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Hole in the Sky
Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul
Of the wide world dreaming on things to come,
Can yet the lease of my true love control,
Supposed as forfeit to a confined doom.
The mortal moon hath her eclipse endured,
And the sad augurs mock their own presage;
Incertainties now crown themselves assured,
And peace proclaims olives of endless age.
Now with the drops of this most balmy time,
My love looks fresh, and Death to me subscribes,
Since, spite of him, I'll live in this poor rhyme,
While he insults o'er dull and speechless tribes:
And thou in this shalt find thy monument,
When tyrants' crests and tombs of brass are spent.
–William Shakespeare
Of the wide world dreaming on things to come,
Can yet the lease of my true love control,
Supposed as forfeit to a confined doom.
The mortal moon hath her eclipse endured,
And the sad augurs mock their own presage;
Incertainties now crown themselves assured,
And peace proclaims olives of endless age.
Now with the drops of this most balmy time,
My love looks fresh, and Death to me subscribes,
Since, spite of him, I'll live in this poor rhyme,
While he insults o'er dull and speechless tribes:
And thou in this shalt find thy monument,
When tyrants' crests and tombs of brass are spent.
–William Shakespeare
Interesting that a second story has focused on the moon, given the prompt. At least I assume the poem's shape is supposed to evoke a crescent moon. I guess that as the only capitalized word, the ending line is being given emphasis?
As such an abstract poem, it's not the kind I'm likely to get as much from, so I'm mostly limited to the aesthetic effect it had on me, but I liked it. The shape, the language choice, and the ominous tone produce a concerted effect. I can't say much more constructive than I liked it.
As such an abstract poem, it's not the kind I'm likely to get as much from, so I'm mostly limited to the aesthetic effect it had on me, but I liked it. The shape, the language choice, and the ominous tone produce a concerted effect. I can't say much more constructive than I liked it.
Clever. Took me a second to figure out the ‘poem within a poem’ thing, and I almost wrote it off when I saw it, but I think I’ve come around. Fear is the mind killer.
I’m honestly not sure how to critique this. Given the framework you’ve been operating in it seems rather well done. The hidden text could be interpreted as the idea that in the face of the all consuming dread of the future we forget to see the larger picture, but there I go projecting again.
This reminded me of A FLEet|ng LIght |n thE DArknEsS, so now I have to go read that again.
I’m honestly not sure how to critique this. Given the framework you’ve been operating in it seems rather well done. The hidden text could be interpreted as the idea that in the face of the all consuming dread of the future we forget to see the larger picture, but there I go projecting again.
This reminded me of A FLEet|ng LIght |n thE DArknEsS, so now I have to go read that again.
When I first saw this one:
The way the words were arranged immediately made me think of blackout poetry. But since there were no big black bars, I couldn't see how that could be the case, so I was left confused. Thank you, >>MrExtra, for pointing out the trick of selecting the whole page to see the original text that's being deconstructed. I'd suggest next time, though, author, that you use the "spoiler" tag so the actual black bars will show up and immediately tell readers like me and >>Pascoite what's going on.
As for the poem itself, the whole fear thing is certainly timely, and given the limited selection of words available in blackout poetry, it's expressed pretty well. Nicely done.
Mike
The way the words were arranged immediately made me think of blackout poetry. But since there were no big black bars, I couldn't see how that could be the case, so I was left confused. Thank you, >>MrExtra, for pointing out the trick of selecting the whole page to see the original text that's being deconstructed. I'd suggest next time, though, author, that you use the "spoiler" tag so the actual black bars will show up and immediately tell readers like me and >>Pascoite what's going on.
As for the poem itself, the whole fear thing is certainly timely, and given the limited selection of words available in blackout poetry, it's expressed pretty well. Nicely done.
Mike
Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
Ding-dong.
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
Ding-dong.