An Awe-Inspiring View

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A sunset, gold and blue
A purple-silk wrapped debut
Tracks across the western sky
God in nature glorified

The ocean waves crest and wash
Against a line that's never crossed
A beach, a bulwark, made of sand
A line between the earth and land

Stalwart against a raging wind
Trees mourn for what might have been
Adding their wails to the breeze
Bemoaning the winter's early freeze

The sun now gone, I stand instead
With stars above a profane head
A cosmos stretching infinitely
Farther than human eyes can see

Too marvelous to manifest
And I, a speck of nothingness
Sit solemnly but bleary-eyed
Contemplating fratricide

(My brother took my ball)
Last edited by Phoenixfire on Fri Feb 02, 2007 2:56 am, edited 2 times in total.
"....I hold with those who favor fire", Frost




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I really liked it! It flowed extremely well!




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You have some very strong imagery here in this piece, but there were a few spots where I stumbled.

My first issue is that I could use a bit more consistency with your rhyme scheme. You tend to switch from rhyming the first couplet in one stanza to rhyming the second couplet in the first stanza, and it makes the poem feel a bit unpolished.

I also wonder about the ending. Fratricide is the killing of one's brother, and here you are talking about how "[your] sister took the ball." I might try "parricide" instead (the killing of a close relative), or perhaps "sororicide."

You have some really good imagery, and I do enjoy the witty and unexpected ending. Good job!
--It is a curious thing, Cranly said dispassionately, how your mind is supersaturated with the religion in which you say you disbelieve.

-James Joyce, from A Portrait of the Artist As A Young Man




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you have just made my day. I was sure that fratricide was a term for killing a sibling. I never dreamed I could be so lucky as to get a specific term! I know the rhyming's a bit bumpy, but when I did it with the same amount of syllables in the same pattern, it didn't sound right.
"....I hold with those who favor fire", Frost



No great thing is created suddenly. There must be time. Give your best and always be kind.
— Epictetus