My Growth in Style


Back in the mid to late 1980’s I started writing poetry as a means of getting a  lot of off my mind as it were. But the rebel in me refused to follow any means of style or any such known  poetic methods etc. My writings often resembled mere catchment of words  entwined with some topics… In the mid 1990’s I returned to school as an adult and completed final school exams followed by  a B.A. in English Literature which I completed in 1998..    During my studies at University College Cork  I became fascinated by the writings of John Dunne 1572 – 1631. His style, and poetry itself captured me in a way no poet managed to do prior..  This is where I began to loosely base my style from or at least my poetry began to form style and rhythm  in some nature.

 

The growth in my style can be visible in the following poetry  The first below written in 1990’s, take a stroll through time in these pieces and see how I believe I have grown as a poet..

 

 

 

Shadows and Rainbows

 

 

In a land of shadows, near the land of rainbows

Such incredible thoughts in times like this.

No such place, No such thoughts,

Just blinding lights that flashed the mind.

 

As the mind rambles and beauty roams.

The pictures which enter the mind

Caught forever in a strange and arresting way,

All entwined with mind bending thoughts,

That boggle the mind with dreams.

 

 

Ill at ease with shadows in the mind,

Haunted by strange things unseen.

Shadows, shadows everywhere in the mind with ease.

Shadows or Rainbows they’re all the same,

Just some strange and wonderful thoughts.

 

 

Rainbows in the skies, rainbows in the mind,

Haunted by thoughts in unseen dreams,

Rainbows as bright as the light at night,

Bring the night so I could sleep.

 

Some combination this…… Shadows and Rainbows.

Or rainbows and shadows, some mix in a stained

Dream tainted with thoughts of shadows and rainbows,

Going round in never ending circles,

Waiting for a time when all will ease.

 

 

 

 

 

My earliest poem was the following short piece.

 

 

The Candle

 

 

Life is like a candle,

That burns both night and day.

For some it’s long and slender,

To others it’s short and deep.

 

 

The wax represents the living soul,

That melts in the heat of love.

Without the flame of love,

Life is cold and lifeless.

 

 

The flame represents the heart,

So tender and warm, but it dies

In the mildest of storms,

With loving care it burns eternally.

 

 

 

 

then advance to more recent poetry like

 

 

 

 

Sonnet 5

 

Watching the Sands of time flowing swiftly by

sitting near a way ward track trying through out,

His Blood stained the ground I stand I cry

But worldly worries warlike brings a shout.

 

His love for all falls freely on deaf ears, Few call,

No cry from the wandering crowd, not a Sob,

Yet the tune of the Pied Piper of Death not shy

Who takes the track the world expects, his camouflage.

 

Standing at the Crossroads of Life few see the track

that takes them on to eternal peace no tears all free.

A Kingdom of ceaseless splendour for all who respond

To the Call of the Creator’s Ceaseless compassion.

 

The choice that outcasts freely make becoming part of One,

Blame it on the Piper of death Why few answer the call

 

 

 

 

or more like

 

 

 

 

Mindful mimes infest my thought
Where they  bleed  every pore
First filter such infections fought,
Ringing right past barriers sore.

Bewildered blessed the undue tidings
Find fillings that  burned the core.
Weathered wrongs untrue bindings
That tethered hands that became sore.

Give great thanks for one who gave
Timeful tunes infest the mind
Find fresh life free from the grave
That tether which bound left behind.

Come cheerfully give all not little
Find Faith unfettered infestations anew

 

 

 

Thus you find a poet can develop and form some rhythm etc over time, if he or she is willing to change things up..  As always I like to keep meanings of poetry to myself, thus allowing people to form their own meaning of the writings. If the writings are good , Bad or indifferent to them it matters little in the larger scheme of things.  If we are gifted with an art form as it were how it appears to people should matter little  once we keep to that art form and grace the art world with our own little pieces of work…

 

As always if you feel the need to comment on any piece please feel free.. Judgment on a work is in the end  welcome But NOT necessary once the work is enjoyed.

 

 

 

Categories: Blog entries, PoetryTags: , , , , , , ,

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