#pentameter

one of the criticisms i got was "the timeline didnt make sense" theres seasons... but what season is it? is it in reverse? im confused"

"i feel like this is filler"

I didn't have the same chances that others had to a happy life. My happiness is a black knife. And smiles. Secretive, estranged smiles in a crowd. I was always like this.

Wealth? Just a story. Make what you like or suffer the loss. Trust is minimal in weapons of war. Even moreso for standards of life.

Now that I found a home, a place to call my own, I am starting to see a new future. A path where the hate I face is not evident. Maybe a place where violence is so thin that the people find limitless joys in discovering new ways to feel. A circle that envelopes life and death without pain.

I have seen the worst. I have no other faith. Beauty is absolute only in permanence of the dark'nd. Hopes and dreams.

*So far from home, I take his hand, unsure,

A dance so new, his touch, it feels so pure.

Unsteady feet, breathless, lost in the night,

But in his arms, there's solace, fleeting light.

And I whisper, Master.

Time slips away, like ashes in the breeze,

His gaze a lash, that brings me to my knees.

I long to waltz, our dance shared in the dark,

The lonely pain that lingers leaves a mark.

He speaks my fate, the orders I had dread,

To dance in shade, where all hope has been bled.

The night draws near, it brings a sorrow song,

To die for love —

would that truly be wrong?

So far from home, I take his hand, unsure,

A dance so new, his touch, it feels so pure.

Unsteady feet, breathless, lost in the night,

But in his arms, there's solace, fleeting light.

And I whisper, Death.*

(Hey, love your blog! Here is a Poem I wrote for my Curse of Strahd game lol)

scansion:

◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – So far / from home, / I take / his hand, / unsure, ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – A dance / so new, / his touch, / it feels / so pure. ◡ – / ◡ – / – ◡ / – ◡ / ◡ – Unstea/dy feet, / breathless, / lost in / the night, ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – But in / his arms, / there's so/lace, flee/ting light. ◡ ◡ – ◡ – ◡ And I whisper, Master.

metrical form: Iambic pentameter. There are some trochaic substitutions, as in line 3. The lines "And I whisper, Master" and "And I whisper, Death" fall outside of this structure.

you’ve been drinking. every wicked word you’ve

ever said goes sliding out the door like

so much sideways gravel. the moment that

I can't really think of any (followers, anything to recommend?) but it definitely wouldn't need to be in 5/4. Poetry kind of naturally has a pause between lines, which could (and, I think, should!) fill one or more musical beats if you were preserving the meter of the words in such a way that each foot is a musical beat.

(I don't know how much you'll get out of this if you're not a classics nerd, but some of Tyrtarion's musical settings of Latin elegy and epic demonstrate really well how the line break and optionally the caesura can be its own beat.)


Hidden oubliette of my sullen heart.


Prayers no longer resonate here; this

Has become my dark harbor of grudges,

Where silence festers — an unclean lesion,


Then poisons my heart; I am abandoned.


Loneliness destroys my soul; resentment


Nurtures the demon that supplanted it.

If ever there were evil in the world


It springs from here, the empty human heart.


Hell exists in those whom isolation


Destroyed: the rejects, the people like me.

window in my room I watched as the sky

passed through hues of purple as night fell.

My view of the west is nonexistent;

I haven’t seen a sunset in four years,

or a dawn, either. I am a child of

the prairie, I am accustomed to views

of the horizon in all directions.

Big skies, big spaces. Not four walls and a

single small window to view the whole world.

I think I’d go mad, if not for my cat.