That Princely Tide

Inspired by Pat Conroy's book of similar title, which I have finally undertaken, twenty years too late, to read...

Southernness  is the beckoning moon ,
   And whithersoever we would go 'pon the Earth
   Her subtly sinister sibilance inhabits our mirth,
Within her delusional, denial-sickened womb.

 

Within her unwelcoming embrace,
   Immersing our souls in decaying afterbirth
   Depriving all but the stalwart of pride or worth,
Or of the simple will to wipe our face.

 

And so, she laughs (though she would weep)
   Considering sullied oats her craft has sown;

 

The secrets of her sickness we must keep,
   That princely tide that all of us have known,

 

And that crop of bitterness I now reap--
   I, from whom love and laughter have fin'ly flown!

 

Mark Teague

September 30, 2010

Reviews

[Jack...]

Yes indeed, that is definitely what you have written and I do stand corrected. Very nice.

[bob, small b. aka invs]

here's something you don't see very often. a truly finely crafted poem. reminds me of the arts and crafts movement in design, where all the joints, hinges, and inner workings became part of the design, proudly displayed. here you're pulling out all the stops in displaying rhyme, pattern, alliteration and language. i wouldn't even attempt something like this. great job.

[Mark]

Mighty high praise from a writer whose work I so admire! Thank you Bob, most sincerely. See note at Markymark, two below, for explanation as to the form.

[emmajoy]

I had to read this over until I understood the meter, or rather, accepted it .. between start and finish I heard a touch of Spenser, enjoyed your ready use of language, ' .. And so she laughs (though she would weep) ~ Considering sullied oats her craft has sown; '

As ever and always you create pictures in the reader's mind, in this instance rather bleak ones ..

[Markymark]

I have not read this one before. I was expecting the rhyme scheme to continue with the middle verses ending in irth, and a four line stanza, but this works fine as it is. Nothing seems forced, and it flows (message and word flow) off the page and into our minds.

Great Job Mark!

Mark

[Mark]

Mark, I was shooting for a sonnet here--as well you know, my favorite form--but didn't realize until I'd finished that instead of abba, abba, it ran abba, cddc. So it became the sonnetine, or sonnetesque...pretty, despite my fudging of the Rules!

[Nobody.]

I could hear B.B. King singing The Thrill is Gone as I read. The fluid movement and word choice is lovely, and the images stick in and hold like barbed hooks. Beautifully crafted expression of pain.
Cheers!
R.G.

[An owl on the moon]

You create such a visually stunning, rich feel to this one. The last lines just were overwhelming with the emotion of experience.. the pain of existence... Powerful, Mark.

[Aimee Mahathy]

Wow, this is wonderful! I loved the form of it, it reminded me of older poets. And a very in-depth mental wandring of the moon. Great job!

[SPINNING ON that dizzy ..]

This one I read, then read again standing and speaking it out loud..... so elegant words....marvelous choices and smoothly placed together. well done!

[Tate Morgan]

Interesting differences in us here you use much larger uncommon phrsing here than I DOI But the rythme is good I like the style but dont recognise it Perhaps it is your own Just as I dont use periods or punctuation

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

The veil of sorrow can hide so many secrets; and once rent, it reveals the undeniable ugliness that resides within mankind. Here, the Southern myth is an illusion torn to shreds - a mask removed to reveal the darkness within.

Great job.

Linda Marie