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"God and nature do not work together in vain”
#1
I was told that this one I had posted before was not read by anyone because of the title, so I'm posting the English translation of the title as the Subject.  Let's see what happens...



Deus et natua non faciunt frusta
(God and nature do not work together in vain)

Yahweh, Loki--are you one?
Or are The Gods just having their fun?
Sorry, Chance; this is too big for you--
It was obviously planned by someone who knew
Exactly where to slice and stab and tear
To cause me pain and leave me bare.

But such sadistic cruelty's beyond divine.
And made with care,
A custom gift that is only mine!

It must be one grand joke.
Why am I not laughing?



Copyright © 2009 Sadstguy
All Rights Reserved and all that.



The meter is horribly odd, I know. 

Suggestions to improve the work?

Thanks!

--S
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#2
I love the theme, the thoughts behind it and the flow of the thoughts.  There feels like there is something off about the ... and here i don't know my terms... tempo... the flow of the words.  Unfortunately I am not a poet and I would probably make a mess of the piece if  tried to offer suggestions. 


However I will say that the piece reminds me of an episode of House (imagine that)...

    House: "... I choose to believe that the white light people sometimes see, visions, this patient saw: they're all just chemical reactions that take place when the brain shuts down."
    Foreman: "You choose to believe that?"
    House: "There's no conclusive science. My choice has no practical relevance to my life, I choose the outcome I find more comforting."
    Cameron: "You find it more comforting to believe that this is it?"
    House: "I find it more comforting to believe that this isn't simply a test."
A wasted life! This sad refrain Comes surging through my ears again; ~Illawarra Mercury, April 8, 1884~
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#3
(05-15-2009, 10:27 PM)Sadstguy link Wrote: The meter is horribly odd, I know. 

Suggestions to improve the work?

I'm an old school guy, and I do like the challenge of writing verse on a specific meter. Free verse is pretty much the name of the game today, but I still enjoy reading an old-fashioned ode or ballad stanza or iambic pentameter sonnet, so I would have tried to write it on such a meter with a rhyming scheme. Perhaps a Keatsian ode form would have been a good format for your verse. Just my 2c.
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#4
(05-16-2009, 01:40 AM)MindCubicle link Wrote: I love the theme, the thoughts behind it and the flow of the thoughts.  There feels like there is something off about the ... and here i don't know my terms... tempo... the flow of the words.  Unfortunately I am not a poet and I would probably make a mess of the piece if  tried to offer suggestions. 


However I will say that the piece reminds me of an episode of House (imagine that)...

     House: \"... I choose to believe that the white light people sometimes see, visions, this patient saw: they're all just chemical reactions that take place when the brain shuts down.\"
     Foreman: \"You choose to believe that?\"
     House: \"There's no conclusive science. My choice has no practical relevance to my life, I choose the outcome I find more comforting.\"
     Cameron: \"You find it more comforting to believe that this is it?\"
     House: \"I find it more comforting to believe that this isn't simply a test.\"

Thanks!  I don't know what I was originally thinking when I jotted this down, as I can't imagine I would make such a mess of the meter and tempo, but it seems that I did.  In fact, I was so confused when I reposted this, that I thought, maybe it's just now that I'm not getting it.  Or heck, maybe I grabbed notes and posted them by mistake.

And that is why I ask for input.  I have absolutely no ability to self-critique my work.  I once discarded a poem that I pulled from the trash to share when nobody had anything and there was a lull.  It was a hit, it later won an award, and a critic told me it was his favorite he'd read in years.  >sigh<


I LOVE the House dialogue.  Absolutely wonderful.

Thanks again, Mind!

--S
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#5
Hey, I like it..... I don't really know how poetry works, but I do know what I like..... Thanks for sharing it....

Peace &  :ht:,
Jenni
The Eleventh Doctor: Nobody important? Blimey, that's amazing. You know that in nine hundred years of time and space and I've never met anybody who wasn't important before.
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#6
(05-16-2009, 08:18 AM)adonais link Wrote: I'm an old school guy, and I do like the challenge of writing verse on a specific meter. Free verse is pretty much the name of the game today, but I still enjoy reading an old-fashioned ode or ballad stanza or iambic pentameter sonnet, so I would have tried to write it on such a meter with a rhyming scheme. Perhaps a Keatsian ode form would have been a good format for your verse. Just my 2c.

I'm an old-school guy, too...and in fact, much of the stuff that's popular today isn't even true free verse!  I seem most effective with Italian sonnets, as long as you don't mind occasional enjambment.  But unfortunately, much of my work has been published previously, such that my pseudanonymity would be compromised by putting it here...and I can't seem to write a new sonnet if my life depended on it! (WAIT!  Maybe that's the reason!  What if my DEATH depended on it!  Big Grin )

I must admit, however, that as old-school as I am, I can't stick with Robert Browning...EBB is more my style, and, yes, I love Sonnets from The Portuguese.  I hope you don't think me less manly.  Tongue  Oh, and I love Taylor Mali, also.  (appropriate ones: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mnOrrknTxbI or http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SCNIBV87wV4 )

I'm going to look into reworking into a Keatsian ode.  Thanks for that suggestion.  I greatly appreciate it!

--S
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#7
(05-16-2009, 09:08 AM)Jenni link Wrote: Hey, I like it..... I don't really know how poetry works, but I do know what I like..... Thanks for sharing it....

Peace &  :ht:,
Jenni

Thanks, Jenni!  Smile  I am glad you like it!

--S
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#8
(05-16-2009, 08:18 AM)adonais link Wrote: Perhaps a Keatsian ode form would have been a good format for your verse. Just my 2c.

Wow!  Once you got me thinking along the lines of Keats, I can't help but think of his Ode on Melancholy and its call against suicide, and then Ode on A Grecian Urn and Ode on Psyche, and I get melancholic.  :-\  You have really sparked some thought here...thanks again!


--S
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#9
(05-16-2009, 09:21 AM)Sadstguy link Wrote: I'm an old-school guy, too...and in fact, much of the stuff that's popular today isn't even true free verse!  I seem most effective with Italian sonnets, as long as you don't mind occasional enjambment.  But unfortunately, much of my work has been published previously, such that my pseudanonymity would be compromised by putting it here...and I can't seem to write a new sonnet if my life depended on it! (WAIT!  Maybe that's the reason!  What if my DEATH depended on it!   Big Grin )

Lo, we have sonneteer here! Would love to read your italian sonnets, I never managed to write one. I have written a couple of Shakespearean ones, but they are so bad I would be embarrassed to post them here. It's really hard to write on a definite form without ending up with something that reads like a cheesy limerick Big Grin

That makes me curious...I wonder where you might have posted your poetry before..
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#10
Oh dear, now you triggered me too, I started looking over my old poems... Just for your amusement, here's a verse that I attempted to write on the Keatsian ode form. It's trite and fake old-English, but what choice have we but to follow the whispers of our muse..
:hd:

Ode to Keats

A dying candle through the Claret haze,
Beyond its time and age forever shines
Into our hearts; relived Achaean grace,
And beauty in the truth of muséd rhymes.
To whispers flowing down from Arcady,
Which all the secrets of thy song embower,
Fit with centuries we listen still
In hope, to touch that Muse of poesy;
Perchance, to relish in that faery power,
And seize upon the echoes of thy quill.

A poet’s soul had been divinely tilled,
But were by this ungodly world denied
It’s lease; the cup of life had passed, and spilled.
From here, but death was fit to be his bride:
“Let Charon sound his horn! Consumèd now,
I long to travel yonder rivulet.”
For lines unwrit, his dying hand atoned,
As ‘round he turned to make an awkward bow
From Lethe’s shore, of worldly woes disowned;
And drift among the stars that never set.

But ever will thy spirit highly roam
Where ne’er a woe did cloud the orbèd sun
Nor dim the moon; for thou hast made thine home
Among the fields of fair Elysium.
And when upon thy testament we dwell,
Across the ages past, a darkling sings
A ditty from beyond those high domains,
In warbled memory of une dame belle.
The principle of beauty in all things,
Your everlasting gift to us remains.
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