Thursday, October 14, 2010

The Knife

I am perhaps being slightly over-eager in beating the deadline by so many days, but I could come up with no reason to wait.

I was not thrilled with any of the first set of prompts, but I did like the idea of writing about knives, so what follows is a poem (in vaguely Shakespearean sonnet form) composed in semi-response to prompt #1.

The knife's a cutting thing, as you have shown,
no matter where or among whom it lands.
The blunt end, you will say, could serve a blow,
but hold the blade and see how fares your hand.
Though, time permitting, you forget that cut
and notice not that now your hand's the knife,
don't be surprised the world bleeds at your touch,
for what you've done today you'll do for life.
Why rack the one who gave you such a tool
as you weren't unaware you'd use for that?
You yourself and she were desperate fools
to neither give nor take the weapon back.
The heart and love have no sharp edges, but
the knife was made for nothing but to cut.
The Death of Julius Caesar
[Image source]

3 comments:

  1. Knives can be very inspirational.

    I often have trouble commenting on poetry, since I know very little about form, which seems to me the primary point of most poetry.

    Anyhow, that being said, I am glad that you chose a traditional form. It flows well, except for these two lines: "Why rack the one who gave you such a tool/as you weren't unaware you'd use to rack?"

    In that place, your adherence to stricter form weakens the otherwise comfortable flow of the poem.

    I also really liked your inclusion of that picture. It forces us to consider 'love' in a much broader sense than simple romance and that opens up the theme of your poem.

    Thanks for your contribution.

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  2. This poem is fantastic! Who are you and how did you learn to write like this?

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  3. Jason: You guilted me into revision with your incisive identification of the biggest weakness. Thanks!

    David: I'm glad you like it. Brutus and Shakespeare and Jason taught me.

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