posted
I've written a beast of a narrative poem. It's a little over seven pages long. It's my personal tribute to two of my favorite poets, Tolkien and Shakespeare—Tolkien because I used the rhyme scheme he used for Bilbo's poem about Aragorn in FotR (Council of Elrond, if you want to check), and Shakespeare because it's a fantasy Romeo and Juliet of sorts. I took great pains to make the rhyme and meter as close to perfect as I know how to make them, though there are still a few errors.
Thing is, nobody publishes this sort of thing anymore, at least that I can find. In fact, the only person who EVER published this sort of thing (that I know of) is JRR himself. I'm okay with that. I submitted it two places that I thought might publish it, just for fun, and found out that they won't. Frankly, I wouldn't make much money on the thing even if I did publish it. At the same time, it's a shame to let it sit in my little lonely My Documents folder without ever being read.
And I thought, I wonder if any Jatraqueros would like to read it? I don't need critique, but if you want to give it, feel free. I'm just wondering if I should post it here, or if any of you have good reasons why I shouldn't.
posted
Are you kidding? If someone doesn't want to read it, they don't have to click on the thread. Please post it.
I'll make you a deal. If you post your narrative poetry, I'll dredge up my non-fiction, "I should send this to a women's magazine and see if they'll publish it" couple thousand words.
No critique... I like it. You didn't write it for anyone else? Sounds good to me.
The apex of Mount Gaedruk holds A house of trolls and one of men.
They kept inside through winter’s gales, But when the pale spring came again, Each house sent out a single prince To gather hints of dealings down Where wars continued through the year, An age-old fear upon the town.
When princes, troll and man, descended, Battles ended for a day. The soldiers feigned that they forgot They’d ever fought, and hid the grey Of countenance and wicked eyes And battle cries they knew so well. They could not let them ever know They cursed them so, their generals.
But one clear evening in the spring, A daring thing was done by one Whose wife and daughters had been killed.
Their blood was spilled by his own son— The women had refused to fight, So late at night he drew his sword. The act was not of hate but fear That spies might hear and tell their lord.
The man, that night, had woken to A different view of Gaedruk’s kings. He saw at last what he’d become: Both deaf and dumb to evil things.
But, hearing now, he made a vow To never bow before the throne Until a noble king was found And Gaedruk crowned with good alone.
He left the day before the feast To kill the beasts who made the war. He found the man-prince guarded well, But with a yell, he aimed before He could be slain. His arrow flew Both quick and true; the prince fell back. Four arrows flew, too late to save Their prince; the brave man’s view went black.
The man was hung up in a tree For all to see what happened to The ones who dared oppose the kings, And evil things were left to do What they desired with him.
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posted
You know the guy that writes the Redwall books Brian Jacques, often incorporates his own sort of epic poems in them. They are the only thing I can think of remotely in the same ballpark even though the poems are normally for some sort of riddle puzzle. I don't think their meter and rhyme is nearly as good as Tolkein though.
I think the line: "Battles ended for a day" needs another beat or two. On the other hand, terminating that line a beat early enhances the feeling of a cease fire.
So the soldiers hate their generals for stopping the fight for a day, and they want to get back to their fighting. Are the two princes who came down from the mountain the generals?
So they stop fighting to observe the Spring feast? Do troll and man feast together? What is the troll-prince doing while the man-prince is being shot through?
Can't wait for the next installment.
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posted
I think I was thinking along the same lines as AJ. You'll need to write a novel and include it to get it publised. Posts: 3956 | Registered: Jun 2001
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Patience, guys! I've got it on my puter at home, and I'm at work right now. I'm glad you like it, though. Posts: 1903 | Registered: Sep 2003
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quote:So the soldiers hate their generals for stopping the fight for a day, and they want to get back to their fighting. Are the two princes who came down from the mountain the generals?
Yes, the princes are also the generals, as becomes clear later in the poem. Your first statement is interesting; I had intended to say that the people hated their generals for making them fight, but your interpretation works better later. Hm.
quote:So they stop fighting to observe the Spring feast? Do troll and man feast together?
Yes, for one day. And no, definitely they do not feast together.
quote:What is the troll-prince doing while the man-prince is being shot through?
He's probably coming down the mountain too, just a little ways off.
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Because The man-prince was the only son, The princess took his sword in hand And claimed command of all he’d won. Her name was Drisde: fearless, strong, More fight than song, more bite than belle, She traveled proudly, as if she’d Been there to lead when Bruegnot fell.
She’d never ventured past the wall That circled all that her world was, But womanhood and brilliance Caused men at once to fight her cause.
The first night, as she traveled down, A horn was sounded in alarm. Mist hid the stars and moon from sight, And in the night a hideous swarm Of trolls attacked the camp. The horn Was late to warn the princess, so She clad herself in finery, Hoping they’d see and let her go (The law decreed that Gaedruk stood, For royal blood, a neutral ground).
But this war had, as most wars will, Turned hearts to killing. Being gowned In royal green made her a prize Those greedy eyes would see and crave.
The princess learned this much too late, But this time fate stepped in to save Her from a death most hideous, Insidious, and inhumane.
Part III
A noble man appeared just then— Trolls cowered when he saw the slain As if they’d pay for every loss.
He stepped across the battlefield. He had in hand a shining sword, And stepped toward where Drisde kneeled.
He took her gently by the hand, Helped her to stand, and spoke to her. He called himself the prince of Rhem: His diadem made Drisde sure His word was good, but doubting still He would not kill her if she tried To run away, she slipped within Her belt a thin blade, and she tied A vial of poison round her neck.
The prince then beckoned her to come. Where’re he went the trolls withdrew To let him through, and she saw some Salute to him, and then she guessed He was the best of all the trolls--
That Rhem was what her people called The evil hall, Deürr, where holes Were dug for dwellings, dark and deep, And many foul things lived therein. The place had such an evil name, That no Men came there but in sin.
So why, she wondered, was this man, More gentle than those of her kin, Consorting with the enemy? What kind of leader had he been Among her people, such that those In Deürr chose to let him come To live and lead as one of them?
She followed him, to beating drum, To where his chariot stood prepared. A thousand stared in awe as they Stood, battle-ready, side by side-- And then with pride they rode away.
(note: The first line (Because) finishes the last line of part I and should hang right, but I can't figure out how to make it do that)
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posted
Very cool Brinestone - I'm really enjoying it. I love reading this sort of poetry aloud - I love the way it sounds and I understand it better:
I really liked the line
quote: He saw at last what he’d become: Both deaf and dumb to evil things.
- kinda reminds me of the world today.
also liked
quote: But this time fate stepped in to save Her from a death most hideous, Insidious, and inhumane.
I love the way this flows.
Just a thought - if you can't get it published in book form maybe you'd get more interest from some of the fantasy/ sci-fi magazines instead. This might help identify some that might be interested.
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I like the story so far, but if you do try to get it published, you'd need to do some serious work on the meter and forced rhyme. If you're just doing this for yourself and casual readers, leave it as is. But if you're interested in improving the craft of your poetry, you might want to check out the Poetry Free-for-all at www.everypoet.com. If you go there wanting to learn how to make good poetry it'll help greatly.
posted
Dagonee, would you mind pointing out a few places at least that need work with rhyme and meter? I can see some ("More gentle than those of her kin" is one; It would have to read, "More GENtle THAN those OF her KIN," which is awkward), but I'd like some help polishing this. I've participated in poetry forums before, and the fact is, I'm fed up with the inevitable line:
Just give up on the rhyme and do it in free verse.
I don't want to. I can write free verse just fine. What I want help with is perfecting my rhyming poem. Sorry about the rant. I just find that no one can offer help; they just tell you to give up right away. And that's really annoying.
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posted
Brinestone, thanks so much for posting. Whenever I think of epic poetry, I think back to a college professor I had (a really long time ago!). He said how much he loved getting his PhD on the GI Bill, because the government was paying him to do what he loved most in the world: read poetry and books!
He often talked about his impression of how poetry was meant to be read, mostly in bars, with a pint, and everyone getting into the spirit of the poem. Your epic is perfect for that environment! It really does make me want to find out what happens next.
I'm too long gone from college writing classes or serious study of the craft to offer anything in the way of constructive criticism. I'd definitely take advantage of the various writers' forums if you're wanting to turn the poem into a commercially viable venture. For reading enjoyment, though, it was great stuff.
posted
Sorry about my whiny rant. It probably sounded like I didn't want any criticism at all, and that's not what I meant to say. In fact, I just joined www.everypoet.com, and I got some constructive feedback on a sonnet, so there you go.
Here's the last segment. I hope you enjoy it.
Part IV
The man-troll’s charm and beauty made Her less afraid of all the swarms Of trolls that leered and marched behind The chariot, grinding bones and arms Of valiant men beneath their feet, Who’d gone to greet the Lord of Death, Or who lay dying even now-- And a few cowards, hiding breath.
By nightfall they had traveled far. Like yellow stars the village lights Gleamed miles below, still miles away. Now, with the day’s eye gone, the fights Her people fought could just be seen By Drisde’s keen eyes. Torches danced And flickered, plunged and fell and waved, And banners braved the violence, lanced With lights and shadows. Drisde turned From what she’d learned and saw the man. He watched the battles also, and He clenched his hands; his face was wan.
“They do not stop for even sleep,” He said, his deep voice trembling. He had not seen her standing there, So without care, his mumbling Continued on. She went to him Upon a whim, and murmured, low, “I did not know they loved to fight, Even at night. Is battle so Invigorating that they can, Both troll and man, live without sleep?”
“No.” He only spoke a word, But Drisde heard a discourse, deep And dark and dreadful, and her heart, Though hardened, started its first thaw.
“We’re killing them,” she said at last, And, knowing, gasped, and then she saw, As if in vision, all the dead That she had lead to death and hell, And with them mingled all the ghosts Of all the hosts that ever fell Because of her high family’s hate.
“Is it too late to end the war?” She whispered, fearing it was so.
“I do not know, but one year more May be too long to wait for peace, When blood and ceaseless violence Will rule the world without restraint. Let us not faint,” said Deürr’s prince, “But let us be victorious, Let it of us be said in days To come, our peace was worth the fight, That battle’s night at last in rays Of sunlight ended, giving way To better days of peace and love, Trolls serving men and mankind trolls From deepest holes to skies above.”
His eyes were bright with energy, And, smiling, he grasped Drisde’s hand.
“Why did you join the trolls?” she said. “Their hearts and minds are ugly, and They seek to kill all of mankind.”
“I would remind you,” said the prince, “That you were traveling with trolls, And my men chose to save you, since I noticed you were humankind.”
“Human!” Her mind dizzied, not Sure what he meant or what he’d seen. “What do you mean? My Men have fought For mankind’s sake, as tall and true As any who could be called Men. You are mistaken; I am she Who boldly leads the house of Men. I hold the blade of Hasilford, The very sword my brother held And wielded, and it was the bane Of hundreds, pain of those who killed My kinsmen and their subjects. You, A traitor, cruelly say to me That I am weak and vile as you?”
“I saw your ‘subjects;’ they are foul as any prowling trolls I’ve seen. I could not call them men if you Would threaten to kill, hurt, demean, Or otherwise cause harm to me If I’d not say they were.” She could not understand. “But you say I Look fair and light as women should?”
“Yes, lady, which is why my men And I came then to save you from The hordes of trolls who’d captured you. If I knew you so loved that scum, I would have left you to their wiles.”
“Their wholesome smiles,” said she, “I trust, Unlike the leers of your good ‘men.’” She looked to them with pure disgust.
A strange thing happened to her then, For she saw men, not ugly trolls. They worked and walked like brothers might, And in the night she saw their souls, like twinkling stars, shine out their eyes. Drisde’s surprise was so great that She cried out, grasped the prince’s hand, Her eyes wide; and her voice was flat.
“They’re like my own men now, I see,” She said, and he soon understood. “The trolls are only in our minds, A trick that blinds us to the good That is in both your men and mine.”
She seemed to shine with inner light As he looked on her standing there. Her face was fair, her mind was bright, And he bent forth to kiss her lips. Her fingertips kept him away. “First we must end the war,” she said, And turned her head toward the grey That hailed the mountain’s coming dawn.
Part V
They traveled on and reached the camp Just after nightfall the next day. Exhausted, they raised up the lamp To show the coming of the prince.
Catching a glimpse of Drisde’s face, A group of troll-men took their swords And rushed in hordes out of the place.
Before the prince could call them off, There flew aloft three arrows--two that caught him in the throat and chest And one her breast, all swift and true.
The prince’s men came to his aid But could not save their gentle lord. And by his side, poor Drisde lay, But soon was slain by some man’s sword.
None ever knew they’d tried to end The war, and friendship of the Men Was never sought in ages since They slew the prince. They mourned, and then
They drew their swords and joined the fight That went on, night and day. Their souls Became so ugly that in time, Once so sublime, all turned to trolls.
And on they fight and love their hate. And ever do they try to kill The last troll that they find to slay, And to this day, they’re fighting still.
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posted
Brinestone, sorry I didn't answer your question. I'm not very good at meter. I can tell when it's right, but not what's wrong when it isn't.
However, some of the people at everypoet are amazing. As long as you approach the forum there with the idea of learning, they're very supporting.
It can be an ego-crushing experience. But there's few other places with such an abundance of expertise that's willing to help beginning to intermediate poets. And generally they won't tell you "don't use rhyme and meter." What they will tell you is not to compromise for rhyme and meter, which is good advice. If you're going to go for it, you need to put the work in.
It's clear your willing and able to do that, so I'd expect some good lessons there. I think this poem is greatly helped by not being in free verse.
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It probably sounded like I didn't want any criticism at all, and that's not what I meant to say. In fact, I just joined 
