Take care young girl in what thou keepest real,
For what thou real profess, wilt thou become;
And be thy carriage drawn to thine ideal,
Wherefore should–pure for thee–white horses come?
This trap thou, from thy cold demesnes, create;
So frozen deep canst thou escape therefrom;
May not thy carriage, soul with ice conflate;
Through frost, could–lost to thee–white horses come?
How good or sweet, when meanness harsh thy word,
Bereave thine heart, and lovely spirit numb?
For passed thy carriage, thine entreat unheard;
And would–nor should to thee–white horses come.
Thy carriage, see to rancour’s cost, succumb.
And ne’er–not ere for thee–white horses come.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence: click here to read it all:
I like the imagery here. Nicely written!
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Thank you, this is a theme to which I have oft returned: One changes ones life by the act of creation, not description. Description can be interesting and beautiful, and even may it contain some creative element; however, at its heart, it is still description, and as such depends greatly upon ones perception and how it is attuned, educated, &c. Creation, which includes the creation of ones view of life, world, home, inside and outside, as well as specific forms of creation, artistic, scientific, &c. has the power to actually CAUSE us to observe, when we describe, such things as we have never before seen. Yet have such things been right before our eyes all the while.
This particular piece is a response to the term “Keepin’ it real,” and for the same reason. This phrase essentially is congruent to the older pop cultural phrase “Telling it like it is,” and this can only be done to the limits of ones understanding and perception. Both phrases are quite often punctuated with profanity, although not always, but even there, what one usually sees when either of these two phrases are applied is someone looking at life’s events in the worst possible way.
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I have long desired to write a sonnet with a repeated figure as well, and therefore this was the result of (possibly, if I remember correctly) my first attempt at this (in sonnet form in any case. Although, there may have been a hint of it here and there over the years.
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This one is lovely. It has a simplicity that is charming and a flow that is very pleasing.
Of course, you know that the subject is near and dear to my heart and I would love to see it required reading for young girls before they reach their thirteenth year. I can dream, can’t I?
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And I love your dreams!
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Thank goodness! Garrets and Attics can be charming but they’re drafty and I’d hate to find myself living in one. Eventually I’d have to set the manse afire!
insert chaffy humor emoticon here
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Thank you for understanding all of this. I think it might be mistaken–this series, I mean, for rancour, although of course it is quite the opposite. I cry a bit for every young girl–every young man as well–who does not realise she is the mistress of her own innocence.
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It bears repeating, my love.
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Perhaps I shall then repeat it all the more.
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Pingback: A Message for the admitting and the non admitting Alcoholics. « just telling it as it is
This has a fairytale quality I love.
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I found myself lucasing (a word for [sometimes compulsive, continual] editing after the fact) here in the wee hours and saw your comment. This statement of yours is very short but gets at the heart of the piece, as you will see if you have time to read a few of the other comments.
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I enjoyed reading the comments here (as I often do). My thoughts pivot around the notion of ‘reality’. The reality concocted by governments, media, and so on, pounds upon us daily and is unbelievably frightening to me. Thank goodness for the ability to create our own realities, and to communicate some of the joy, variety and strength of that creation and creative process to others.
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I neither read nor watch the news any longer, and for that very reason–among others. I now hear of “big” national events through the mention of others.
This often delays my finding out about the “big” stories for a day or so. I have found, these last few years, that this is the best way to learn of such things, as they have a way of shaking themselves out, so to speak, after a while.
Thanks for dropping by and
telling it like it is (or not : )
Keep it real! (or not : )
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Wow… A staggering write. It holds that power I so rarely see in most poetry. Gorgeous work full of emotion.
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I feel most gratified that you have seen this one. I have, I think, had a desire that you might read this sequence. Particularly, I think, this one.
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Really?
Why is that Poet?
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To be truthful, I am not entirely sure. Perhaps because it is of a subject we have both considered at great length. My feelings regarding this subject matter are really quite heartfelt; all the more, perhaps, because my genetic profile compels me to protect young girls. I cannot therefore–and for other more concious reasons–bear to see them unhappy. (It makes me perhaps a better grandfather than a father–though of course Mrs. Emeron would sternly disagree : )
And on another subject entirely, I like the current icon you have chosen. From a distance you (or is it your daughter again. the deuce, I say, with my sub-standard visual cortex! It is most embarrassing that I cannot discern such things as easily as can most people)… In any case, from a distance it looks colourful, and from close up, you look deeply thoughtful, yet also happy–content. I see little of the restlessness of which you so often make mention.
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…and. I will back track and read the sequence when I have time, and mind for it. These days are long this week…
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Yes, Poetess, I do understand.
Only if you desire it and would enjoy reading them. They will post tomorrow and the day after in any case. But as always, I feel most honoured when you do–all the more because I know how busy must be your life.
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Read silently or aloud, this is transcending. The ebb and flow – a mysterious sea of beauty. And this is why I say to leave Shakespeare’s sonnets as a low priority. I wish I could live long enough to see you hailed as a creative force and people poring over your work as they do Shakespeare.
As I myself no longer listen to local, national, or world news, the times appalling bits create monstrosities in my hearing, I am comforted to know I can come here to find grace in a graceless age.
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My my…. I am most humbled by all of this. Since I do not–and will not–move in literary circles, I am afraid few if any of us will live to see such a thing–whether or not it is deserved.
Please understand that because I do not participate in rings or groups nor indeed even know how to collaborate in any meaningful way, I must be very creative in the prompts that I use. Therefore something like the above is prompted from my own observations. Still Shakespeare’s sonnets are 154 prompts from which one may reflect and write ones own work. In the seven I have thus far completed, my take on his subject matter is very different as you may (or may not) have noticed.
Still, I also have my own work upon which to draw. For example… there exists a very long freeverse I composed when I was, I think, 19 years of age. It is long enough and sufficiently varied that it could serve as a prompt for perhaps 15 sonnets. I may undertake that one next, as it is of a very romantic subject which would move much toward the delight of Dear Mrs. Emeron; which of course is my ultimate goal in any of this. : )
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I move in no circles myself but I do find much pleasure in the company of squares :-) Prompts prompt prompts. Whatever you do to further the happiness of Mrs. Emeron ranks high with me. I am not discounting the Bard…..only saying, regarding your poems, Please sir. Might I have some more?
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With all that you have said today, my dear Kanzen, I enthusiastically agree. My beloved’s work is a pearl of great price and I feel we are blessed that it brings us into the company of such people as you. You join my dear Gentle Mac and his sweet wife in a very small circle of particular confidants to me. I cannot hold as many personalities in my mind as my loving poet does; but, you are one of my special ones. Thank you, Gentle KanzenSakura.
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My dear lady, I cannot express the feeling in my heart after reading your words. My tears flow and I smile.
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Thank you for putting a smile on my Dear Love’s face.
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Like you, it has become a mission to accomplish.
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It is much appreciated.
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No. I believe we are, all of us, squares.
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I believe we are all squares. Despite this overwhelming sadness that sometimes descends upon me, I shall endeavour to offer more.
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I sympathize with the sadness. Do what you can do and if it helps, then go forth. otherwise, don’t press yourself and be easy on yourself.
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Thank you. Experimenting with your recipes and reading your spirited accounts–all of this helps.
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Oh, oh!
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I shall revisit it sometime soon, I think.
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This is lovely.
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Thank you. I am pleased you enjoyed it.
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