Ars Armatoria (wholly inappropriate title for this post; I’m just too lazy to make my own)


Untitled

Stay, my Apollo
And let me cast your figure

Not in clay
that captures not the precision of your smile

Nor in marble
that hardly approximates your fleet-footed gait

Not either in bronze
that resonates dully, unlike your lyre

But in text
that, like an imprint in a woodland path,

Captures some essense of the dream that did run before.

[Obviously, the concept is not new. I took it from Shakespeare’s Sonnet #23, “As an unperfect actor on the stage.” What am I–not lazy? Original? Never!

Oh: and analysis–Again, too lazy to do iambic pentameter, so I did “hippie free verse,” but in 5 verses with a final concluding line. I use assonance and consonance..a lot. The subject is possibly obvious; objective is to convey a “paternal” sort of love, but in a feminine way. Kind of like how Aeneas shouts after Venus, his mother, but in the opposite ways. And to play with English.

Oops, my bad: Evidently, I can’t keep my Olympian gods straight. I want the image of Apollo, but with the running-person aspect of Hermes.]


Next one:

 

Fear

To look out below
Pieces are falling, my friends!
Recreate in vain.

 

N.B. This was written 4/29/2008.

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