suicide hymn for the merry ploughboy
by AuldMiseryGuts (Member) - published: November 9, 2007
Word Count: 135 Word Bytes: 1042 Viewed: 418 times
Category - Lyrics
© Copyright by AuldMiseryGuts

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No one would love him
For a second time
His secrets had looked
To take root or wing

He thought that he might
Either flower or fly
Perhaps in some way
They were the same thing

At the close of day
Where the sun rites cede
He’d unite with seasons’
Circling

Winter would keep him
For winter was kind
Only revealing
His triumph in spring

They’d find him discarnate
Discarded in stones
His name rewhispered
By the loosening gale

Cast himself aside
Made runes of his bones
His fingers were ploughshares
Raking the shale

Once, he had loved
But never again
The sea left him celibate
Sanguine and ungrieved

A simple soul broken
No more to mend
Between all that he knew
And all he believed

Hope’s last gasp
A breath never breathed.

------
The human race, the only race I know where everybody loses.

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Comments

The following comments are for "suicide hymn for the merry ploughboy"
by AuldMiseryGuts

The Beautiful Boys Of The World...

First off subject, because I just found you myspace.com via you link here on your bio:

...Shannon, you are one of them, and your goth period was perfectly beautiful too, I have always been a goth soul myself without even knowing it, long story...beautiful pics of you. Just beautiful. You are not hideous as you say, not in the least. You look much younger than I had imagined though, I think you were born when I was maybe 17 or so? You look to be my oldest daughter (Vanessa) age?

NOW TO THIS POEM:

And, this poem, is beautiful, it reminds me of the feelings and thoughts I had when I viewed the cadaver in my college biology class many years ago...I could not get past the feeling that this once was a human with a soul, a mother who loved him (hopefully), a soul who had once been a thinking being...now he was there a slab for science to poke and prod and for us college dweeb nerds to get an extra credit for having the nerve to take the "cadaver project" on. Makes me think of all the homeless on the streets of the USA too, and how they are looked upon as just throw away nothing people by some.

"Once, he had loved
But never again
The sea left him celibate
Sanguine and ungrieved

A simple soul broken
No more to mend
Between all that he knew
And all he believed

Hope’s last gasp
A breath never breathed."

These last stanza's were awesome! How sad suicide, and how touching and loving commentary you have made of this person.

Blessings:-)

( Posted by: TheRealKarmaTseringLhamo [Member] On: November 10, 2007 )

Lyrics...
Lyrics...poetry...really the same, only now that noticed it is lyrics category, I can view this and hear it from a new perspective which actually takes it deeper than before and it is exquisitely sad. Thank you for sharing this.

Blessings;-)

( Posted by: TheRealKarmaTseringLhamo [Member] On: November 10, 2007 )

Suicide?
Shannon,

I really like the verses, as always your command of description passages, but not over the top, keeps the reader engaged.

On this piece, though, I think the title is too heavy for it. At first, reading just the title on the index page, I really didn't feel that I wanted to read anything "suicide" , but knowing your grace with the written word I was certain it would be a worthy read and it is.

I suppose in this case the title reveals something important about the verses -- the meaning is well formed when the title is read as part of the poem (shouldn't that always be the case?). I think it is the word "suicide" followed by "hymn" that seems awkward to me.

But, still really great imagery and vivid language.

thanks

BW

( Posted by: BWOz [Member] On: November 11, 2007 )

suicide hymn
What an awesome writer you are Shannon. It is like something I would have read in my English Lit class. In the textbook I mean. Robert.

( Posted by: robnjop [Member] On: November 12, 2007 )

a thousand thank yous
Lena, thank you very kindly, but I am certainly no looker... the goth thing helped with that, although I'm told the wall of hair made me look like Stig of the dump ;)... you have the feel of the poem exactly... a fair few of my peers died by their own hand, kids I knew from school, not well, but from around... the subject of this poem went out walking in the hills one night and never came home... they didn't find his body until spring thaw... so sad...

BW, I guess I sort of intended it to sit uncomfortably, although I take your point in that it's not the nicest sounding phrase, lyrically speaking... I'm only just coming back to song writing again after quite an absence, so it's all a bit trial and error at the moment, mostly more error than trial... thank you for your kind and thoughtful assessment, much appreciated...

Robert, you are too kind. I wish the publishing world shared your charitable opinion of my stuff... ah, well

the best to all of you.

( Posted by: AuldMiseryGuts [Member] On: November 16, 2007 )

Publisher's Opinion? You have to submit your work first....
Well, Shannon, have you even given the publishing world a chance to accept or decline? Poetry is a hard sell, there is no profit in it for publishers these days, but your stories, such as Nana, combined and or/ intertwined with your poetry, now that would SELL--

You need to submit. Then submit again, then again, then again. A thousand times if necessary. It is up to you, and I am pretty certain you will find a taker.

( Posted by: TheRealKarmaTseringLhamo [Member] On: November 16, 2007 )

okay, you caught me
I submitted a few things some while back, nowhere major, just small press publications and poetry magazines... the responses, which can best be described as scathing, ranged from the merely disillusioning to the down right eviscerating in terms of their power to persuade me I should never send anything anywhere ever again, ever…

I’m not hopeless naļve [well, maybe a bit ;)], and I know people receive hundreds of thousands of rejection letters before being published… but I guess they’re just made of sterner stuff… I have a tendency to absorb negative criticism like a sponge, and I give up way too easily… but hey, maybe growing a backbone could be my new year’s resolution…? ;)

( Posted by: AuldMiseryGuts [Member] On: November 16, 2007 )

Huh?
Have you submitted any of your stories? Perhaps again, I say, the Nana series? Shannon, I have great faith in your talent, and I know I am not a total idiot when it comes to recognizing talent and work that is worth being published. You need a manager or assistant (at the very least) to do all the foot work for you I think. You just need to not be bothered with the practical details, and just stick to your writing instead. Didn't you get a volunteer from Chinadoll to do the footwork submitting for you? Hey, why not? I'm sure any number of your friends and fans feel the same way, for I know I would gladly do the submitting for you. Write some more stories. Intertwine them with some poetry within the story. You style is quite unique and I think that you will get some bites. I am a much better cheerleader and promoter than I am a writer...and that is why I paint. Keep my babies to myself. Very sensitive as to what someone has to say about them. I get it. I understand the feeling and how that translates into how you feel about your writing'-)

( Posted by: TheRealKarmaTseringLhamo [Member] On: November 16, 2007 )

just words?
Shannon

When words transcend the poetry and float at the level of feelings far above thought, who gives a damn what commercial publishers think.

I wish I had your gift at times, and not only when writing....

Ivor

( Posted by: ivordavies [Member] On: November 16, 2007 )

submission
Lena, I think Chinadoll was only joking… I assume so at any rate… I think I’d feel a bit weird about letting someone else do all the work, I’d feel like I was taking advantage… ‘sides which, who am I that I’m so above and beyond all that practical stuff? certainly no one so special I get to abdicate responsibility from the mundane bits all other writers everywhere have to deal with… I’d only feel guilty… mad, I know, but I would… I do appreciate the cheerleading, and the confidence so many folks here have shown in my ability… I just reckon I have to grow a pair and deal with the hard slog myself, it doesn’t seem fair otherwise, you know? … I know you get how it is, the over-protective hyper-sensitive way you feel about what you create… I just need to develop a thicker skin is all… know of any boot camps for writers? ;)

Ivor, thank you very kindly. I’m glad you find feeling here, that’s the most a writer can ask for… you’ve gotta be careful what you wish for though. take care.

( Posted by: AuldMiseryGuts [Member] On: November 17, 2007 )

Shannon's hymn
Haven't been feeling well lately so I haven't commented because my head was just not in the right place to even comprehend the silliest poems. Silly, this is not. It moves with a will all its own toward an oblivion that is not as scary as one might think.

Death is beautiful. Your poem/lyric is gorgeous. I envision this a spiritual death - not a physical one.

You have no reason to envy me, my friend. As writers who inhabit our own individual universes, we tend to think everyone else is in on the game. But there is no game to be in on. We are here to learn from each other and what I have learned from you is...listen when you read.

I can almost hear your voice - accent and all - and I like what I hear.

Hope that makes sense. I think you are right in telling me I am trying to figure things out in my recent posts. Or maybe I am just on a contact high from Lena's 'shrooms!

Ah, the colors. The colors...

( Posted by: desvelado [Member] On: November 18, 2007 )

oblivion
Francisco, indeed, oblivion isn't so frightening, 'specially when you consider the alternatives... any idiot can die, living is much harder...

thank you for stopping by here. hope both you and your mother are on the mend soon. take care.

( Posted by: AuldMiseryGuts [Member] On: November 19, 2007 )

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