#3sadbats

[i-scan-your-poems]

Forced apathy

You comprehend, you understand,

You even might agree;

Your work receives their reprimand,

You grant them amnesty

Their words, they hurt and wound your heart

And no reprieve you see;

The fault is mostly yours in part,

They lead you to believe

The list of dysphemisms hums

A haunted hateful tune;

Your fatal solecism comes

To make the vultures swoon

Without demur, “they’re right,” you grant,

Inside, your mind, it flails;

Despite your work, “it’s nought,” you chant,

With words rehearsed in wails

“The vitriol we call rebuff

Will burn inside your soul;

It’s caustic but will cleanse enough

Your dreams into your goals”

You feed yourself this sweetened lie,

But always should you boast;

In lieu of expiation, rise,

And be not lachrymose

Be sure your work and effort spent

Is meritorious;

Of course their words a heart can wrench,

But let it hurt you less

It takes a strength to wear this guise,

Resolve to never flee,

And say with grief and tear-filled eyes

“It doesn’t bother me”

(Hopefully the prose here tracks better)

Scansion:

◡ – ◡ – ◡ – ◡ – You comprehend, you understand, ◡ – ◡ – ◡ – [note trochaic inversion in 2nd foot] You even might agree; ◡ – ◡ – ◡ – ◡ – Your work receives their reprimand, ◡ – ◡ – ◡ – You grant them amnesty

Metrical form: iambic tetrameter + iambic trimeter, aka common hymn meter

Rhyme scheme: ABAB

[i-scan-your-poems]

The source of my vitality:

Into the stars to look—

The heavens, my reality,

The moon, an open book.

I’ve friends that often wait with me

And watch the grand temporal view,

And share with me their majesty

Before the sun on morn renews.

But my acquaintance does not make

The average townsman come alive—

In truth, it makes the soulless quake,

For no one can this sky revive.

I know not nebulae supreme,

Just meager, weak suburban sky—

The firmament a thing of dreams;

But if the streetlights were to die…

I’d dare to stare up at the glare,

And they too deign to raise their gaze—

For blinding light, they tremble scared,

Whilst I stare in amazement dazed.

Scansion:

◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ ◡ – ◡ / ◡ – / ◡ – ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ ◡ ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – ◡ – / ◡ – / – ◡ / ◡ – ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – ◡ – ◡ / ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ ◡ / ◡ – ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – ◡ – / ◡ ◡ / ◡ – / ◡ – ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – ◡ – / – – / ◡ – / ◡ – ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – / ◡ – ◡ – / – ◡ / ◡ – / ◡ –

Metrical form: In the first stanza, odd-numbered lines are iambic tetrameter while even-numbered lines are iambic trimeter. After that, all lines are iambic tetrameter.

Rhyme scheme: ABAB

Other notes: This poem uses occasional pyrrhic, spondaic, and especially trochaic substitutions, replacing individual iambic feet with other types of foot. For example, in the last line, Whilst I / stare in / amaze/ment dazed, the second foot scans as – ◡ (a trochee). In the first tline, The source / of my / vita/lity, the last foot scans as ◡ ◡, a pyrrhic.