Young Writers Society

I AM SO UNBELIEVABLY INTRIGUED BY YOUR THREAD ! <3

Alternate versions:

1. a)

The Purpose of a Statue

The chalk dust in the air is settled now.
I’ve sought, and sought, and now I come to rest.
Along the temple bridge: a dog, a cow,
their rowdy laughter roiling, never blessed.

I should be sitting, staring at the wall,
become a perch for birds to sit and sing.
The purpose of a statue, after all,
lies here, in leisure, friends sat in a ring.

Yes, their chatter is the highest good
if good were low, and yes, it is – I swear.
I’ve traded in my maps for drink and food,
though stone makes use of none, I cannot care.

Then pinpricks in the night sky sting my eyes,
I am afraid that all I’ve said is lies.


1. b)

The dust I kicked up

The dust I kicked up from my walk is gone.
It must have settled in the ruined stone,
in cracks where flowers sway, until a fawn
arrives and tramples buds near bloom alone.

I let the moss grow on my head and eyes,
reminding me of forests I once stalked.
My chest has lost its fire – here it lies
in embers that spoke, and coals that talked.

I sit among my still and smiling friends,
whose lips are sealed with plaster, age, and vines.
The winds are singing for them, to their ends,
that journey’s end is sweetest, loved by pines.

Then stars like pinpricks in the night awake,
and bait me with the road not mine to take.

I love the imagery of "The Restless Statue," Lim! My fav lines --> "I let the moss grow on my head and eyes, / reminding me of forests I once stalked." "I've traded in my maps for drink and food" from "The Purpose of a Statue" is also very intriguing; it emphasizes the directionlessness/wandering of the statue... Looking forward to all your poems this NaPo! ^-^

Thanks so much @Spearmint!

This is a sonnet with an extra stanza + half-rhymes in some parts instead of full rhymes.

2. a) The fire coughed

The fire coughed and sputtered in the dark,
although I’d whispered spells to it all night.
The forest tranquilised the singing lark,
as dawn arrived and ushered fainting light.

This toil is all there is, so said the crone,
her vice-like fingers on the meagre page –
this was the only book we had at home
though there were greater spells to learn and make.

There was no gate that barred the open path
that trickled from the village to the woods,
with cheery sprites and evening flames that laughed,
the crackle made by doing what they could.

I laughed – because I knew that was the heart:
for I could not be taught, so I depart.

Back to the regular Shakespearan sonnet. Whoops, no variorum today.

omg is your entire napo going to be sonnets??? I love it.

limi, i don't know how you do it, but every poem you write is such a beautiful work of art. and i don't know how you have the motivation to write alternate versions of your poems, but i'm glad you do! i never thought about looking at other themes or objects in a poem and writing from its point of view. they say art is supposed to make you think; well, you definitely made me think! amazing start to your napo; good luck on the rest <3

Ah these read so smoothly you definitely have a knack for sonnets and rhyming! I also love the expression "yawning dungeon" and all the moodiness / sort of quiet, peacefully-spooky mood of poem 3. Looking forward to reading more!

@Ventomology That's the plan! Glad you're enjoying these

@momonster Thanks so much for your thoughtful comment! I'm flattered that you find these poems to be thought-provoking.

@alliyah (somehow I'm glad to be able to type an 'a' in that tag again haha) Thanks so much! I'm glad the atmosphere of poem no. 3 is coming through.

4. a) Bones and Moss, the Road of Trials

The moss outlines the arching shapes on high
the head most like a tower, thick and steep
the jawbone with the jagged edge, I sigh,
no average traveller along which could creep.

They say there’s something to the road of trials,
but at once they curse and moan and groan
if a grain of sand objects or thus defiles,
the stepping stone a youthful traveller loans.

The dragon’s battle now is ancient lore,
its skeleton an obstacle at best.
I squeeze between the ribs and through the core
to clear a path and let the dead deeper rest.

One by one, I pick at small grey stones,
softening the danger of these bones.

4. b) They say the youth must cross a road of trials

The dragon’s bones lie naked on the road
and over time are overgrown with moss,
the teeming green, the sprouts that overload
the rattling house, the memory of loss.

They say the youth must cross a road of trials,
defeat their demons, force them to atone,
but when they see a traveller imperilled –
at once they curse and sigh and moan and groan

The dragon’s battle now is ancient lore,
its skeleton an obstacle at best.
I squeeze between the ribs and through the core
to clear a path, to let it deeper rest.

One by one, I pick at small grey stones,
softening the danger of these bones.

Petrachan sonnet this time - not sure where I was going with this one, it's pretty ambiguous, but there we go. I def hadn't expected elves to appear in this poem xD

yessss going beyond Shakespeare. Next you'll have to do spenserian eh?