The Man She Loved to Hate Options

[Arnfinn]

Hi James and Daniel,

Daniel,

I opened up my punctuation book and tried for an improvement.
Thank you so much  for your time and excellent crit.


The Man She Loved to Hate (revision)


He sang songs of solitude,
(washed/sprinkled) tales of smooth debate; < can’t pick ?
he walked and talked with attitude.
the man she loved to hate.

Her lips he kissed precisely
behind life’s open gate
while sand fell through fingers:
weak castles built on slate.

Fond memories of enchantment
moved thoughts to copulate,
and join their hearts together
in truth to consecrate.

Her graceful face before him
in a crucible of fate.
Then daylight blurred the vision
of the man she loved to hate.

A sweet apple of temptation
outlined in golden plate;
bred skulking fragrant  cravings--
contrition-- suffered late.

His weak and foolish action
love feelings to mutate;
she sighed then left forever
the man she loved…
The man she loved…
The man she loved to hate.


>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>


The Man She Loved to Hate


He sang his songs of solitude,
waved tales of smooth debate.
He walked and talked with attitude.
The man she loved to hate.

Her lips, he kissed precisely,
behind life’s open gate.
While sand, wept through his fingers.
Wet castles built on slate.

Fond memories of enchantment,
moved thoughts to copulate
and join their hearts together,
in truth to consecrate.

Her graceful face before him
in a crucible of fate.
Then daylight blurred the vision,
of the man she loved to hate.

A sweet apple of temptation
outlined in golden plate.
Set flowered, subtle dewdrops,
contrition- suffered late.

His weak and foolish action;
loves- feelings to mutate.
She sighed, then left forever,
the man she loved…
The man she loved…
The man she loved to hate.


Arnfinn

[Guest_Cathy_*]

Lovely piece!  The rhythm feels pretty good, the rhyme is good.

Her lips, he kissed precisely,
behind life's open gate.
While sand, wept through his fingers.
Wet castles built on slate.

I have a problem with this stanza.  Do you need the comma after "kiss"?  The third line seems to be an incomplete sentence in my opinion.  

The next stanza is my favorite.  I like the way you chose to end the poem too.  It's almost like a song!

Cathy

[Guest_Don_*]

Hi Arnfinn,

Gotta say a few to get credit to add to R&M category.

Overall I like it.  The last stanza is good,  like choking on speaking the word hate.  

One picks up the pattern of each stanza to pause for impact of last line.

Key: [add], {delete}, (comment)

He sang {his} songs of solitude,
{waved} [told] tales of smooth debate.
He walked and {talked} [waved] with attitude.
The man she loved to hate.

Her lips, he kissed precisely,
behind life’s open gate.
While sand, wept through {his} fingers.
[A wet] {Wet} castle{s} built on slate.

Fond memories of enchantment,
moved thoughts to copulate
and join their hearts together,
in truth to consecrate.

Her graceful face before him
[as] in a crucible of fate.
Then daylight blurred the vision{,}(I think the line break is pause enough)
of the man she loved to hate.

A sweet apple of temptation
outlined in golden plate.
Set flower{ed}[s], subtle dewdrops, (I made the middle comma "and")also (Set flowers of subtle dewdrops,)
contrition- suffered late.

{His}[Their] weak and foolish action;
loves- feelings to mutate.
She sighed, then left forever,
the man she loved…(choking, unable to say full expression)
The man she loved…(I like the capital to begin new sentence which stress second attempt to say full expression)
The man she loved to hate.
(Three last lines of weak, stronger, final say) (I like it!)

Well done troubadour.

Don

[Guest_Nina_*]

Hi Arnfinn

an interesting tale.  I like the flow and rhythm.

He sang his songs of solitude,
waved tales of smooth debate.
He walked and talked with attitude.
The man she loved to hate

this is a great first verse.  I love he walked and talked with attitude.  My only suggestion is to replace waved with wove


Her lips, he kissed precisely,
behind life’s open gate.
While sand, wept through his fingers.
Wet castles built on slate.

Line 4 doesn't follow line 3 which as Cathy has already pointed out, is an incomplete sentence.

I enjoyed the read but felt at the end that I wasn't 100% sure why she hated him.  

A sweet apple of temptation
outlined in golden plate.
Set flowered, subtle dewdrops,
contrition- suffered late.

Does this verse mean he had an affair with someone else.  Sorry, I'm feeling a bit dense this evening.

Nina

[Arnfinn]

My dear friends, Don, Cathy and Nina thank you for the time you took to read and comment on my poem. Especially you Don, I adopted some of your ideas.


He sang his songs of solitude,
waved tales of smooth debate.

Don I’ll drop the ‘his’

Don and Nina, “waved” I chose because the voice travels in soundwaves. Well his were actually ripples (smooth debate)

He walked and talked with attitude.

You can imagine how he walked (the man she loved to hate) it may have been a swagger. But no- seeing he was a smooth talker, and remember when he kissed he kissed precisely. So the man she loved to hate was confident, handsome, debonair and moved with a determined step. So Cath and Nina, the man She loved to hate, was the most handsomest beautiful man you can imagine (use your minds-eye). Something like Don.  


The man she loved to hate.



Her lips, he kissed precisely,
behind life’s open gate.

Her Lips  (She’s in front of him) he kissed precisely. He is the aggressor, but it was not a haphazard kiss (s) a confident lip to lip kiss. How a kiss should be don’t you think?


While sand, wept through his fingers.
Wet castles built on slate.

Thanks again Don- obliged

While sand wept through fingers:
a castle built on slate.


The most beautiful words of love are being spoken. BUT! The lady knows something that he doesn’t know that she knows. So…this is where the title comes into the poem. She is desperately in love with him, but she knows he is having an affair. So she hates him for his insincerity. And here you have the two opposite emotions. Love and hate joined together


Fond memories of enchantment,


moved thoughts to copulate
and join their hearts together,
in truth to consecrate.


I like this stanza too Cathy

The poor lady  (loves consecrated, but he’s having a affair) The truth is , she cant help loving him but hates him for obvious reasons.


Her graceful face before him
in a crucible of fate.

You put your chemical (love) in a crucible on a tripod and you mix and heat them with a Bunsen burner. So he is looking at her like she’s in a crystal ball full of loves chemistry

Then daylight blurred the vision,
of the man she loved to hate.

Your correct again Don I’ll drop the comma


A sweet apple of temptation
outlined in golden plate.

He decides to go to visit the women he’s having an affair with.
A gold plated apple is not pure. Probably ‘mutton done up as lamb’

Set flowered, subtle dewdrops,
contrition- suffered late.

Yes you are correct Nina__This stanza is about the affair


His weak and foolish action;
loves- feelings to mutate.

No Don, your incorrect here, not (their action) His.
I suppose, it's a bit obtuse, she has heard through the grapevine that he is still having an affair.  Sooooooooooo. And I dont blame her.

She sighed, then left forever,
the man she loved…
The man she loved…
The man she loved to hate.

Thank you all


I will rewrite and post the new version.

[Cybele]

How's she goin' Arniiiiiiee me old cobber??,

Cor, a bodice rippin' romance from down under?

This sounds to my ear like a troubadour singing a madrigal (with modern idiom).

Poor woman sure got the rough end of the pineapple, didn't she? Ah, it was ever thus.

Having read all you explanations and crits here Arnie, I shall offer none.
 

It's great mate. Ya bloods worth bottling!    

[jgdittier]

Dear Arnfinn,
As I read "The Man She Loved to Hate", I began to think "there's something special about this poem". What was special was the use of one rhyme sound throughout. Often that ploy results in outrageous rhymes that might be great for humor but detract if the piece is more serious.
I came late to the party and hence was treated to the great input you've gotten and your explanation of your writing thoughts. THus your poem is now a delight.
Cheers,    jgd

[Arnfinn]

Ah, dear Grace,


I'm forever indebted to you cobber.

Your always there when I need a friend to help me when I pen a few lines. Grace ya a mighty good shiela.  :wizard: I spose I shouldn't be whippin the cat, but why not? Arn't we all striv n' help each other at MM. ya  agooden cob.

Bodice rippin...Nah, this cove was a sandwich short of a picnic, he did, he loved this sweet young lady. But! Here's where your correct Grace. The other shiela (the affair shiela) would knock on his door at 2:am and say politely "I'm here, do ya mind if ya rip my bodice, so we can make torrid love?" So, who do we blame in this mess? 1 The affair shiella, who fancied him also, but used sexual persuasion. or 2 The bloke who couldn't keep his mits off her. Me, I blame the bloke, he was smart, very handsome, articulate and had a beautiful girlfriend.

There's a moral in this poem.  

Then again, ya have ta think again, how many blokes have a fling before they tie the knot?  :troy:  :troy:

Buttttttttttttttttttttttttt!

What the silly Ex didn't know, was that his truelove, kneeeeeeeeeeew he was having some romantic interludes(very romantic) with this other hussy. Y a know what the grapvine between shiela's is like in a small village.  :borg:


 :medusa:  :medusa:  :medusa:  :medusa:  :medusa:

Madrigal? I being a colonial, didn't recognise the word. Hmmm...Madrigal, I looked it up in the Big O. i AGREE  But I dissagree about " without instrumental accompaniment"

I AGREE about the sweet young thing getting the SEOTP. She would have made a wonderful wife and they would have had a grand, terrific life together. They would have lived to a good age (92 years each) and died in each others arms in a dual rocking chair.
 :hsdance:

So my good friend, I'M glad you are in fine spirits.

Your mate from DU,

yOURS In schoonership  :wave:


Arniiiie  :troy:  :troy:  :troy:  :wizard:

[Arnfinn]

Ha, my friend Ron, the seeker of the truth: in what poetry should be and still is not!

What do you think of that intro Ronnie, something out of Milton's 'King Lear'

Mate your too kind. Your like a rookie policeman, your on the beat. I'm not going to argue with you, because I know I wouldn't win. Poetry was probably your thesis at Uni. Poetry went through stages. Centuries ago, there weren't any Jumbo jets, Skyscrapers, atom bombs, tv's, motor cars and so on. Poets would walk into a valley and see a shingle roofed house with smoke coming out of the chimney surrounded by beech trees and birds and animals. I wonder If poets would write about "Long Vacation Pastoral" in hexameters about a students reading party these days.

Mate, I get great enjoyment out of your comments about my poetry. I think your  dedication to the purity in poetry and to keeping the poetic values alive is a great idea.


Regards my friend,


Arnie

[Cybele]

G'Day Arn, (with corks on)

Strewth mate, what a bonzer explanation for a shiela with a few roos loose in the top paddock.  

No wonder she threw a wobbly.  

But if this bludger was so smart Arn, how comes he got caught?

Then again, ya have ta think again, how many blokes have a fling before they tie the knot?      

Answer: I think that roughly equates to the number of shielas who have flings before they tie the knot. Stands to reason dunnit cobber?

(Stands used in a grammatical manner 'ere Arniie! )

[Arnfinn]

Strewth Grace!


I didn't know you sheilas got up to those capers.

Whats grandma got to do with this Grace?  :wizard:

Think I better come clean SHEILA is spelt SHEILA...talk about blind

hey I like those little critters.

 :mouse:  :mouse:  :mouse:  :mouse:  :mouse:  :mouse:  :mouse:  :mouse:


Anyway I'm posted a resumed selection of my poem, Don gave a few points.



The Man She Loved to Hate


He sang songs of solitude,
waved tales of smooth debate.
He walked and talked with attitude.
The man she loved to hate.

Her lips he kissed precisely,
behind life’s open gate.
While sand wept through fingers:
a wet castle built on slate.

Fond memories of enchantment,
moved thoughts to copulate
and join their hearts together,
in truth to consecrate.

Her graceful face before him
in a crucible of fate.
Then daylight blurred the vision,
of the man she loved to hate.

A sweet apple of temptation
outlined in golden plate.
Sent scented subtle dewdrops,
contrition- suffered late.

His weak and foolish action;
loves- feelings to mutate.
She sighed, then left forever,
the man she loved…
The man she loved…
The man she loved to hate.
[b]


Ya know I reckin she might have finished up with a bit of ye olde parko's in the last stanza. These are real people Grace, they live and breathe in me n'magination, thats why I'm getting sick and tired of this sheila, she's a born looser.

Anyway that it.


Arnie  :troy:  :troy:  :troy:  :wizard:

[Cybele]

Hi Arniieeeee  

Great revision mate.

Strewth Grace!
I didn't know you sheilas got up to those capers.

If the sheilas didn't Arnie ~ how could the blokes?  :detective:

Ya know I reckin she might have finished up with a bit of ye olde parko's in the last stanza. These are real people Grace, they live and breathe in me n'magination, thats why I'm getting sick and tired of this sheila, she's a born looser.


Ye olde parkos Arn? Didn't know she was crook mate.

Yeh, I meant 'sheila' cobber, but me digit's went walkabout on me.

On the subject of typos Arn, was she really a looser?  I thought she was a good gal?  

If these cobbers are real an' livin' and breathing in yer mind Arnie, I suggest you give 'em the big heave hoe and let 'em go squatting in someone elses noddle. How can a bloke be expected to work with all that jiggery-pokery (freudian slip there Arnie) goin' on.

Shootin through now cobber.

[Guest_Don_*]

Hey Arn~~

I didn't read any loosers in your verse.  People are people and shine loses luster seen up close.  

Why isn't a diamond as big as its sparkle?

Is the stone cutter to blame, or perception of the buyer?

Don

[Arnfinn]

Ha! Grace,

I worked out why she was born to be looser? She was gone in the noddle.   :termie:  :galadriel:


go squatting in someone elses noddle.

Gracie we are both pathetic blunderers.java script:emoticon(':dance:')


java script:emoticon(':troy:')

How are you going Don?

Mate, your sittin on top of a mountain in your y-fronts lookin into a crystal ball. Ya correct    :dance: nooooooo...loosers.

A moot point Donny about a diamonds sparkle. My minds eye is adjudicating the many faceted points you have brought to my attention. I seem to be between a rock and a hard place.  :dance: HeeeeeeeeeeeHA.

Anyway mate, I want thank you for taking the time and interest with my posted poem.  :troy:  :troy:  :troy:  :troy:  :knight:  :wizard:

[Guest_Perrorist_*]

What's with all this 'strewth' and 'cobber' stuff? Sounds like Bazza MacKenzie. I've lived in Oz for nearly 30 years and never heard these expressions.

Anyway, I want to add my my two cents to the discussion about the poem.

Someone has suggested that in the first stanza it should be 'wove' not 'waved'. I agree. I would also change 'walked and talked' to walked and spoke' to avoid the hackneyed phrase.

In the line 'Her lips, he kissed precisely,' I would remove the comma after 'lips'.

Some of the remaining lines didn't quite work for me but I suspect that was because of my inability to comprehend their subtlety.

Nevertheless, I enjoyed it. I could imagine a balladeer singing it in a king's court.

Perry

[Arnfinn]

Hi Perry,


'What's with all this 'strewth' and 'cobber' stuff? Sounds like Bazza MacKenzie. I've lived in Oz for nearly 30 years and never heard these expressions.'

Your correct Perry, does sound a bit like Bazza. As far as the word strewth is concerned, you wont find it in any dictionary it has it's origins in [God's truth]. G. A. Wilkes the past Challis Professor of English Literature at the University of Sydney and Foundation Professor of Australian Literature doesn't even mention the word 'strewth' in his Sydney University Press book titled 'A Dictionary Of AUSTRALIAN colloquialisms (first published 1978) which I have a copy. I had an uncle Bob who in a phrase of about a dozen words words, would probably use 'God's   strewth' a couple of times. The word 'cobber' friend, mate, (obsolescent). First appeared in the 'Sydney Bulletin' in 1895 with references up until 1985. I started Kindergarten in 1943 and through my schooling 'strewth' was a common word, probably because it wasn't an offensive word for children.As far as 'cobber' is concerned it was probably used more as a term of endearment than an a buddy-pally thing. I agree with you, that with an influx of many cultures arriving in Australia, things have changed. To me, the old Australian colloquialisms accentuates a sense of humour. If I have offended you I apologise.

To be honest, I originally had 'wove' but discarded the word because it was too 'cliche'  and overused. 'Wave' as in soundwaves.

'waved tales of smooth debate.'

Ok it's different, but it's original.


'In the line 'Her lips, he kissed precisely,' I would remove the comma after 'lips'. '


I didn't repost the revised poem with the original, I posted the revised version five posts back. My fault I s'pose I should have put the new version at the start of the thread.

The comma has been removed.

I'm pleased to have drop in to see me Perry. I like a people who are open with their comments.

Thank you my friend.


Arnie


 :troy:  :troy:

[Guest_Don_*]

I also wondered why you did not post updated revision in original tile, but the milk was spilt, so why cry?

As to the Aussy jargon, I thank you for expanding how official it really is.  I wrote it off as slang, and chose to remain ignorant.  

The number of responses to this thread must be among the highest.  Congratulations.

Don

[Guest_Perrorist_*]

Arnie

I've just remembered I never responded to your last post. I wasn't offended by the 'strewth' stuff, just expressing my surprise at expressions I consider similar to 'begorrah' in stage Irish.

I like Australian colloquialisms and occasionally use them in my novel.

Perry

[Guest_Jox_*]

Hi Arn,

I came to this poem originally and felt I didn't understand which way it went. I've been back twice since and watched the crits developing. THis mmorning I returned thinking I'd crit the revision but as you've not undertaken that yet I'll await its posting - no point in piling-on confusing crits to the sky. I won't read your other crits again in case you do want more suggestions; I'll just read the revision afresh and go for that. Please would you prod me if you do post a revision and would like a re-crit?

I have to say this work is very level-headed. The last verse is brilliant. The whole has, as Perry indicated I seem to remember, an old-fashioned lyrical qualityto it. Much enjoyable; thanks.

Good luck with the revision and well done with the original.

Cheers, Arn.

James.

[JustDaniel]

Hey, Arnie... it's super to read you.  I did not get lost in your poem, but I did in your exchanges in vernacular.  I joy in the playful responses that several of you share with each other withe such zest... but do want you to know that this reader (along with the joy) feels a bit the outsider... so I will simply offer my praise in standard English and go back an sit in my corner.

I too felt this as the song of a traveling entertainer... something to be sung rather than read... thus alowing a bit of freedom with the meter.  Even with this, however, I stumbled in (merely) a couple of places, and because it seems to sing, perhaps I have a substitute (from your discussion words that gave me the realization that you were not talking about but ocean waves. [That thought hadn't occurred to me till the discussion.]

Anyhow, to utilize or toss into the deep or into the wind, I offer a couple of suggestions:

The Man She Loved to Hate

He sang his songs of solitude,
(waved) rippled tales of smooth debate.
He walked and talked with attitude.  [ Why the period? ]
The man she loved to hate. [ Not a sentence.  Wouldn't it better be connected with the previous line? ]

Her lips, he kissed precisely,
behind life’s open gate.
While sand, wept through his fingers.
Wet castles built on slate.
[ Like observatoin of the previous three lines, questioning your punctuation ]

Fond memories of enchantment(,)
moved thoughts to copulate
and join their hearts together(,)
in truth to consecrate.
[ No need for either comma ? ]

Her graceful face before him
in a crucible of fate.[..]
then daylight blurred the vision(,)
of the man she loved to hate.

(A) Sweet apple of temptation
outlined in golden plate.
Set flowered, subtle dewdrops,
contrition- suffered late.
[ not sure I understand this stanza's intent well enough to offer suggestions for what seem to be punctuation trip-wires ? ]

His weak and foolish action;
loves- feelings to mutate. [ Punctuation again... and wondering about loves plural ]
She sighed, then left forever(,)
the man she loved…
The man she loved…
The man she loved to hate.Arnfinn

Excellent poem... and I LOVED the feel of the ending!
deLightingly, Daniel