Category: Poetry

“Word-burned Allies”
April 30, 2014

On Semantics

Philosophers may lounge in smokey dens
Imbibing wisdom ‘neath a flowing cask
While by the wordy fires at length hey bask.
O they could speak ‘till God made dry the fens
whilst multiplying arguments by tens
disguising fears. The words serve as a mask
o’er questions Art herself might take to task
could she but see those blots from inky pens.

Yet of their many words none do describe
the spirt nor the method of my art –
how once in sylvan glen the warriors wept,
why bitter, broken love sent forth the gibe,
when music did make whole the wounded heart,
or other moments that my song hath kept.

Petrarchan sonnet (a b b a  a b b a  c d e c d e) written 9-9-13

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The Art Garden

I stumbled once upon a garden large.
Twas bordered by a gate of iron wrought
Well-craft about with many creatures charge’d
For rampant, sleeping, dancing were they caught.

’Twas quick apparent its creator thought
His garden more enriched by many flowers
Some bloom’ed wild but others had been taught
to grow and flourish on the ancient bowers.

Bold blossoms brought the eye to note the towers
Untam’ed ones cavorted at their base
To note them all one need wander for hours
Each stem did have its own distinctive grace.

A garden perfect requires many parts.
How so akin to flowers are the arts!

The Spenserian Sonnet (a b a b  b cb c  c d c d   e e) written 9-9-13

 

A challenge had been posted that any of us currently “in discussion” about what it meant to be a “bard” or what “bardic arts” included or did not include, was to write a sonnet on the matter as a means of, I suppose, putting our money where our mouths are. These were my offerings.

Four Tanka On The Autumn Equinox

-autumn-

Broken free at last,
golden leaves go out dancing
like girls freed from the tea house,
brightly dressed in rustling silks,
giggling from behind their fans.

– winter-

In her hand the brush
Makes lines that are as graceful
as Crane taking flight.
Yet her lines hold a stillness
the stone pagoda envies.

-spring-

O moon, come down here,
Said the emperor’s daughter.
I am catching frogs
But dropped my only lantern
as I watched you from the bridge.

-summer-

The old koi looks up
to see the eyes of the fox.
Why brother, how kind
That you have come to visit.
How is it I may serve you?

These are part of a challenge issued by a gentle in the Kingdom of Calontir…

In my Kingdom of Calontir, King Damien has been challenging people to pick one project they have always wanted to do, and to take one year and do it. I have accepted the challenge, and my project is this.

In the year 1205 one of the great anthologies of Japanese poetry was completed, the Shin Kokin Wakashu. It collected 2000 poems in traditional format (tanka, poems of five lines in 5-7-5-7-7 syllable format) in 20 chapters, on 12 subjects: Spring, summer, autumn, winter, congratulations, laments, partings, travel, love, miscellaneous, Shinto poems, and Buddhist poems.

My goal is to create an SCA Shin Kokin Wakashu. I will collect poems for one year, until 9/17/2014, or until we reach 2000 poems (the size of the original). At that time the poems will be distributed for free online, to spread the word fame of our poets.

Poetry must follow the tanka/waka format of five lines of 5-7-5-7-7 sylables. Poems will be taken from anyone, regardless of persona, and will be credited how they wish (indicate in email). Art submissions or anyone who wants to help beautify it will be gratefully accepted as well.

Submissions should be sent to SCAWakaBook@gmail.com