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Taste Test
The clean air is fresh enough to bite
the throat as one walks the rocky trails.
It has just rained; the forest mould, ancient,
rises to escape the leaves, and bird song
chatters of mating, and the changes
of the season, and the waters running.
Along the path she is jogging, running,
she unwraps a health bar for a bite.
Up in the sky the trees twist, changes
that escape the sensibility of song,
that meander around the neat trails
following the old pathways, ghost-ancient.
But there are deeper rituals, blood-ancient,
that twist through our veins with the dark fluid running
and off in the woods a creature knows that song.
A wolf or thing-like-wolf, with snarling bite
promised in his teeth as he lopes by the trails,
dashing from side to side as the tangent changes.
She jogs on the path as her breathing changes.
Her body also bears knowledge that is ancient,
as old as her ancestors who died making trails
in forests and hearing beasts running
until the rustle of leaves, and the leap, and bite
that put an end to their lives and their song.
She flees and behind she hears the wolf song
(or not-a-wolf) and his pacing changes,
he leaps and soars through the air to bite!
His fangs cut her cheek with an ancient
litany of fear that sets her heart to running
as blood flows down her cheek in trails.
As she flees far along the twisting trails
her inner fires and blood hear a new song,
a tale of forest life, chasing prey, running
in packs that grow with seasonal changes,
a genetic tale that is just as ancient
as her own, revealed in one sudden bite.
Down trails unknown to humans she follows, her changes
rung through deeper song, her fur shining under ancient
moon, her turn to set the prey running, deliver the swift bite.
the throat as one walks the rocky trails.
It has just rained; the forest mould, ancient,
rises to escape the leaves, and bird song
chatters of mating, and the changes
of the season, and the waters running.
Along the path she is jogging, running,
she unwraps a health bar for a bite.
Up in the sky the trees twist, changes
that escape the sensibility of song,
that meander around the neat trails
following the old pathways, ghost-ancient.
But there are deeper rituals, blood-ancient,
that twist through our veins with the dark fluid running
and off in the woods a creature knows that song.
A wolf or thing-like-wolf, with snarling bite
promised in his teeth as he lopes by the trails,
dashing from side to side as the tangent changes.
She jogs on the path as her breathing changes.
Her body also bears knowledge that is ancient,
as old as her ancestors who died making trails
in forests and hearing beasts running
until the rustle of leaves, and the leap, and bite
that put an end to their lives and their song.
She flees and behind she hears the wolf song
(or not-a-wolf) and his pacing changes,
he leaps and soars through the air to bite!
His fangs cut her cheek with an ancient
litany of fear that sets her heart to running
as blood flows down her cheek in trails.
As she flees far along the twisting trails
her inner fires and blood hear a new song,
a tale of forest life, chasing prey, running
in packs that grow with seasonal changes,
a genetic tale that is just as ancient
as her own, revealed in one sudden bite.
Down trails unknown to humans she follows, her changes
rung through deeper song, her fur shining under ancient
moon, her turn to set the prey running, deliver the swift bite.
Unless I completely whiffed on this one, it's about a lady getting attacked by a werewolf and becoming one herself. Though it could also be a metaphor for her reaching a new level in her passion for jogging.
I like the structure of this one. There's no meter, and the line lengths are kept to roughly the same, just whatever it takes to get to the repeated end words without stretching them too far one way or the other from an average. There doesn't appear to be a scheme to which way you arranged the end words, probably just whatever would fit the narrative best. I was wondering whether you'd make sure each word got used in all 6 lines, for instance, but the first 2 stanzas both use "song" in the 4th line and "trails" gets used twice in the 5th. It's so close to working that I wonder if you were trying and made a mistake or just couldn't get it to work. It looks like the only similar consideration is that the 1st line always uses the same word as the 6th line from the previous stanza, even looping from beginning to end, though the differently formatted extra stanza stands apart in several ways. It still uses the same 6 words, but combined into 3 lines now, and the line lengths aren't as evenly distributed into those 6 pieces between the repeated words.
Anyway, this was an interesting poem, and this will be a classic problem of "it's a shame one of these has to finish last," because they're both put together well.
I like the structure of this one. There's no meter, and the line lengths are kept to roughly the same, just whatever it takes to get to the repeated end words without stretching them too far one way or the other from an average. There doesn't appear to be a scheme to which way you arranged the end words, probably just whatever would fit the narrative best. I was wondering whether you'd make sure each word got used in all 6 lines, for instance, but the first 2 stanzas both use "song" in the 4th line and "trails" gets used twice in the 5th. It's so close to working that I wonder if you were trying and made a mistake or just couldn't get it to work. It looks like the only similar consideration is that the 1st line always uses the same word as the 6th line from the previous stanza, even looping from beginning to end, though the differently formatted extra stanza stands apart in several ways. It still uses the same 6 words, but combined into 3 lines now, and the line lengths aren't as evenly distributed into those 6 pieces between the repeated words.
Anyway, this was an interesting poem, and this will be a classic problem of "it's a shame one of these has to finish last," because they're both put together well.
Ah, my ancient enemy:
The Sestina. The link there will show the proper swirling pattern for the end words--basically, the 1st word in one stanza is 2nd in the next, the 2nd is 4th, and the 3rd is 6th. To fill in the odd numbered lines, then, you go backwards: the 4th word becomes 5th, the 5th word 3rd, and the 6th word 1st. It's always struck me as more of a drinking game than a poetic form, the beer pong of prosody, if you will... :)
The only slip-up I see here could be easily solved be swapping lines 4 and 5 in the 2nd stanza: I'm not finding "trails" getting used twice anywhere, >>Pascoite. As always, I'd prefer if the lines had meter, but then I'm nutty that way.
The story's fun, too. I'd recommend bringing Our Heroine in in the first stanza by using "she" instead of "one" in the second line, though, just to set the specific scene. I also wondered about the werewolf being out during daylight hours, but this is a fun one all around.
Mike
The Sestina. The link there will show the proper swirling pattern for the end words--basically, the 1st word in one stanza is 2nd in the next, the 2nd is 4th, and the 3rd is 6th. To fill in the odd numbered lines, then, you go backwards: the 4th word becomes 5th, the 5th word 3rd, and the 6th word 1st. It's always struck me as more of a drinking game than a poetic form, the beer pong of prosody, if you will... :)
The only slip-up I see here could be easily solved be swapping lines 4 and 5 in the 2nd stanza: I'm not finding "trails" getting used twice anywhere, >>Pascoite. As always, I'd prefer if the lines had meter, but then I'm nutty that way.
The story's fun, too. I'd recommend bringing Our Heroine in in the first stanza by using "she" instead of "one" in the second line, though, just to set the specific scene. I also wondered about the werewolf being out during daylight hours, but this is a fun one all around.
Mike
>>Baal Bunny
"Trails" ends the 5th lines of both the 2nd and 3rd stanzas, just like "song" ends the 4th line of both the 1st and 2nd stanzas. I don't know if that's okay for the form, but since the rest of the words never occupied the same line twice, I assumed it was an oversight.
"Trails" ends the 5th lines of both the 2nd and 3rd stanzas, just like "song" ends the 4th line of both the 1st and 2nd stanzas. I don't know if that's okay for the form, but since the rest of the words never occupied the same line twice, I assumed it was an oversight.
>>Pascoite
OK, there it is:
Yeah, switching the 4th and 5th lines of the 2nd stanza would solve both problems 'cause "trails" is supposed to be 4th in that stanza and "song" is supposed to be 5th. Fortunately, the two phrases are in apposition, so switching them won't upset the grammar of the sentence at all.
Mike, Grammar Nerd
OK, there it is:
Yeah, switching the 4th and 5th lines of the 2nd stanza would solve both problems 'cause "trails" is supposed to be 4th in that stanza and "song" is supposed to be 5th. Fortunately, the two phrases are in apposition, so switching them won't upset the grammar of the sentence at all.
Mike, Grammar Nerd
Within the space of loosened meter running
Like bells within the towers, ring the changes
that channel and constrict this lupine song.
It follows modern sentiments and ancient
that carry meaning on as off it trails
to focus on delivering its bite.
Like bells within the towers, ring the changes
that channel and constrict this lupine song.
It follows modern sentiments and ancient
that carry meaning on as off it trails
to focus on delivering its bite.
So at this point:
We've got an audience of one? Time to start doing market research on >>Pascoite... :)
Still, congrats, GGA. Just switch those lines, and you'll be fine. And it did occur to me the other day that I had written a sestina on a similar subject several years ago that I could never find a market for. So I might as well post it here instead...
Mike
Transformance Anxiety
Doubtful and stammering, blinking, confused,
Backing away with a Plasticine grin,
Edward refuses to stare at her paws.
Lauren is lapping her tea with dispatch,
Fur growing everywhere, thick, unrestrained,
Steam from her cup in a wreath 'round her snout.
"Morning," she says, and the word from her snout
Growls in his ears though it isn't confused,
Clear, understandable, sense unrestrained
Even with fangs— But his thoughts at her grin
Freeze, and he stumbles. She leaps with dispatch;
Squeaking, he finds himself caught in her paws.
"Something the matter?" They're gentle, those paws,
Soft as the question that curls from her snout.
"Nothing!" he gargles, then fearing dispatch,
Grabs for the door. "Gotta go!" So confused,
Sprinting, he reaches the sidewalk. His grin
Splinters to see only wolves unrestrained.
Yes, they're all dressed, and they walk unrestrained—
Upright with shoes somehow fitting their paws—
Cellphones to ears as they chat and they grin.
Still, with amazement he looks snout to snout.
Yesterday, everything wasn't confused.
Life was so leisurely, slow to dispatch.
Now, in the morning, the Times-Post-Dispatch
Lacks the familiar, displays unrestrained
Concepts and headlines that leave him confused:
Unknown celebrities waving their paws;
Words unpronounceable minus a snout;
Products for fur and for toothiest grin—
"Edward?" It's Lauren, her uncertain grin
Shaking him out of his funk with dispatch.
"Sorry," he mutters. "I haven't a snout,
Can't understand how to live unrestrained.
Give me a week, I'll be off of your paws."
"Edward..." She sighs. "It's okay you're confused.
"Stay." With her grin comes her laugh unrestrained.
"Here's a dispatch: you're with me. Take my paws."
Kissing her snout, he's no longer confused.
We've got an audience of one? Time to start doing market research on >>Pascoite... :)
Still, congrats, GGA. Just switch those lines, and you'll be fine. And it did occur to me the other day that I had written a sestina on a similar subject several years ago that I could never find a market for. So I might as well post it here instead...
Mike
Transformance Anxiety
Doubtful and stammering, blinking, confused,
Backing away with a Plasticine grin,
Edward refuses to stare at her paws.
Lauren is lapping her tea with dispatch,
Fur growing everywhere, thick, unrestrained,
Steam from her cup in a wreath 'round her snout.
"Morning," she says, and the word from her snout
Growls in his ears though it isn't confused,
Clear, understandable, sense unrestrained
Even with fangs— But his thoughts at her grin
Freeze, and he stumbles. She leaps with dispatch;
Squeaking, he finds himself caught in her paws.
"Something the matter?" They're gentle, those paws,
Soft as the question that curls from her snout.
"Nothing!" he gargles, then fearing dispatch,
Grabs for the door. "Gotta go!" So confused,
Sprinting, he reaches the sidewalk. His grin
Splinters to see only wolves unrestrained.
Yes, they're all dressed, and they walk unrestrained—
Upright with shoes somehow fitting their paws—
Cellphones to ears as they chat and they grin.
Still, with amazement he looks snout to snout.
Yesterday, everything wasn't confused.
Life was so leisurely, slow to dispatch.
Now, in the morning, the Times-Post-Dispatch
Lacks the familiar, displays unrestrained
Concepts and headlines that leave him confused:
Unknown celebrities waving their paws;
Words unpronounceable minus a snout;
Products for fur and for toothiest grin—
"Edward?" It's Lauren, her uncertain grin
Shaking him out of his funk with dispatch.
"Sorry," he mutters. "I haven't a snout,
Can't understand how to live unrestrained.
Give me a week, I'll be off of your paws."
"Edward..." She sighs. "It's okay you're confused.
"Stay." With her grin comes her laugh unrestrained.
"Here's a dispatch: you're with me. Take my paws."
Kissing her snout, he's no longer confused.
>>Baal Bunny
But at least 19 people voted on prompts. One would think they had at least some passing interest in participating, unless they're sadists who just want to give a difficult prompt to those who are. Not even the organizer entered this round...
But at least 19 people voted on prompts. One would think they had at least some passing interest in participating, unless they're sadists who just want to give a difficult prompt to those who are. Not even the organizer entered this round...
>>Pascoite
The prompt voting is different now. If you rank a prompt 'great' it gets 3 points, for example. So that number 19 isn't to be trusted. Never can trust a prime.
At least 7 people submitted prompts though.
The prompt voting is different now. If you rank a prompt 'great' it gets 3 points, for example. So that number 19 isn't to be trusted. Never can trust a prime.
At least 7 people submitted prompts though.
>>Pascoite
>>Miller Minus
And it might be:
That folks just couldn't think of a poem for the prompt when the cheese was against the wall--or whatever the expression is. I would also like to point out that, if the "coin toss" for the prompt here had gone the other way, I would've had my prompts selected for the first time ever both here and over in the Pony minific round that ran simultaneously, and that I came in dead last in both competitions. :)
Mike, Noting Things
>>Miller Minus
And it might be:
That folks just couldn't think of a poem for the prompt when the cheese was against the wall--or whatever the expression is. I would also like to point out that, if the "coin toss" for the prompt here had gone the other way, I would've had my prompts selected for the first time ever both here and over in the Pony minific round that ran simultaneously, and that I came in dead last in both competitions. :)
Mike, Noting Things