. :(
i know, i know.
Sweet, nearly cute :-)
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