Today, we’d like to challenge you to write your own sad poem, but one that, like Teicher’s, achieves sadness through simplicity. Playing with the sonnet form may help you – its very compactness can compel you to be straightforward, using plain, small words.
I wanted to attempt a sonnet, but after a 5-hour orchestra and choir rehearsal, the brain wasn't being cooperative so what came out was this. Not quite what I wanted, and doesn't exactly fit compact, but it'll have to do til I regrow some brain cells after tonight.
STICKS STONES BONES
sticks
stones
bones
words brittle as dry sticks
carved onto stones we’ve
hurled at each other
until bones
crack
splinter
under the assault
stay
my mouth opens
only darkness rushes out
stay stay stay
empty word balloons
you turn
you walk away
(sticks
stones
bones)
setting the great
unblinking
unwinking
eye of a moon
between us
like a duenna
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3 comments:
I like the rhythm and repetition. I can't write at all at night when I'm tired.
We both had the moon--though mine hums. :)
You made me look up duenna :) I like looking up unknown words!
I wish I had words to describe what I love about these lines:
words brittle as dry sticks
carved onto stones we’ve
hurled at each other
I don't. But I realise now that I stare at them, searching for words, that the perfectly describe some of the arguments I've had in me life. Still, I love their poetic quality first. The recognition only came later.
I always like poetry that takes common phrases and makes them new. The starkness of this is just right. Beautiful.
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