Have been wrestling with this one for a while. Originally wrote prose while waiting to meet a professor, and then rewrote it as a poem while waiting for said professor (a different meeting though).
Still not satisfied with it, have given it up as a lost cause. I have it in my head, just can't express it.
There, once, was a singer of great repute.
People thronged to his concerts, to witness his mastery.
Through his songs, he consorted with the angels themselves.
Intense penance.
One day, mid-concert, he stopped singing.
Never again did he sing, the frown of devotion gone forever.
But, the divine song he always heard, and the smile on his lips never fell.
Immense bliss.
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6 comments:
Perhaps it will sound better as prose. I quite like the title and the form, though.
(Deleted the previous comment; spelling mistake)
A partisan judge did once say,
that prose and poetry were both child's play,
one needs you to break sentences in time,
and the other, well, you just have to rhyme.
But the exalted pedestal is not for the playwright,
(Allow me to be a bit of a hypocrite)
All writing attempts to convey a motif,*
Let's not (please) indulge in a game of What-If.
*Was that a Garden Path Sentence there?
Twas merely an opinion, nothing more,
One understands why poetry here is a lure,
Prose might have captured the essence of it,
The idea just might be expressed, the dissatisfaction might vanish.
'Tis much too explosive sir; 'tis rich in both content and rhyme,
One needs to be elucidated, the other, perhaps, "broken down in time"?
One cannot know if writing attempts to convey a motif* or demonstrate a cause,
Writing could be out of compulsion, exasperation, or Just Because.
* All writing attempts to convey motifs? That is the only structural glitch I see there.
Adith kicks verbal ass... you're too good(and cute) at it
Jim Morrison, anyone? :)
Maybe you will want to get a facebook icon to your blog. Just marked down this site, although I must make this by hand. Simply my $.02 :)
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