Yet Unwritten ~ Revised 6/17/07, Rhyme and iambic meter Options

[Guest_Cathy_*]

Thanks Liz, Sue, Eric, Lori and Don!



Yet Unwritten ~ Revision 3

A cache conceals the poignant words,
ambivalence is combat-sore;
when caught within twilit regimes
so sadly out-of-step that dreams
still bleed accusatory threat.

A battery of loyal thoughts
and motley web of frenzied fears
combine upon our battlefields
to armament (their lives a shield)
reprisal games of grave roulette.

Though loved ones march the searing sands,
avidity cannot be scorched.
Red, white and blue bestows them pride
which they would never think to hide;
but they don't see the silhouette

of darkness leeching helpless souls,
the dye of hope from blood once spilled.
Will sons and daughters soon return
to cherish freedoms they have earned?

Their shadowed myths aren't written yet.

Cathy Bollhoefer
copyright May 30, 07




Yet Unwritten ~ Revision 2

A cache conceals the poignant words,
ambivalence is combat-frayed;
when caught within twilit regimes
so sadly out-of-step that dreams
still bleed accusatory threat.

A battery of inane thoughts
and motley web of insane fears
combine upon the battlefield
in armament (their lives to shield)
creating games of grave roulette.

Though loved ones march o'er searing sands,
avidity cannot be scorched.
Red, white and blue bestowing pride
which they would never think to hide;
but they don't see the silhouette

of darkness stealing 'round the grounds
stained black from those whose blood first spilled.
Will sons and daughters ever speak
of freedom's right... that which they seek.

Those shadowed myths aren't written yet.

Cathy Bollhoefer
copyright May 30, 07




Yet Unwritten ~ Revision 1

A cache conceals the poignant words,
ambivalence is combat-frayed;
when caught within twilit regimes
so sadly out-of-step that dreams
still bleed accusatory threat.

A battery of inane thoughts
and motley web of insane fears
combine upon the battlefield
in armament, their lives to shield,
creating games of grave roulette.

Though loved ones march o'er searing sand,
avidity cannot be scorched.
Red, white and blue bestowing pride
which they would never think to hide;
but they don't see the silhouette

of darkness stealing 'round the grounds
stained black from those whose blood first spilled.
Will sons return to loving arms,
with dignity and faith unharmed?

Their shadowed myths... unwritten yet.

Cathy Bollhoefer
copyright May 30, 07




Yet Unwritten ~ Original

A cache conceals the poignant words,
ambivalence is combat-frayed;
when caught within twilit regimes
so sadly out-of-step that dreams
still bleed accusatory threat.

A battery of inane thoughts
and motley web of insane fears
combine upon the battlefield
in armament, their lives to shield,
while playing games of grave roulette.

More loved ones will be marching soon,
enthusiasm soaring high.
Red, white and blue bestowing pride
that they would never think to hide;
but they don't see the silhouette

of darkness stealing 'round the grounds
stained crimson from the blood that's spilled.
Will they return to earthly home
or will lost spirits heaven roam?

Their story hasn't ended yet...

Cathy Bollhoefer
copyright May 30, 07

[AMETHYST]

Hi Cathy ...

Before I get into the juice, nuts and bolts on this poem...Have you heard from your son? ... and have you yet gotten the address to send him things? ... I was thinking about him, and you during our APCO/NENA Conference. I learned a lot of things I wasn't aware of and when you speak to your son, tell him for me that "He is in my prayers along with other young men I know that are fighting to protect us, and that, there is much more that these young men are doing for us that we hopefully will never really come to learn... For our children, we are grateful for their bravery!

Now, off to this wonderful and most powerful poem.

The title is exquisite. I found myself thinking or believing that 'Yet unwritten' isn't just a declaration of the outcome of this time in his/their lives, but more so the expectation of letters not yet written or more so, not yet received. I could be wrong, but this is how, as I read it made me feel. I liked that duality as well.

You've utilized some very crucuial words that really define such details as with the use of 'ambivalence' really stands out here, in both meaning and the message underlying the poems intent. That love/hate ... good/bad ... feeling two opposite feelings about the same situation. Such as bravery/fear.

I hope if I cannot offer anything to improve this already powerful poem, at least I can show all the strong techniques and devices that are working through out.

Big Hugs, Liz

Yet Unwritten

A cache conceals the poignant words,
ambivalence is combat-frayed;
when caught within twilit regimes
so sadly out-of-step that dreams
still bleed accusatory threat.


Great starting image in L1, the use of cache/poignant words' had given my the initial idea that these are more not yet received rather than not yet written. Perhaps thoughts, fears and experiences jotted down and not yet put into a legiable format, hidden away. L3/L4 wonderfully fresh end rhyme. Smooth that it just swims off the tongue. Not a nit here...

A battery of inane thoughts
and motley web of insane fears
combine upon the battlefield
in armament, their lives to shield,
while playing games of grave roulette.

Again good word choices that cling to the theme and metaphors. L1, the word battery is one of many of those word choices. I loved the inner rhyme of inane/insane.
no nits here ...

More loved ones will be marching soon,
enthusiasm soaring high.
Red, white and blue bestowing pride
that they would never think to hide;
but they don't see the silhouette

L4, perhaps which they would never think to hide;

of darkness stealing 'round the grounds
stained crimson from the blood that's spilled.
Will they return to earthly home
or will lost spirits heaven roam?

Their story hasn't ended yet...

Excellent ending stanza. The final line felt a little weak. I have a dozen of suggestions going through my mind but none that hold to the intent you offer and none that hold to the meter and line length. So I will be thinking on just what makes it feel weak to me. I think because it feels rhyme driven. It might just be me and my tired eyes! LOL

Big hugs, Liz