RE: A Ballad about a Ballad, in Two Parts

You are viewing a single comment's thread from:

A Ballad about a Ballad, in Two Parts

in hive-170798 •  5 years ago 

Wow, this was a wonderful and powerful poem @owasco. And an amazingly competent ballad given that you have never written in this form before! The ballad How To Say The Word Kiss engenders pathos and a sadness, that touches my heart personally as I was the only person by my grandfather's bed side as he passed and heard him utter his last words. He, unlike your father, remained very bitter until the end and his final words were of that mindset.

Your poem shows how many people change and mellow in old age with a life well lived, and this often manifests in the most profound realizations at that transition between life and what comes after.

Thank you for such an accomplished and emotionally vulnerable ballad @owasco. It means so much to me to me to see great poetry like this posted to The Ink Well, and knowing that my prompt even had the smallest part in inspiring someone to challenge themselves as a writer makes my heart soar.

From a technical stand point this poem has many examples of modern poetic devices that show craft and artistry:

Alliteration, in-line rhymes and half rhymes:

scraps of napkins

He told a tale I’d never imagined
of longings, lust and love

a tapestry of nearly never-told stories

some of us wear them well

Using modern devices like this is the calling card of a contemporary poet writing in an ancient form. A meeting of two styles and times, expressed through poetry. This is what I strive for when writing in form, and what modern published poets do so well, bringing new poetic devices to the constraints of form. You do a masterful job of the ballad, especially given you write almost exclusively in free verse 🙂

As a freestyle poet, I took some liberties with the ballad form, I know. I hope you will forgive those. They work for me.

No worries, so did I with the poem I used as an example in the prompt post.

But when the prompt was (finally) posted, I was a bit crestfallen. “What? I have to write a ballad?!” I had never done any such thing and at first it seemed an unwelcome imposition on my usual freestyle of writing poetry.

Ha ha, I am a cruel taskmaster ;-) But the form was optional, but in your case, I think that you have made something amazing and unique through challenging yourself with the form of the ballad.

I wrote something very unlike anything I have ever written before. And I like it. I am grateful for that opportunity. Thanks so much for reading my work.

I'm so glad you got a lot out of it.

In conclusion I would just like to say that your final verses were sublime...

“All moments of chaos eventually settle
into islands of exquisite calm and bliss.”
“All that matters is the k
when you say the word kiss.”

Wisdom that almost comes from a place transcendental, poignant and cathartic.

This is @raj808 commenting from the community account.

Thanks again for such an accomplished and excellent ballad 🙂

Authors get paid when people like you upvote their post.
If you enjoyed what you read here, create your account today and start earning FREE STEEM!
Sort Order:  

Raj, you beat me to it with the praise and appreciation for this ballad - but you didn't mention the photo at the end, so I get to say #AWESOME photo!!! The notes on napkins at the bedside of the dying man - what a powerful image - what an immense effort to capture and preserve his words, at the end.
I especially love this:

His memory may have been wobbly.
He did speak of abnormal things:
of acrobats with fast peristalsis
and wombats wearing fortunes in bling.

You have a gift for contrasting the darkest moments with the "nonsensical," which ultimately makes as much sense as anything.

I love the dispute (unspoken!) about the K vs the S.

One hallmark of great poetry and prose is the author's #ear. At a writer's workshop, way back when, @rhondak and I despaired over efforts to help a certain "gregory" write prose that didn't sound like square wooden wheels. His grammar was precise and correct, his sentences complete, but his prose so stilted, readers couldn't engage with his characters.

Some things cannot be taught. You have the "ear," @owasco, and the gift!

I worked really hard on this Carol! (read my comment above to raj) It took forever. I posted nothing else all week because this is all I did.
I'm delighted with how people have responded to it, the best reward there is. It's interesting that you chose this part

His memory may have been wobbly.
He did speak of abnormal things:
of acrobats with fast peristalsis
and wombats wearing fortunes in bling.

to highlight, because that was one of the other bits that came out that way as a freewrite and never needed changing. The freewritten parts contain the magic ingredients, hen the writer has to get all the magical ingredients to work together to cast a spell. Something like that. I could use another cup of coffee. xo

I mean below, read my comment to raj below

I remember that certain "gregory" and his square wheels....

  ·  5 years ago (edited)

The napkin at the end was just the icing on the cake.
i din't know what to say.

It was so sad... even I have my moments (as big burly bloke) king of writing torturous scenes, but this ending made me cry, I'm jut a kitten really ! ;-)

oh my I just saw this comment! It made me cry too.

Thank you raj808!

I think that you have made something amazing and unique through challenging yourself with the form of the ballad.

I'm so glad I did. It wasn't easy. For the first few days, except for the few parts that came out right at the first, the whole thing read like the square wooden wheels that @carolkean mentioned. I despaired I would ever make those wheels round. But I persevered. My earlier drafts had all the parts that I knew were ineffective in red typeface, and half the thing was red. Gradually I worked those parts out until I could turn their letters black, and sometime yesterday the whole thing was black. At that point, I started reading it out loud to make sure it fell trippingly and continued to make tiny changes. That was a rush, like a haiku falling into place.

I sure don't write poetry for the (unmentioned) prizes, or the curation but for the goosebumps my own work gives me, and hopefully a few readers, when it's finished. That's how I know a piece of mine, poetry or fiction, is nearly done - when I read it and I get goosebumps.

Thanks again! Great contest! I will definitely be back. 11 PST tomorrow, right?