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Poetry Compilation #3

by GoodieGoat


The following are based upon the works of J. R. R. Tolkien and The Legend of Zelda.


Pipeweed

Through the groves of weeping willows theres is a manor of gray dreary stone

Cutting through the silence are the waves of Ekkaia and the song of sombre moans

Here I learned the ways of compassion from the master of the sorrowthrone

Timelessly I spent as a steward of the Shepherd's call,

And all the hearts we did comfort as the sun and moon did rise and fall

Until one day from my lot I was taken when summoned to Ilmarin the Holiest Hall

I asked the Elder King "Who Am I to stand against the lord of secondmost craven?"

And Him and Varda responded "Your meekness will make you the most immovable and graven."

And thus I sailed across the sea to Cirdan and the Grey Havens

***

Bestowed I Was Narya, to empower the free to overcome the tyrannous

Ruby red like my pipe, the White Council went to dispel the Necromancer and the snarls of Mirkwoods canis

There upon the bare rock through the webs of the dark was the Enemy's fortress, and we blasted him back to the damned land of Nostradamus

Soon we would depart for the final quest of our time perchance,

And to Elrond's flood I would add steeds to upon to Ringwraiths prance

I would cast down my foe the Balrog, and like a billow of smoke I was returned across the rainbow expanse

At Helm's Deep I'd ride, to vanquish with white new wrath

And in the ruins of Isengard the charlatan was removed of office and staff

And in the maw of Morannon, the Free People we're lead while Barad-Dur was cleaved in half

***

And so it came to be the idyllic land of the Shire,

Would be where the heros would come to save the West in the times of dire

How I love to sit and watch, the Hobbits and their hills and meadows Ashenmire, while about me flies the smoke of my pipe's fire

How this country is a botanomacer's dream,

To make the people laugh with my fireworks as their smiles gleam

Every day is a rhapsody, and every night we party in the moonbeams

Soon I must return to the Lady of Mercy, who taught my heart for others to bleed

So always drink your ale, make good fellowship, sing to the melody of the luthier's lead,

And never forget the power of some hearty Shire pipeweed

***

Forests of Valinor

All ye faithful descend from the Skycastle, framed by the raptor host and Greatest Power,

To the golden walls of Valmar, the throne of Ingwë, the bells tolling for the benedict gala's annointed hour

At the Star Queen's wells I take up the silver chalice, it overflows with pearlescent light,

Upon my lips is the taste of radiance, and from the tongue's of the people flows the songs of sprites

Outside the Huntsman's halls we make contests of archery and horsemanship upon tireless steeds

Northwards from the city gates, Nessa departs with lithesome prances, and the deer falter before her speed

I marvel at the flowers as they sway in the wind, which carries the shrill music of a nightingale's song

Vana waves farewell as we ride southeast towards the forests that to Orome belong

***

Hidden in the shadowy crags of the Pelóris we travel, with streams and foggy dew flowing from the mountainside,

The cultivating waters blanket the land, and towering above are the august redwood sentinels; we have arrived

Up atop a ridge downwind we gaze, as a doe rears her fawns,

Orome kills a spider of the Enemy, the elves and other Ainur will laugh when it's furs adorn his front lawn

Back around to the ground comes Arien blazing westwards, the sun's light twinkling through the decidious canopy,

The croaking oaks, the bumbling of bees, and the screams of cougars are such a wondrous cadency

The day is done, our adventure done, Nessa's run complete, I return to my home and family I so adore,

Where could I find such content besides the forests of Valinor?

***

Who Casts The Golden Spell of Salvation

"Devine Ones of old, please grant me the power to defend the people that are mine.

Please I implore, grant me your courage and bravery so before evil we don't resign.

Pity your servant, bestow your good wisdoms so I am always yours refined."

***

From the edge of time, from the extents of the skies, my vigil I always keep

The sounds of my songs grows quiet in the ears of my people, their fingers no longer harp, melodies cease from the vessel flute

The magic and wonder of the world grows dim, my assurances of love have become weak in their dreams of sleep

The watch of the forest wardens is languid, the beautied woods given to industrial fires, not a single plant spared from the uproot

The mirror to twilight lies dusty and unremembered, it's realm's horizons grow darker, the purple hazes ever nearer

Majesties of those who once flew loftily are bound to rocks, their artful vigor turned to sullen weary

The crystal aquamarine of the river palace made into ruins, its once spry denizens made inept, polluted water was once clear

The miners no longer have gold and gems to adore, only volcanic fire and ash to render them O so very leery

All the world grows old, hope and magic die with the passing of unnumbered lunations

Who will cast my golden spell of salvation?

***

Dark of late have been the visions of prophets, the runes of hell crack the sky, the final war fast approaching

The cornerstone of all chthonia marches with ghoul and swine, their blazing banners in rancor unfurled

Yet lo! The bellows of dragons sounds the song of the lionhearted paragon, to his deathless spirit we are fast holding

My chosen hero, raise my hallowed blade, forge it anew in the furnace of your suffering, become the exemplar Erl

Drive the sword into the pedestal, begin the ritual dance, be baptized by my refulgent light, by blood summon my goldenfire

Upon my holy spring the spirit of the sword now skates and serenades the coming of the ultimate victory

You are the chosen hero, I hear all prayers, and by all authority I am the world's purifier

Now go to the great forest, raise my aquila for all those who in good are unerring, and shout a battle cry atop the tallest hickory

I must now be the guiding light for the youth you cherish and give exaltation,

For I have found the one to shimmer in the fire of the golden spell of salvation

***

Towering above the castle upon a battlement looks the princess, despondent to the ruin upon the desolate horizon,

Wistful memories plagued her mind, joviality of the past was gone, only the smell of death draws near

But I am not unrighteous as to forget those who give their best, to leave the pure unenlightened

I charge thee holy one, arise with the blinding scared power in your fist, against hell's legions crush and domineer

I give to thee my sevenfold crown of diadems, be haloed and clothed with diaphanous marshal attire

Long ago in the tranquil past, this celestial instrument was mine, its strings are made of my goldenfire hair,

Now you as I once was are the bard of heaven, now enchant to lands with the melody of the goddess lyre

You are the shining shield of freedom, now ride forth and make war against the infernal hordes upon your white mare

Words fail to capture the propitious magic that casts all the world in illumination,

You, yes you, are the wellspring of the golden spell of our salvation

***

The Host of Hell marches by drum cadence and the crash of symbols, the howl of werewolves arries their battle lines

The Legions of Light make hast, the lances of the cataphracts are a line of gallant wrath

The place they gave battle is called "Field of Boiling Blood" in the old tongue, and such it would be in the war devine

Wails of anguish, cries of hate, hell's sulfur chocks the air, a great canvas for the bloodbath

There stood the archfiend, called Prince of Peril, Sulfurous Sorcerer, Herald of Hades, Originator of All Odiousness, the first evil,

Me and my enemy gave savage battle, in his triumph he boasted of a dark world under his sword and foot

Yet lo and hail! Here cometh my chosen that wield the blade and magic of heavens, hot like a stainglassed cathedral

The hero gutted the Demon King, the princess snuffed his evil with golden light, not again it would escape from our fervour

All the world's evil is gone! Let us proclaim the joyous proclamation!

Burning forever more is the spell of goldenfire, we have come to see salvation

***

Come all to the riverside, be refreshed by its waters, have you pick of the choicest fruit,

The realm from whence the goddesses departed and our mortal plane are now one

Verdant fields are covered by the blessed wind, and white stars in purple skies to arcadia solute

The sanctum sanctorum now rests upon my mountainside, the iconography of providence makes idyll and all everyoung

Yet my hero, yet my lightbringer, there is but one last ritual, we must ascend the holy mountain, to the Temple of Light

We walk upon hallowed ground, to a great chamber of crystalline azure blue

Seven gemstones from the diadem crown for seven altars, rainbow magics take flight

Hero! Give the sword its final rest, Lightbringer! Liberate with your gold light, by your faith and hope always true,

All those dead are resurrected, the world is filled with rapt cries of peerless celebration

And those dead were risen anew, those who are loved by the swordsmen and she who casts the golden spell of salvation

***

The long nocturne is at its end, the mountainside temple outshines the sun

But do not fret, your adventure has only just begun,

For immortality is fathomless, and the war against time we've won

***


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Sun Jan 15, 2023 9:59 am
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Liminality wrote a review...



Hey GoodieGoat! I’m not far enough into Tolkien’s works to properly engage with some of this I think, but I’ll try my best reviewing these. (I’ve also not played The Legend of Zelda games, though I’ve picked up a bit of the lore here and there online, so hopefully I’ll still be able to give some useful feedback here.)

General Impressions

Pipeweed
The best lines in this poem for me are:

I asked the Elder King "Who Am I to stand against the lord of secondmost craven?"
And Him and Varda responded "Your meekness will make you the most immovable and graven."

The Elder King and Varda’s line is cryptic and slightly ironic in a way that does remind me quite a bit of the prophecies / sayings about the hobbits. Something about the seemingly small and harmless having a hidden strength. I also like the assonance with the repeated [m] sounds in “ [m]eekness will [m]ake you the [m]ost i[mm]ovable”.

Forests of Valinor
Generally, I quite enjoyed the imagery in this poem – it’s very picturesque. My favourite line was:
At the Star Queen's wells I take up the silver chalice, it overflows with pearlescent light,

“pearlescent” is such a lovely way to describe the shine of silver, and evokes the fantastical setting as well. I could also believe that this speaker was someone who delights in this sort of sport based on the way they talk about the forest.

Who Casts The Golden Spell of Salvation
The lines that stood out the most for me here were:
My chosen hero, raise my hallowed blade, forge it anew in the furnace of your suffering, become the exemplar Erl
Drive the sword into the pedestal, begin the ritual dance, be baptized by my refulgent light, by blood summon my goldenfire

I like the ‘turn’ to a more forceful tone. The division of each line into 4 parts (by the commas) gives it a nice rhythm.
The first and third poems have narratives that make me think of ‘hero’s journey’ type stories, or epics. The second poem leans more towards being a lyric poem, describing the everyday beauty of this forest and its significance to the speaker.

Glows – What I liked

Something I liked in all three poems was the ‘broad’ narrative structure. The story in each poem is satisfying to read. It doesn’t feel like there are any glaring loose ends. For ‘Pipeweed’ and ‘Who Casts The Golden Spell of Salvation’ there is a problem introduced in the first part of the poem that the hero needs to solve, and by the final stanza that problem has been solved. The second poem is a bit more open-ended since there was no problem introduced (which is why I said it has more of the feel of a lyric poem than a strictly narrative one) but the speaker’s return home after a day in the forests plus the concluding line “Where could I find such content besides the forests of Valinor?” does give a satisfying ending.

Grows – Ideas to Consider

From what I can tell, these three poems generally have an irregular cadence. For example, if I go by syllable count, the first two stanzas of Pipeweed look like this: 18 syllables – 20 – 18 – 14 – 17 , 23 or 24 – 21 – 23 – 16. Is there an intent to making each line very long? (For reference, one line in a Shakespearan sonnet is 10 syllables.) Long lines are a bit ‘harder’ or more effortful to read aloud or even in your head, so I think as a reader I expect either 1. There is a reason a particular line is long, for instance a long line describing a long trek through the woods or 2. The lines are all consistently long, which as the syllable counts show, doesn’t seem to be the case in this part of Pipeweed, at least. And if my expectations are subverted, I’d like it better if I knew why that happened, by the end of the poem c:
And to Elrond's flood I would add steeds to upon to Ringwraiths prance

This line has 16 syllables, already a bit of a mouthful, but it contains the ‘heart’ of the story where most of the action is happening. So I’d question why this line is shorter than the earlier lines where less action is happening. (Or I’m wondering why this stanza is suddenly full of slightly shorter lines than the previous one.)

Another thing to consider is word choice. One part in ‘Forests of Valinor’ where I thought the word choice really worked was the ‘favourite line’ I quoted earlier. “I take up” rather than “I pick up” conveys the medieval romance / chivalric associations of some high fantasy (including Tolkien, I think, though I’m not 100% sure). It reminds me of a knight ‘taking up’ a sword. “wells” and “overflows” evoke the idea of liquid, so I imagine the light as flowing in a very liquid way. That doesn’t usually happen in real life, which is why my brain accepts this line as something that happened in a fantasy setting.
Meanwhile, I was a bit confused by the following line from the same poem:
The croaking oaks, the bumbling of bees, and the screams of cougars are such a wondrous cadency

“screams” is a word that brings negative connotations to my mind, so I can’t quite believe the speaker when they say it is “wondrous”. I’m not sure that “bumbling” is a sound – it seems more like a way of movement to me, which also has negative connotations.

Overall

The poems are solid enough from a narrative standpoint and I do like the concept of writing poetry based on established fantasy worlds. The attempt to create a poetic voice that could have come from a person within that setting is certainly ambitious, and I think you’ve done quite well in some parts. For example:
All ye faithful descend from the Skycastle

^ This phrase makes me believe the speaker is from a place far away in time from our modern world. I also appreciate the slight assonance between faithful/ Skycastle.
be baptized by my refulgent light, by blood summon my goldenfire

^ from the third poem, the word choices and word order here make the speaker sound like a goddess, authoritative and otherworldly.

If you’re planning on writing more of these or revising some of these poems, my main suggestions would be to consider what feelings certain word choices might evoke (and whether they contradict, and whether that contradiction helps or hinders the poem), as well as to think about rhythm and line length. Additionally, it might be helpful for reviewers to keep it to one poem per post/literary work - I've found that this encourages people to dig a little deeper.

Hope this helps – and keep writing!
-Lim




Liminality says...


Oop and just one more thing - this KB article has an explanation on poetic voice(s) that I think you might find helpful / give some inspo. Happy writing!



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Fri Jan 13, 2023 6:49 pm
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vampricone6783 wrote a review...



I love how this feels like a fairytale. It’s so interesting to read. It reminds me of Dungeons and Dragons. (It’s an rpg game in case you didn’t know.) I see this as an adventure a brave hero is taking over time. All of those poems make up a single fantasy novel. I think my favorite part was the “Who cast the golden spell of salvation” part.

I wish you a lovely day/night.




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Fri Jan 13, 2023 9:21 am
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AkuRashomon wrote a review...



Hi, hello there. This is Ina speaking. I am here to give you a quick comment/review of your poem compilation. Anyways, let's get into it.

I love the style of how you write it. It reminds me of the old poems in my English textbooks and those poetry book compilations. I love also how it relates to different characters in one poem. I'd never read such poems on the site 'til I read these ones. You are a pretty good poet, just a little grammatical errors, like you mispelling the word "anointed". I would like to write like you someday. My favorite poems this one:

"Forests of Valinor

All ye faithful descend from the Skycastle, framed by the raptor host and Greatest Power,

To the golden walls of Valmar, the throne of Ingwë, the bells tolling for the benedict gala's annointed hour

At the Star Queen's wells I take up the silver chalice, it overflows with pearlescent light,

Upon my lips is the taste of radiance, and from the tongue's of the people flows the songs of sprites

Outside the Huntsman's halls we make contests of archery and horsemanship upon tireless steeds

Northwards from the city gates, Nessa departs with lithesome prances, and the deer falter before her speed

I marvel at the flowers as they sway in the wind, which carries the shrill music of a nightingale's song

Vana waves farewell as we ride southeast towards the forests that to Orome belong

***

Hidden in the shadowy crags of the Pelóris we travel, with streams and foggy dew flowing from the mountainside,

The cultivating waters blanket the land, and towering above are the august redwood sentinels; we have arrived

Up atop a ridge downwind we gaze, as a doe rears her fawns,

Orome kills a spider of the Enemy, the elves and other Ainur will laugh when it's furs adorn his front lawn

Back around to the ground comes Arien blazing westwards, the sun's light twinkling through the decidious canopy,

The croaking oaks, the bumbling of bees, and the screams of cougars are such a wondrous cadency

The day is done, our adventure done, Nessa's run complete, I return to my home and family I so adore,

Where could I find such content besides the forests of Valinor?"

Thank you for sharing such poems. Have a good morning, day, afternoon, or night.





Not all treasure is silver and gold, mate.
— Captain Jack Sparrow