Divorce Bard's Blog

...Iambic pentameter is for the ear. Read it out loud.

Divorce Bard

Divorce Bard
Location
pretty how town, USA
Birthday
February 13
Bio
While the ashes of marriage #2 were cooling, I began a journal here in verse, to keep myself out of trouble. So far so good, and one day at a time. I took a hiatus this past January, and I missed it terribly. Writing daily had changed the way I think - not my opinions, but the process of thinking itself. So here I am back again, and hungry. I began with three rules: (1) Iambic pentameter, (2) Perfect rhyme, and (3) It had to be true (no hyperbole). I hereby amend rule number 3: If I'm writing about myself, yes, it has to be true. But it doesn't, if I want to tell a story.

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NOVEMBER 18, 2010 12:24AM

Late Autumn. Wednesday Nov 17, 2010

Rate: 13 Flag

A maple.  Japanese.  The storm last night
Tore nearly ev'ry leaf away.  The fall,
Aggressive and capricious reds, that light
Itself seems lesser than -- stop here.  This all,
This everything, this scatter underneath
The nakedness, grants nothing likened to.
There is no metaphor; no blood, no wreath,
No death.  And no unique, or single hue,
But thousands.  Turning, to and from the sun,
And wetness, shimmered light on rain, degrees
Of blaze or softness overwhelmed by none,
No master, but the whimsy of a breeze
    That later may take on a doleful sound,
    To run this beauty carelessly aground.

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Stunning sonnet, Bard. Your language flows so naturally. What a gift!

"...The fall,
Aggressive and capricious reds, that light
Itself seems lesser than -- stop here. This all,
This everything, this scatter underneath
The nakedness, grants nothing likened to."

Just absolutely breathtaking. Very well done.
so fine and lovely. I'd tried to push words together about our shredded autumn color (reds died so young via monsoonish bursts) now all thats left is gold...
this is perfect...stunningly so. r
Perhaps now my favorite. Please put all of these in a book.
"degrees
Of blaze or softness overwhelmed by none,
No master, but the whimsy of a breeze"

Wonderful! You capture both the beauty and sorrow of autumn.
Am so caught by the beauty of this piece, I may need to go away and simply be with it awhile. Beauty, joy, moments, sadness, all.
thousands. Turning, to and from the sun~
I love how you do this thing you do.
There has been a shift in tone in your work, and your style has changed to wrap around it, it's quite remarkable. And beautiful work too. I agree with Scupper, I hope you print these all and put them in a book for your children and grandchildren. And yourself. And a few others.
A few days ago I was looking at a beautiful Japanese maple glowing in the sun, taking in its beauty. Like this poem.
"And no unique, or single hue,
But thousands. Turning, to and from the sun,"
Stunning, remarkable, a gift--other commenters have said it, and I agree.
"Aggressive and capricious reds"
Love it Bard. Love them all.
Late Autumn. And a storm. How often do we pause to notice this at all.
"The whimsy of a breeze" blows good things my way. Thanks.
Every adjective that has come to mind are all ready in the comments! I can't think of another to use so I echo them all. Thank you!! Japanese Maples are my favorite. A friend of mine's father had an absolutely vast and wooded garden. When he died suddenly, his wife and his children had a Japanese Maple planted on his grave.
Bard, you write a sonnet like I wish I could write.

Stunningly beautiful! Thank you.
Thank you all for being so patient, and for dropping by while I'm busy in the kitchen. I will never catch up. Nuts.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.