Alright, the inspiration for this poem is an insanely painful experience I had recently writing down sixty pages worth of assignments in one day. (I'll probably write down the anecdote on my personal blog sometime.) So, I decided to try my hand at a poetic metre called 'iambic tetrameter' - briefly, it means that every line in the poem is comprised of four pairs of alternating unstressed and stressed syllables. Notice how it lends a sing-song quality to the lines below? Try to read the poem aloud stressing and unstressing naturally and see if you enjoy it. :)
Here's a reading of the poem. Sorry, I might have got carried away with some of the enunciations.
Oh there was once a mighty man
He’d wrestle lions to the floor
He, faster than a cheetah, ran
And had a mind as sharp as four.
But ev’n the keenest spear it’s told –
Shall meet a shield too firm and break.
And so it proved, the hero bold
“Oh God I’m great, but this – can’t take!”
“Assignments four, and sheets three score,
A day is all is giv’n myself.”
He wailed and cried for time some more
Until enraged was God himself.
“Your star is nothing save a ball -
Of dust, and lost to wind in flow.”
These words that stung our hero’s gall
Inspired him like a wicked blow.
His weap’n the pen, his music hard
A sheet he turned and so began
The finest penwork since the Bard.
From page to page it spanned.
But hold! Two pairs of hours passed;
And only but a fifth was done.
Appeared spent, our hero – lost –
In pain, his arm and leg as one.
A tiny rest, and crack of light
The monster, will he rise to face?
Of course, it’s only fair to right
A losing war by changing place.
Each page he filled was foes he slew
All fair was foul, as art turned scrawl
As noon emerged, he forged on true
To see a third was left in all!
And now, with victory close away
Awoke his pride, en masse, and swelled
He drank and ate and made his hay
Until the close of day was felt.
The Devil’s whisper now in ear
“Come on, it’s done, your name is made
This final battle’s nought to fear
The war is won, so let’s parade!”
He laughed and cried as ag’ny spread
From limb to limb, from flesh to brain
In time, as fell the last, he said,
(to God and Devil) “Never again!”
Here's a reading of the poem. Sorry, I might have got carried away with some of the enunciations.
Oh there was once a mighty man
He’d wrestle lions to the floor
He, faster than a cheetah, ran
And had a mind as sharp as four.
But ev’n the keenest spear it’s told –
Shall meet a shield too firm and break.
And so it proved, the hero bold
“Oh God I’m great, but this – can’t take!”
“Assignments four, and sheets three score,
A day is all is giv’n myself.”
He wailed and cried for time some more
Until enraged was God himself.
“Your star is nothing save a ball -
Of dust, and lost to wind in flow.”
These words that stung our hero’s gall
Inspired him like a wicked blow.
His weap’n the pen, his music hard
A sheet he turned and so began
The finest penwork since the Bard.
From page to page it spanned.
But hold! Two pairs of hours passed;
And only but a fifth was done.
Appeared spent, our hero – lost –
In pain, his arm and leg as one.
A tiny rest, and crack of light
The monster, will he rise to face?
Of course, it’s only fair to right
A losing war by changing place.
Each page he filled was foes he slew
All fair was foul, as art turned scrawl
As noon emerged, he forged on true
To see a third was left in all!
And now, with victory close away
Awoke his pride, en masse, and swelled
He drank and ate and made his hay
Until the close of day was felt.
The Devil’s whisper now in ear
“Come on, it’s done, your name is made
This final battle’s nought to fear
The war is won, so let’s parade!”
He laughed and cried as ag’ny spread
From limb to limb, from flesh to brain
In time, as fell the last, he said,
(to God and Devil) “Never again!”
No comments:
Post a Comment