Thursday, May 3, 2012

Night Thing



Night Thing 



I see that I’ve become a night thing now,
that even lust burns out, both song and vow.
When candles gutter down too many times,
when stuttering love has used up all her rhymes,
when darkness sucks out colors' hoarded breath;
then I the night thing learn the face of death.
I even put it on to try the fit;
so tight, so stiff, but I’ve grown used to it.
I take it off when daylight pales the sky
but find it needful under night’s ink eye.
Two dogs and I come haunt this vacant lawn
where two fires burned but one of them is gone.
The mouse cries shrill and then the barnowl hoots.
Age clicks the thirty eight before she shoots.




May 2012



Posted for   FormForAll   at dVerse Poets Pub


Samuel Peralta's Challenge: The Clarian Sonnet
The Clarian sonnet is named after 18th century English poet John Clare, and consists of seven rhymed couplets in iambic pentameter.




Image: Owl, by $holydevil on flick'r
I have cropped this photo which is shared under a Creative Commons Attribution Only License


34 comments:

  1. Dang! This would be good in any form. Love the dark visual, and as usual, you shot out the lights with the last line!

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  2. I like your rhyming couplets ....so distinctively dark like the face of death and night ink's eyes ~ Lovely work Hedge ~

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  3. bang...whew killer last line there hedge...great build up as well with the guttering candles, lust burning out, and the two fires, now down to one...really nicely done...

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  4. Wow- what an ending... this is great, Joy. I like the part about trying it on.

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  5. Fabulous, flawless meter. Bravo. It really does ease the reading! These are my favorite lines:

    "that even lust burns out, both song and vow.
    When candles gutter down too many times"

    "I take it off when daylight pales the sky
    but find it needful under night’s ink eye"

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  6. Great ending would linger on for sometime. You did that very well, Joy! Great write, enjoyed it!

    Hank

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  7. Full of atmosphere, and intense darkness, very well done. Love it! The picture too is fabulous.

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  8. Ha! I am unfortunately able to well understand this one even though I really know nothing about 38s and had to look up to see exactly what type of gun it was. (Knew that much.) I like the first octave especially--well, all of it, but I identify most with the earlier part I guess. It is very hard. Your poem expresses that. k.

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    1. Thanks, K. I know nothing much about guns either, but a metaphor is a metaphor, eh?

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  9. This is absolutely one of the most incredible Clarian sonnets I've read all night - or any night. Unfaltering in its meter, confident in its end-rhymes, each line another chamber filled with the ammunition of vivid images, revolving... until the resounding blast and recoil of that final line. A poem I wish I'd written. Brilliant!

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    1. Thanks, Sam, for the very high compliment. This was a tooth-gnasher, and is distilled down from about fifty lines of free verse.

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  10. oh wow...what an excellent job with the sonnet form and a fricking awesome closure...loved esp. when stuttering love has used up all her rhymes... what an image

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  11. Yes brilliant revelation in that last line. And you make all forms fit, with what seems like ease, which belies the craft and work involved. Excellent sonnet.

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    1. Thank you Ruth. It was like pulling teeth. Really enjoyed your latest--a nice twirl and flare all through it.

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  12. One of the transformations of age is that we don't need so much light to see around in the dark -- in fact, torches get in the way of seeing very far in the dark. Not that there isn't fire, just a low-degree kelvin. Owls know blue flame, so do the wise guys and gals who tend the deepest noctal hearths. This is a sort of bookend to Ruth's latest, "Bonfirebird." I'm somewhere, always, in-between. Master-class sonneteering, Hedge; congrats on taming that free-verse dragon and teaching it to dance thus. - Brendan

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    1. Thanks, B. I still have hopes for the free verse--everything morphs around in poetry, and almost every line is recycled--or we try anyway.And AFA being in between fiery rebirth and eternal darkness, you've staked out profoundly the no man's land of the ever-changing ocean, full of both life and death-- your muse is utterly at home in her native salt, where she sings and dances of all things equally gracefully.

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  13. An exceptional piece of writing .... every line and syllable doing its job

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  14. This is really top drawer, a tremendous write, full of feeling and atmosphere and rhythmically fine. For me it ticks all the boxes that matter. Great image, too!

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  15. This is the best sonnet in blogland that I have read, period.

    You have re-inforced my faith in metric form and poetry (as if it had ever faltered!)

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  16. I certainly could not pass up a sonnet from your pen, not when it has owls in it.

    I love the scene you set of one who struggles to sleep in the darkest hours of night, and that last line is amazingly powerful, all the more so for being unexpected.

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  17. I knew i was gonna love this from the title 'Night Thing' Love it. this had some venom...something 'other worldy'- maybe a metaphor for not treading the same path as others, not following, but rather hunting, dangerously, until the trigger is pulled. Thats how i'd wanna live. Adn yes! these are TOUGH AS NAILS...you destroyed it though...seriously good

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    1. Thanks Stu--this is like my fifth one, and every time it gets maybe one atom's breadth easier--but not much. Glad you picked up on those strains in the piece. Thanks for reading.

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  18. Fantastic sonnet, perfect form and rhyme. And what a great story line. I truly enjoyed reading this poem.

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  19. Love this! Especially:
    "when stuttering love has used up all her rhymes"
    and that stunning last line. Wonderful.
    de
    whimsygizmo.wordpress.com

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  20. Oh, this is really good Hedge. I just love the atmosphere you created here. Great use of the form, really got the most out of it. Thanks

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  21. FANTASTIC (Did you hear that echo?) Not sure what I can add to what has already been said...the form is amazing, and my dark imagination ran to so many places with this. The two fires...the crack of age...somber and sad in my mind...until I read it again, then another image knocks me upside the head!

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  22. BRILLIANT writing, Hedge. "Two dogs and I come haunt this vacant lawn, where two fires burned but one of them is gone." I spent today with an elderly widow and your poem absolutely NAILS its subject.

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  23. Well this just blows me away. You've got such a grasp of the form that it comes across so organically and whole, the form just disappears. Lovely and very wonderful in form and content. The narrative iself is so creative that it pulls me into its alternate universe.

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  24. This is AMAZING. I read it out loud a few times to myself and the fourth line is my fav., but the entire piece is exceptional.

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  25. Superb! Loved reading your words! Thanks for such a great visceral image~

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  26. Without the dark we would have to create our own caves, I fear.
    And thank god for the daylight.

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  27. The whole thing is very darkly atmospheric, but it is the last four lines that blew me away, if you'll pardon the phrase. Indeed, we hear that hammer click back well before the bullet hits the bone. It even stops being very scary, but it never stops being sad.

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  28. That last line is just stellar. As is the first. And, hell, the ones in between! Wow.

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'Poetry is an echo asking a shadow to dance' ~Carl Sandburg