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Poetry Magnum Opus

A Welcome Blindness


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I thought I left the moon behind,

but, in my mind, her image stayed:

silver, frayed in countless beams,

like dreams to fill my day, my night,

my inner sight—come night, come day—

a painful way of seeing you

through brightest dew...the salty kind.

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Flawless iambic tetrameter, Ike. I especially like how you varied the rhythm by employing the headless iamb in L3. I can also appreciate the perfect punctuation and how it, together with your choice of syntax and sentence construction, sets the pace, itself moving and corresponding with the content. The internal rhymes and interjection delight.

 

I find the poem unexpectedly melancholy. That (in combination with the meter) makes it very much to my taste. Very well done!

 

Tony

Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic

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Oh this poem is wonderful, Ike! A Blind Rhyme, one of the first techniques you challenged us to write at the Patrol... 10 years ago. But I don't remember this poem, it must be new. The form is reminiscent of some of the features of ancient Irish verse using aicill rhyme and dunadh.

 

The technical end of this is spot on but what is extraordinary is the imagery which transcends the frame of the poem. "the salty kind" I love it.

 

~~Tink

~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~

For permission to use this work you can write to Tinker1111@icloud.com

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I especially like how you varied the rhythm by employing the headless iamb in L3.

 

Before reading Tony's reply, I was thinking L3 is missing one syllable. :)

 

 

 

You all know what you're reading! I'd like to have a try sometime.

 

through brightest dew...the salty kind.

 

salty kind, tears. Is it? Why do I feel a "the" is missing before "brightest"?

 

A verse well handled.

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goldenlangur

Hi waxwing,

 

 

A good use of rhymes that echo and smooth the flow of the poem: behind/mind, stayed/frayed, beams/dreams, night/sight, way/day and you/dew.

 

Enjoyed the read.

 

Thank you.

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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