I think I broke something

[hawkwing_lb]

I think I broke my brain sometime in the last week.



Currently lacking a title:

Sat 30th September 2006

Starward-sailing god
of things underneath
the seas your heavens
son of Lear, were you not
swan-winged once?

No, that was another Lear
a different king
child-lost and grieving.
I misremember.

The myths keep changing
and the years, turning
was there once a greening man
or was he burning?

Had I forgot?
Or was it a dream,
Niamh tossing her golden hair,
fair Fionn by the salmon-stream?

Ulster's hound and Macha's mare
found no fairer wake
among the moss
the myth was memory
and mine is lost.

Charioteer, white-maned
and wave-riding
your steeds remain.

Comments

[papersky.livejournal.com]

"Are the old gods dead?"

"No, they think we are."

"What about Mannan, is he dead?"

"He sits dreaming on an iceberg in the heart of the sea, waiting for the world to be made young again."

Dialogue between a Scottish fisherman and a Victorian collector of folklore, as recorded (or made up, who knows) by William Sharp, quoted from memory but pretty close.

And if you don't mind me saying, that's good, and the rhyme-scheme very nearly works, and should be fixable.

[hawkwing-lb.livejournal.com]

And if you don't mind me saying, that's good

I don't mind, at all. Why would I? Being more than passingly bad at the poetry, and completely unlearned concerning the technicalities of such things as form - well, it's nice to hear that I might not be completely embarrassing myself in public. :)



(May I say that, having read Farthing, I'm still searching for the words for my reaction to it - apart from impressive :). It left me with a rather quiet feeling, inside. And, well, I think it's a book I'll be reading again.

*coughs and retreats in embarrassment*)