Unpardoned Options

[Arnfinn]

Unpardoned

He sways beside me, tattered brown fingers clawing, slapping and shaking—
a cruciform figure in dark shadows.
He stops… sighs… then turns— hooked thorns suckle strained sinews.
‘ Here accept the sword of absit omen, you must venture on—
go slay your demons.’

A standstill.
Tall gray torsos, stout roots underneath.
Old growth, defused light, black nefarious impediments.
The girth of lost days.
Each sword stoke— a hollow ring…no echo…no echoes.
Enough—we must return to the sunlight.





John Macleod copyright Ó 18th March 2006

[Guest_Nina_*]

Hi John

An intriguing poem though I feel I'm missing something as I've no idea what the story is behind it.

A few suggestions, take or leave as you wish.

[add] {delete} comment // (line break)

I'd suggest a few more line breaks (but that's just me)

He sways beside me,// tattered brown fingers //clawing, slapping and shaking— ...good alliteration
a cruciform figure in dark shadows.
He stops… sighs… {then} turns— //hooked thorns suckle strained sinews. ..again excellent alliteration
‘ {Here} {a}[A]ccept the sword of absit omen, //you must venture on—
go slay your demons.’

A standstill.
Tall gray torsos, //stout roots underneath.
Old growth, //defused light,// black nefarious impediments. ..I love the word nefarious
The girth of lost days.//
Each sword stoke— //a hollow ring…{no echo…}//no echoes.
Enough—//we must return to the sunlight. ..should this be in speech marks?

Thus:

He sways beside me,
tattered brown fingers
clawing, slapping and shaking—
a cruciform figure in dark shadows.
He stops… sighs… turns—
hooked thorns suckle strained sinews.
‘Accept the sword of absit omen,
you must venture on—
go slay your demons.’

A standstill.
Tall gray torsos,
stout roots underneath.
Old growth,
defused light,
black nefarious impediments.
The girth of lost days.

Each sword stoke—
a hollow ring…
no echoes.
'Enough—
we must return to the sunlight.'

Nina

[Arnfinn]

Hi John

An intriguing poem though I feel I'm missing something as I've no idea what the story is behind it.

A few suggestions, take or leave as you wish.

[add] {delete} comment // (line break)

I'd suggest a few more line breaks (but that's just me)

He sways beside me,// tattered brown fingers //clawing, slapping and shaking— ...good alliteration

Thank you

a cruciform figure in dark shadows.

He stops… sighs… {then} turns— //hooked thorns suckle strained sinews. ..again excellent alliteration

Thank you again, Nina

‘ {Here} {a}[A]ccept the sword of absit omen, //you must venture on—
go slay your demons.’

Hmmm... chop, 'Here' yes, unecessary.


A standstill.
Tall gray torsos, //stout roots underneath.
Old growth, //defused light,// black nefarious impediments. ..I love the word nefarious
The girth of lost days.//
Each sword stoke— //a hollow ring…{no echo…}//no echoes.

I had 'no echoes', then for some reason i decided to implant a singular infinitive?

Enough—//we must return to the sunlight. ..should this be in speech marks?

In the context of the meaning of the poem, no, unless I was talking to myself.

Thus:

He sways beside me,
tattered brown fingers
clawing, slapping and shaking—
a cruciform figure in dark shadows.
He stops… sighs… turns—
hooked thorns suckle strained sinews.
‘Accept the sword of absit omen,
you must venture on—
go slay your demons.’

A standstill.
Tall gray torsos,
stout roots underneath.
Old growth,
defused light,
black nefarious impediments.
The girth of lost days.

Each sword stoke—
a hollow ring…
no echoes.
'Enough—
we must return to the sunlight.'

Nina

The order of the lines is more attractive, but appears a little choppy, especially the first stanza.


Thank you for the help Nina, your ideas will come in handy in my revision.


The poem is about old age and contrition, in a split personality sense, the other person in the first stanza is my conscience. As I grow old, now and again, I find bad mistakes and stupid things that may have occured as long as forty years ago drift up from my sub-conscience and settle in my mind. I wrestle with the situation, go slay these fears- absit omen may my fears not be verified. The second stanza 'At a stanstill- retrace and visit memories and try to destroy that part within me causing me remorse for my actions. It's all to late though, stout rooted guilt has permanently settled into being I must moove back to the sunlight of normality.

There ya go Nina, I thought you would have been a wake-up to me uncomplicated poem. The title was a big clue.


John

[Cybele]

G'day cobber,

Strewth mate! I bin goin' round in circles trying ter figure it out!

Now you've explained it to Nina it's blindingly obvious innit?

Mind if I suggest that you change the first line to help all the bemused,(like me) ter figure her out Arn?)

He sways beside me, tattered brown fingers clawing, slapping and shaking

Conscience sways beside me, tattered brown fingers clawing, slapping and shaking—



A standstill. An impasse?

Tall gray torsos, stout roots underneath.
Old growth, defused light, black nefarious impediments.

Diffused light Arn? Love the last three words!!

The girth of lost days.

Each sword stoke— a hollow ring…no echo…no echoes.

sword stroke?


Yeah, quite true blue. Few cliches here for yer..

No goin' back is there?
All water under the bridge.
All part of life rich tapestry.
No use cryin' over spilt milk etc. etc.

Sun's out here mate. Off walkabaout. Catch you later cobber.

[Arnfinn]

G'day cobber,

Strewth mate! I bin goin' round in circles trying ter figure it out!

Now you've explained it to Nina it's blindingly obvious innit?

Mind if I suggest that you change the first line to help all the bemused,(like me) ter figure her out Arn?)

He sways beside me, tattered brown fingers clawing, slapping and shaking

Conscience sways beside me, tattered brown fingers clawing, slapping and shaking—



A standstill. An impasse?

Tall gray torsos, stout roots underneath.
Old growth, defused light, black nefarious impediments.

Diffused light Arn? Love the last three words!!

The girth of lost days.

Each sword stoke— a hollow ring…no echo…no echoes.

sword stroke?


Yeah, quite true blue. Few cliches here for yer..

No goin' back is there?
All water under the bridge.
All part of life rich tapestry.
No use cryin' over spilt milk etc. etc.

Sun's out here mate. Off walkabaout. Catch you later cobber.

Ya on the ball Cobah,

Don't pussyfoot around (sorry Lil) Spill ya guts out, dont disguise me old conscience, put the bugger in me poem Bring everything and I mean everything into the open. Me not-so-old pommie belle ya got ta belch out the boeotian. Put ya cards on the table
Nah, I'm not acrying into me Fosters, but this does happen...I get these recriminations, I wish I had done things so much better. Ya Know what I mean Grace, ya doo things when ya young that ya never can undo. A sorta outing of the badness

He that lives by thunder
has committed a blunder
He that life's a rainbow
Is canonized in apropos.

The moral to me poem is: as ya travel the highways and byways of life, don't be bad or ya end up in strife.

By the way ya made a lot of sensible changes and I'm going to use some in my revision.


Gooooooooooooooooooooooooooood on ya PAAAAAAAAAAAAL.


YMBP...FFFFFFFFFFFFom DU.





jOHN

[Cybele]

Me again Arn!

Don't pussyfoot around (sorry Lil) Spill ya guts out,

Yeah, sorry Lil, I don’t think he wants you ter spill yer guts out.

dont disguise me old conscience, put the bugger in me poem

Quite right Arniiiiiie. If yer feel like gettin’ it all off yer chest, spillin’ the beans about all yer wicked ways (er youthful misdemeanours.)

Bring everything and I mean everything into the open.

Now don’t go overboard there cobber!!

Me not-so-old pommie belle ya got ta belch out the boeotian.

Not so old pommie belle? Strewth what a silver tongued devil yer are Arn. Thought that was a compliment till I had to google boeotioan and learned it was an ANCIENT Greek civilization. Now I think yer 'avin' a bar of me, Arniiiiie.

Nah, I'm not acrying into me Fosters, but this does happen...I get these recriminations, I wish I had done things so much better. Ya Know what I mean Grace, ya doo things when ya young that ya never can undo. A sorta outing of the badness.

Oh I know what yer mean Arn. It was me recriminations that stopped me signing up for the convent.

He that lives by thunder
has committed a blunder
He that life's a rainbow He that lives a rainbow Arn?
Is canonized in apropos.

Rainbow, apropos ~ very natty rhymin' there cobber.

The moral to me poem is: as ya travel the highways and byways of life, don't be bad or ya end up in strife.

Nice little homily. That your family crest there Arn?

Here's mine


He that repents his evils deeds,
by later countin' his prayer beads
will be forgiven,~ or more precise,
will earn a place in Paradise

By the way ya made a lot of sensible changes and I'm going to use some in my revision

Aw shucks Arn. I'm trooly honoured to be of help.

[Arnfinn]

Me again Arn!
Yeah, sorry Lil, I don’t think he wants you ter spill yer guts out.



Quite right Arniiiiiie. If yer feel like gettin’ it all off yer chest, spillin’ the beans about all yer wicked ways (er youthful misdemeanours.)



Now don’t go overboard there cobber!!
Not so old pommie belle? Strewth what a silver tongued devil yer are Arn. Thought that was a compliment till I had to google boeotioan and learned it was an ANCIENT Greek civilization. Now I think yer 'avin' a bar of me, Arniiiiie.

Oh I know what yer mean Arn. It was me recriminations that stopped me signing up for the convent.



Nice little homily. That your family crest there Arn?

Here's mine
He that repents his evils deeds,
by later countin' his prayer beads
will be forgiven,~ or more precise,
will earn a place in Paradise



Aw shucks Arn. I'm trooly honoured to be of help.

Hey Grace ya getting into this stuff. HEE hee HAA haa ...YEEEEEEEEEEEHaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. Ya pretty witty Le pommie belle I externalise the advice. Hey your poems better than mine. Yeah, me prayer beads looks sumthin like a machine gun belt of bullets, cept replace the bullets with full cans o' beer (Coopers).

Nah, the 'boeotian' has a bodacious, meaning of belching out the dull stuff I better not go any further into this or I'll be writing anotheree of poem called the 'Boeotian Unpardoned'.

Anyway, Grace I'm really elated that you can find an understanding in the concept of outpourings.
We must find the truth...No dare say I- truth must be the epitome of truthfulness, we must bombard the parliaments of all the countries in the Universe...Hold up those placards...women use the darkest shade of lipstick... men- the darkest shade of eyeshadow (Titian Blue is nice) and descend on all the parliament of the World-with one single word TRUTH TRUTH if I had done this in my tender years, when I was a three letter word 'Arn' I wouldn't be in the sorry state I am today. There would have been no 'Unpardoned' maybe the title could have been 'The Canonisation' of something similar.

Once again dear friend I appreciate the support and help you have given me amongst these times of perpetual despondence.

Your a gooden Grace, I don't know what I'd do without ya friendship.

YPFDU,

jOHN

[Cybele]

Watcha Arniiiiieee

Hey Grace ya getting into this stuff. HEE hee HAA haa ...YEEEEEEEEEEEHaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.

Yeah, well it’s yer charmin’ nature Arn. It’s infectious. (Hope I can’t catch it through me monitor! )

Yeah, me prayer beads looks sumthin like a machine gun belt of bullets, cept replace the bullets with full cans o' beer (Coopers).

Strewth mate, that must bow yer legs as yer stroll about down under then?

Bodacious, now that’s a great word Arn. Might use that sometime in a pome if yer don’t mind givin’ me a lend of it?

It’s a pleasure ter read yer Arn. I’m always seekin’ that higher plain of wisdom.

We must find the truth...No dare say I- truth must be the epitome of truthfulness, we must bombard the parliaments of all the countries in the Universe...Hold up those placards.

Which, these ones Arnie?

Crikey, Are you becoming a rabble-rouser?

women use the darkest shade of lipstick...

Midnight Orchid I think.

men- the darkest shade of eyeshadow (Titian Blue is nice)

Titian Blue??? Titian Blue, Blue? I bin’ labourin’ under the misapprehension that he invented a RED! No wonder me sunsets always look like moons in me drawins.

and descend on all the parliament of the World-with one single word TRUTH TRUTH


Er, I count two words there John.

If I had done this in my tender years, when I was a three letter word 'Arn' I wouldn't be in the sorry state I am today.

Cor, I thought you was in New South Wales. Don’t let them hear you callin’ it a sorry state mate, or they’ll hunt yer down, like a mad dog – or Ned Kelly.

There would have been no 'Unpardoned' maybe the title could have been 'The Canonisation' of something similar.

Glad you weren’t then Arnie, or I wouldn’t be sat sittin’ here wearing me fingers to the bone on a keyboard, exchanging intellectual niceties and scintillatin' ideas with yer, would I?


Once again dear friend I appreciate the support and help you have given me amongst these times of perpetual despondence.

Can't bear ter think of yer in a Slough o' Despond John!
So think nothin’ of it mate. I know yer’d do the same fer me.

Your a gooden Grace, I don't know what I'd do without ya friendship.

Ditto, twice removed John. Anyway can't sit here enjoying meself any longer. Gotta get out in the garden - and sit in the sun!

Adios Amigo. Hi ho Silver ~ and away!!!! ( ) Ya have to use yer imagination John. There's no horsey emoticon lurking anywhere.

[Psyche]

Hi John !

Having trouble with yer conscience, HAHA.. sorry 'bout that. Course, I didn't understand a thing till I read your explanation to Nina. I have an excuse, tho', it's that I'm under the influence of....NO, NOT WHAT YOU THINK, i've got the damn 'flu, that's the excuse for my un-brightness today....

The girth of lost days.

I really like this bit, not sure why, but it's a superb way of expressing the lifeline of your poem. Extremely original, John, wish I'd said that !

I haven't read everybody's comments coz of my brain fog today. I just like the way you've dealt with that horrid bogey-man inside all of us. Nay, I correct that, there seem to be plenty of people around with no conscience at all. Glad u have one, Arnie !!
But don't let it keep you awake. One hasn't lived if one hasn't erred, I think somebody said, or did I just come up with this bit of wisdom?

Thanks for a good poem, as usual,
Cheers, Sylvia

[Cleo_Serapis]

Hi John.

An interesting tale of old!

I've only noted a change in your stanza structure (very much in line with Nina) and a couple of word deletions in { }.

Enjoyed this one! Glad to see you back!
~Cleo

He sways beside me,
tattered brown fingers clawing,
slapping and shaking—
a cruciform figure in dark shadows. (Nice creepy opening)

He stops… sighs… then turns—
hooked thorns suckle strained sinews. (excellent word choices)
‘ Here accept the sword of absit omen,
you must venture on—
go slay your demons.’

A standstill.

Tall gray torsos, stout roots underneath.
Old growth,
defused light,
black nefarious impediments.
The girth of lost days.

Each sword stoke—
a hollow ring…{no echo…}no echoes.

Enough—
we must return to {the} sunlight.

[Arnfinn]

Watcha Arniiiiieee

Hey Grace ya getting into this stuff. HEE hee HAA haa ...YEEEEEEEEEEEHaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.

Yeah, well it’s yer charmin’ nature Arn. It’s infectious. (Hope I can’t catch it through me monitor! )huh.gif

Yeah, some of me so called friends are like this Grace they avoid me like the plague.

Yeah, me prayer beads looks sumthin like a machine gun belt of bullets, cept replace the bullets with full cans o' beer (Coopers).

Strewth mate, that must bow yer legs as yer stroll about down under then?

Yes Grace, it's a trail of plastic beer holders, I call it me frothy security blanket.

Bodacious, now that’s a great word Arn. Might use that sometime in a pome if yer don’t mind givin’ me a lend of it? Idea.gif

Nah, a real word the ol' Bodacious, it's a cross between somthin...can't think of the first word and audacious.

It’s a pleasure ter read yer Arn. I’m always seekin’ that higher plain of wisdom.

We must find the truth...No dare say I- truth must be the epitome of truthfulness, we must bombard the parliaments of all the countries in the Universe...Hold up those placards.

Which, these ones Arnie? bump.gif thanks.gif goodjob.gif LOL.gif nicerev.gif

Crikey, Are you becoming a rabble-rouser?

Listen Grace, we all have right to protest... n' we're lucky, cause in some countries if ya protst your a dead duck.

women use the darkest shade of lipstick...

Midnight Orchid I think.

men- the darkest shade of eyeshadow (Titian Blue is nice)

Titian Blue??? Titian Blue, Blue? I bin’ labourin’ under the misapprehension that he invented a RED! No wonder me sunsets always look like moons in me drawins. dunce.gif

All Aussie redheads are called ' Blue' or Bluey.

and descend on all the parliament of the World-with one single word TRUTH TRUTH


Er, I count two words there John. Speechless.gif

If I had done this in my tender years, when I was a three letter word 'Arn' I wouldn't be in the sorry state I am today.

Cor, I thought you was in New South Wales. Don’t let them hear you callin’ it a sorry state mate, or they’ll hunt yer down, like a mad dog – or Ned Kelly.

The SORRY STATE, the state of sorriness when ya sorry about doing stuff ya sorry about. I Sorry I brought it up about being sorry... you must accept me apology, for I was a fool... I was a fool in love...Oh, Oh... O', yes...

There would have been no 'Unpardoned' maybe the title could have been 'The Canonisation' of something similar.

Glad you weren’t then Arnie, or I wouldn’t be sat sittin’ here wearing me fingers to the bone on a keyboard, exchanging intellectual niceties and scintillatin' ideas with yer, would I?


Your very perceptive Grace.

Once again dear friend I appreciate the support and help you have given me amongst these times of perpetual despondence.

Can't bear ter think of yer in a Slough o' Despond John! Sad2.gif
So think nothin’ of it mate. I know yer’d do the same fer me. hsdance.gif

QUOTE
Your a gooden Grace, I don't know what I'd do without ya friendship.


Ditto, twice removed John. Anyway can't sit here enjoying meself any longer. Gotta get out in the garden - and sit in the sun! rofl.gif

Go the faiiiiiiiiiiiiiir one and meander mongst Marigolds or ponder over ye Pansies and Petunia's.

Adios Amigo. Hi ho Silver ~ and away!!!! (turtle.gif ) Ya have to use yer imagination John. There's no horsey emoticon lurking anywhere. oops.gif

Got ta go meself....

John
Arnfinn Posted Jun 6 06, 12:42

[Cybele]

men- the darkest shade of eyeshadow (Titian Blue is nice)

Titian Blue??? Titian Blue, Blue? I bin’ labourin’ under the misapprehension that he invented a RED! No wonder me sunsets always look like moons in me drawins.

All Aussie redheads are called ' Blue' or Bluey.

aAAARRRRGGGGHHH! Ya got me there cobber. I forgot that! Bonzer reply mate!

[Arnfinn]

Hi Sylvia,

Hi John ! oops.gif

Having trouble with yer conscience, HAHA.. sorry 'bout that. Course, I didn't understand a thing till I read your explanation to Nina. I have an excuse, tho', it's that I'm under the influence of....NO, NOT WHAT YOU THINK, i've got the damn 'flu, that's the excuse for my un-brightness today.... comedy.gif

Yeah, well there's nothing too drastic. I suppose the point I'm trying to make is, that after a period of time, the big mistakes we make during our lives can never be undone.


The girth of lost days.

I really like this bit, not sure why, but it's a superb way of expressing the lifeline of your poem. Extremely original, John, wish I'd said that !

Thanks Sylv, I get a kick, when someone lets me know they find something interesting in me dabblings.

I haven't read everybody's comments coz of my brain fog today. I just like the way you've dealt with that horrid bogey-man inside all of us. Nay, I correct that, there seem to be plenty of people around with no conscience at all. Glad u have one, Arnie !! rainbow.gif
But don't let it keep you awake. One hasn't lived if one hasn't erred, I think somebody said, or did I just come up with this bit of wisdom? grinning.gif

Yer on the right track Sylv, we'd have to chained to a wall during our lives to do nothing that was sinful, but if that was the case we'd probably spend our days cussin n' aswearing.


Thanks for a good poem, as usual,

Got ta catch up with ya with me e-mails, Sylvia. I'll send ya report from downunder soon

YAPFDU,

jOHN

[Arnfinn]

Hi Lori,


n interesting tale of old! gimli.gif

I've only noted a change in your stanza structure (very much in line with Nina) and a couple of word deletions in { }.

Enjoyed this one! Glad to see you back!
~Cleo mm.gif mm.gif

Thank You, I can sit upright now... so I'm back here again.



He sways beside me,
tattered brown fingers clawing,
slapping and shaking—
a cruciform figure in dark shadows. (Nice creepy opening)

He stops… sighs… then turns—
hooked thorns suckle strained sinews. (excellent word choices)
‘ Here accept the sword of absit omen,
you must venture on—
go slay your demons.’

A standstill.

Tall gray torsos, stout roots underneath.
Old growth,
defused light,
black nefarious impediments.
The girth of lost days.

Each sword stoke—
a hollow ring…{no echo…}no echoes.

Enough—
we must return to {the} sunlight.


I was going to leave the form, more or less, as is-a ramble. Now I've changed my mind, your reconstruction of of the stanzas are better. The poem is easier to read and I think using 'A standstill' as a one line statement looks great.



John