mr_blue_owl Posted November 24, 2009 Share Posted November 24, 2009 Hi everyone, my name is Keith and this is my first post on here I live in Kuala Lumpur and do the odd bit of writing (not very good) poems, the odd short story and I am half way through writing a novel (30,000 words) Here is a poem I wrote last week It is a very sad poem Hope it's not too depressing! Bolibar When the mutant child was born The Piper at the gates of dawn Played a dirge into the night The Devil laughed with such delight And cried ‘He is my spawn’ His hands were claws, his face a scar They kept him in a brown glass jar A dark damp cellar stowed away That never saw the light of day They named him ‘Bolibar’ He grew into a hideous thing Scaly skin with hair like string Poor Bolibar, he yearned so much To feel his mother’s loving touch To hear her sweet voice sing But no words reached his shapeless ears No friends had he throughout the years Cold winter nights he slept unclad But never cried, because he had No eyes to shed the tears They came and sealed the jar of glass And piped in lethal toxic gas Alone he drew his final breath Alone he journeyed after death To join the Devil’s mass When the mutant child had died The Piper cast his pipes aside And as the sun sank in the West The Devil welcomed his new guest As angels watched, and cried Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ron Blanco Posted November 24, 2009 Share Posted November 24, 2009 Nice one Mr Blue. I liked your poem, though it is certainly a bit odd. What made you write it? It was easy to read and I followed the story along nicely. I thought the image of a child in a jar was intriguing. But I also wondered why they finally decided to seal the jar and gas him having kept him alive so long. Did i miss something? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
mr_blue_owl Posted November 24, 2009 Author Share Posted November 24, 2009 Hi Ron, Glad you liked the poem, I am not really sure what made me write it, the first verse just sort of sprung into my mind and the rest followed. I guess I may have been thinking about all the millions of unfortunate people in this world who never get a shot at living a decent life,. Most probably his mother did not want to kill her son but eventually grew so full of revulsion with the creature she had produced, that she could no longer stand having him around. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ron Blanco Posted November 24, 2009 Share Posted November 24, 2009 Good stuff Mr Blue. I find that having a few pointers as to the poet's thoughts helps me to see it in a new light. I like it even more following your comments. Every verse contains something interesting. If anything I'd consider lengthening the tale by a verse or two. Also you suggest it is the mother's decision to get rid of the child, whereas you use 'they came and sealed the jar'. Perhaps it would be more effective to make it more obvious that it was the mother's decision. It flows along nicely, tells an intriguing tale, and contains a strong message. It reminds me of the poem The Lady of Shalott, which incidentally is one of the nation's five most popular poems (according to the BBC's Nation's Favourite Poems). Perhaps with a bit of work, Bolibar might line up against her. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
mr_blue_owl Posted November 24, 2009 Author Share Posted November 24, 2009 Hi Ron, Thank you for your kind words, I will indeed add a couple of verses, I doubt it will be challenging Lady of Shalott:) Best Keith Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
mr_blue_owl Posted November 24, 2009 Author Share Posted November 24, 2009 How does this sound? Bolibar When the mutant child was born The Piper at the gates of dawn Played a dirge into the night The Devil laughed with such delight And cried ‘He is my spawn’ His hands were claws, his face a scar They kept him in a brown glass jar In a dark, damp cellar stowed away That never saw the light of day They named him ‘Bolibar’ He grew into a hideous thing Scaly skin with hair like string Poor Bolibar, he yearned so much To feel his mother’s loving touch To hear her sweet voice sing But no words reached his shapeless ears No friends had he throughout the years Cold winter nights he slept unclad But never cried, because he had No eyes to shed the tears The mother’s bitter thoughts increased How could her son be such a beast? And when the demons in her head Convinced her he’d be better dead Resistance duly ceased The father stood and held his tongue Although he knew to kill was wrong His anguish had reached fever pitch He blamed it on a world in which Bolibar did not belong And so they sealed the jar of glass And pumped in lethal toxic gas Alone he drew his final breath Alone he journeyed after death To join the Devil’s mass When the mutant child had died The Piper cast his pipes aside And as the sun sank in the West The Devil welcomed his new guest As angels watched, and cried Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
mr_blue_owl Posted November 25, 2009 Author Share Posted November 25, 2009 Tweaked it a little Bolibar When the mutant child was born The Piper at the gates of dawn Played a dirge into the night The Devil laughed with such delight And cried ‘He is my spawn’ His hands were claws, his face a scar They kept him in a brown glass jar In a dark, damp cellar stowed away That never saw the light of day They named him ‘Bolibar’ He grew into a hideous thing Scaly skin with hair like string Poor Bolibar, he yearned so much To feel his mother’s loving touch To hear her sweet voice sing But no words reached his shapeless ears No friends had he throughout the years Cold winter nights he slept unclad But never cried, because he had No eyes to shed the tears Reviled, rejected, naked, blind He pondered with befuddled mind What he’d done wrong to be so hated To be forever castigated Derided and maligned His mother wished her son deceased Considered him as Satan’s beast And when the demons in her head Convinced her he’d be better dead Her conscience was released His father stood and held his tongue And though he knew to kill was wrong His anguish now reached fever pitch He blamed it on a world in which Bolibar did not belong And so they sealed the jar of glass And pumped in lethal toxic gas Alone he drew his final breath Alone he journeyed after death To join the Devil’s mass When the mutant child had died The Piper cast his pipes aside And as the sun sank in the West The Devil welcomed his new guest As angels watched, and cried Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ron Blanco Posted November 25, 2009 Share Posted November 25, 2009 Good effort Mr Blue. Re the extra verses. I like the verse with the mother, it adds something to the tale in my opinion. I would remove the verse with the father which I don't think is as strong or as emotive. I'm also not sure about the verse where Bolibar ponders his unfortunate situation. If you think about starving or disadvantaged children, often they seem to accept it and get on with it without complaint. You might also take my comments, just one opinion, with a pinch of salt. I'd be interested to hear what others think. How happy are you with the poem, and with those extra verses? That's what really matters! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
mr_blue_owl Posted November 25, 2009 Author Share Posted November 25, 2009 Good effort Mr Blue. Re the extra verses. I like the verse with the mother, it adds something to the tale in my opinion. I would remove the verse with the father which I don't think is as strong or as emotive. I'm also not sure about the verse where Bolibar ponders his unfortunate situation. If you think about starving or disadvantaged children, often they seem to accept it and get on with it without complaint. You might also take my comments, just one opinion, with a pinch of salt. I'd be interested to hear what others think. How happy are you with the poem, and with those extra verses? That's what really matters! Hi Ron, I agree the 'pondering' verse should go. It was a not very good attempt at adding a bit more pathos. I had a bit of trouble getting it to gel and I personally find that verses which flow straight off the pen (or keyboard) always sound better when read back - due to being more natural I guess. I also agree that the father verse is a bit weak (although I kind of like the last two lines), however I would like to keep the father on the scene and will try to beef up the verse and see how it comes out I really appreciate you taking time to comment and your advice is always objective and most welcome - without salt! Cheers Keith Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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