The Scene of the Crime

and let's unveil your greatest alibi
as I watch you return to the scene of the crime
let's ask all your witnesses that will swear
that you were somewhere else that night
and I will stay awake and mine eyes won't rest,
I'll seek out the clues, may my efforts be blessed
I'll follow the trails till I find all the proof that I need
to relieve this ache from my chest

{ Cincinnati Rail Tie }

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pospreterito: young man in black with a red tie against a red wall (Default)
[ pos.pɾe'te.ɾi.to ]
pospreterito: reads "saint stephen [the city without maps]" ({stories} ..saint stephen with a rose)
[personal profile] pospreterito

03/07/2012

form: villanelle
meter: iambic heptameter. i think.
why: i was bored, angry, and lonely
success rate: uh okay...? i mean, i wrote it to have a villanelle i can sing ("the one i can sing.txt") and built the tune around a your mom crack i made at an episode of supernatural and then didn't even use the rest of the line, s... o...
weird title? Y oh my god sufjan stevens when did you start doing titles for me cut it out i can do it myself

When Your Loved Ones Flinch At The Name Of God


nothing's going to come to light beneath a hazy moon.
night falls hard and i don't know what to do
but tell the figure in the mist the end is coming soon.

so far the only sign you have's a bottled-up monsoon--
if card games fail to entertain you, half-off on forged clues!
nothing's going to come to light beneath a hazy moon

because clichés are still for kids who haven't met their doom,
not we who've won rigged games 'gainst old gods and new--
but tell the figure in the mist, "the end is coming soon.

you taught me correspondence one-to-one, manufactured runes
i could still read if they mattered, but what can you do?"
nothing's going to come to light beneath a hazy moon.

bow out and let the dead dance tango in their tombs:
no cause would deserve a sacrifice of you.
but tell the figure in the mist the end is coming soon

and we'll arrive too late to ever get in tune.
turns out the only truth applicable is what i knew:
nothing's going to come to light beneath a hazy moon;
but tell the figure in the mist the end is coming soon!


08/07/2012

form: sestina
meter: iambic tetrameter
why: i was bored, angry, and lonely
success rate: sure why not (not sure what i think of it, but I WROTE A SESTINA, BOW DOWN, basically)
weird title? Y, but informs rest of poem

I've never liked Job


"My God! There must be some mistake!"
You find you tremble when you ask,
"Have I done wrong? Is this revenge?"
You beat your breast and pray for truth
And honestly you look a fake,
A fool, to beg a miracle

Or what you think's a miracle;
Too late you'll notice your mistake.
It's not that what you know is fake,
But you lack the knowledge to ask
A question that would lead to truth.
It's not much, as far as revenge

Goes; but it's enough to revenge
Somewhat that you call miracle.
In dust you scrabble for the truth:
How's this? You all were a mistake
A wrong answer to no one's ask.
We miss the mark and try to fake

Success; and just this once, the fake
Talks back. The rest is just revenge.
How arrogant for you to ask
For mercy or some miracle,
When all the while, make no mistake,
You've reaped naught but mercy, in truth.

You never will believe the truth.
You are sure to think me a fake
Sent to entrap you to mistake
A rightful test for some revenge.
Keep praying for your miracle.
Make sure you've not the breath to ask

The right questions. Rejoice. Don't ask
Aught that could lead you to some truth.
Just hold on for a miracle.
They'll come and sing of options. They're fake.
Step away and brace for revenge.
Keep begging us, "Fix this mistake."

You must not ask what you can't fake;
The truth itself will be revenge.
Your miracle is God's mistake.


09/07/2012

form: terzanelle
meter: reverse iambic hexameter
why: i was bored, angry, and lonely
success rate: it didn't end up conveying quite what i wanted it to. admittedly, what i wanted it to may have been overly complicated, seeing as i can't seem to explain it in anything less obtuse than... dresden files metaphors... good example of why i shouldn't be allowed to write personal poetry, can't do that thing and god knows how obersy et al manage it.
weird title? Y

"What are you going to major in?"
------------------- Or ----------------------
If the World Wins Out


should all my idealism be knocked out like teeth
and i be run to ground, then i will follow you.
when all my alternatives lie crushed under feet

i'll take my pride and rend it: tell me what to do.
if all i have ever loved leaves me with no use
and i be run to ground, then i will follow you.

i'd love you like i love all else: don't make me choose.
the best you'll be is my emergency fall-back
if all i have ever loved leaves me with no use.

mine is not to pledge love for life or 'till stone cracks;
mine is not to give oath to one and only one.
the best you'll be is my emergency fall-back.

say one cause will suffice once all my dabbling's done,
i'll go to you if none should take me in fractions.
mine is not to give oath to one and only one.

one light wouldn't suffice but i can't choose a faction:
i'll go to you if none should take me in fractions,
should my idealism be knocked out like teeth,
when all my alternatives lie crushed under feet.


22/07/2012

form: english sonnet seven couplets because someone got the rhyme scheme for a sonnet wrong
meter: iambic pentameter
why: i was bored, angry, and lonely
success rate: ??? i started with a tweet of david malki!'s and got a distraction. win...?
weird title? Y (however, the titles not in capslock don't count, they're more notes-to-self, but they're at the top of the page so here you go)

OPTIMISM
(when the lights go out I'll still believe in you; come hell or high water I'm not going into politics; with thanks to Alan Turing and Ada Lovelace)


Lest life turn you to stone or careless beast:
There's one thing new under the sun at least.
The moon did rise five centuries ago;
Be it destroyed or not tomorrow, know

Somewhere and for someone, the past was worse;
Today's lucky ten thousand learned a first;
If next year disbands all we thought we knew,
In decades we will re-establish true.

Your candle has burnt out; take my flashlight.
Both of us have just lost, but what a fight!
In the breaking of your heart, a theory's proved
And God's immobile rock has now been moved:

At least there's one thing new under the sun.
If we're all gone by midnight, we still won.

Date: 2012-07-23 05:19 am (UTC)
bookblather: A picture of Yomiko Readman looking at books with the text "bookgasm." (Default)
From: [personal profile] bookblather
Oh wow, I like all of these, but I absolutely love Optimism and I've Never Liked Job. Just. Lovely, lovely pieces and so resonant and I really love them. Great job!