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"She preferred that brute Leofric to your sublime love.  So don’t try to give me lessons about love, my lord."

– Dunstan to Alred, "Alred wastes his tears"

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I Find No Peace

Tiffany's picture

Submitted by Tiffany on Tue, 03/02/2010 - 14:45.

As I was analyzing this poem for AP Lit, I found that this whole scenario reminded me of someone who experienced (un)requited love. It's by Thomas Wyatt and it goes as follows:

I Find No Peace

I find no peace, and all my war is done;
I fear, and hope. I burn, and freeze like ice.
I fly above the wind, yet can I not arise.
And naught I have, and all the world I seize on.
That loseth nor locketh holdeth me in prison,
And holdeth me not, yet can I 'scape nowise;
Nor letteth me live nor die at my devise,
And yet of death it giveth me occasion.
Without eyen [eyes] I see, and without tongue I plain;

I desire to perish, and yet I ask health;
I love another, and thus I hate myself;
I feed me in sorrow, and laugh at all my pain.
Likewise displeaseth me both death and life,
And my delight is causer of this strife.

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Lothere's picture

Yay! Sonnets! This poem

Submitted by Lothere on Tue, 03/02/2010 - 17:21.

Yay! Sonnets!

This poem reminds me of one by his contemporary in France, Louise Labé.

Je vis, je meurs: je me brûle et me noie,
J'ai chaud extrême en endurant froidure;
La vie m'est et trop molle et trop dure,
J'ai grands ennuis entremélés de joie.

Tout en un coup je ris et je larmoie,
Et en plaisir maint grief tourment j'endure,
Mon bien s'en va, et à jamais il dure,
Tout en un coup je sèche et je verdoie.

Ainsi Amour inconstamment me mène
Et, quand je pense avoir plus de douleur,
Sans y penser je me trouve hors de peine.

Puis, quand je crois ma joie être certaine,
Et être en haut de mon désiré heur,
Il me remet en mon premier malheur.

Translation (not by me):

I live and die; drowning I burn to death,
Seared by the ice and frozen by the fire;
Life is as hard as iron, as soft as breath;
My joy and trouble dance on the same wire.

In the same sudden breath I laugh and weep,
My torment pleasure where my pleasure grieves;
My treasure's lost which I for all time keep,
At once I wither and put out new leaves.

Thus constant Love is my inconstant guide;
And when I am to pain's refinement brought,
Beyond all hope, he grants me a reprieve.

And when I think joy cannot be denied,
And scaled the peak of happiness I sought,
He casts me down into my former grief.

Don't get me started with poetry that "reminds me of someone". Very Happy We will never finish. I think I use poetry to inspire my writing in the same way that many people use songs. Here, for a random example, is "The Lugaid and Ferdie Poem" by e.e.cummings:

the boys i mean are not refined
they go with girls who buck and bite
they do not give a fuck for luck
they hump them thirteen times a night

one hangs a hat upon her tit
one carves a cross on her behind
they do not give a shit for wit
the boys i mean are not refined

they come with girls who bite and buck
who cannot read and cannot write
who laugh like they would fall apart
and masturbate with dynamite

the boys i mean are not refined
they cannot chat of that and this
they do not give a fart for art
they kill like you would take a piss

they speak whatever's on their mind
they do whatever's in their pants
the boys i mean are not refined
they shake the mountains when they dance

Yeah!

Now I have to go write Cynan... no poem for him yet. Hmm, maybe "Twas brillig and the slithy toves..."

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Tiffany's picture

I just really felt that that

Submitted by Tiffany on Tue, 03/02/2010 - 17:58.

I just really felt that that poem reminded me of him! As do most original love songs. The rapture and agony of love...especially the unrequited kind.

Those poems were very similar. I kinda even saw the same structure. I love the paradox in these poems. So poignant. And true.

The Lugaid/Ferdie poem scares me a bit. They are awful. And e.e. cummings is his own breed of poet. Very interesting poem indeed.

The Jabberwocky? Haha.

I think it's cool that poetry inspires you in that way. I get certain images in my head. I create all this amazing background to it and then the poem is over. That's why I like stories waaaay better.

Have fun writing about Blocky. Maybe you could create a poem for him?

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Lothere's picture

Yeah e.e.cummings is his own

Submitted by Lothere on Tue, 03/02/2010 - 18:10.

Yeah e.e.cummings is his own breed of poet all right... THE AWESOME BREED. That poem is wonderful because the boys are so creepy and vulgar and you're both fascinated and appalled the whole time (just like with Lugaid and Ferdie!), and then with the last line the poet shoots a giant cartoon cannon at you, and you're standing there all black and charred like Wile E. Coyote on a bad day, and then The Roadrunner comes along and brushes you with a feather and you fall into a pile of ash with eyeballs that go *blink* *blink*. THAT IS HOW AWESOME HE IS.

You are certainly free to post as many "This poem reminds me of" posts as you like, because I love poetry with all the exuberance of the ignorant and unlettered. But if you get ME started I will be all over the place. (Also I might break out the Kraash poetry, and you will cry.)

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Tiffany's picture

There is Kraash poetry????

Submitted by Tiffany on Tue, 03/02/2010 - 18:18.

There is Kraash poetry???? Sad

I remember reading e.e. in elementary and middle school and all I though was "Wait, he doesn't capitalize or put periods in his sentences! And he gets PAID to do that!" So try to explain poetry and technique to a younger version of me and I would have simply grumbled in your face. Now that I can see the symbolism and strategic uses without someone whacking me in the head, I really do love poetry. Mind you, I don't really care much for the pretentious sort that you can tell was simply uninspired by natural creative flow, unless you count grading as inspiration. Rolling Eyes

Now that I have the go ahead, I will be posting several miscellaneous poems! Wooooohoo! Now we need a random poetry board or "Real Life reminds me of..." board!

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