text; un: raverobber

[badfeyth]

What was it that you thought you knew?
"Not much," misfortune seemed to bray,
When all came crashing down on you.

You used to shine in every hue;
Your confidence kept fear at bay.
What was it that you thought you knew?

For like a weed, ambition grew;
Temptation drove your steps astray,
When all came crashing down on you.

Could I have hindered what ensued?
Could this have gone another way?
What was it that you thought you knew?

What matter now? At your debut,
On best intentions, panic preyed.
It all came crashing down on you.

And now upon a time or two,
My own reflection seems to say,
"What was it that you thought you knew
When all came crashing down on you?"

It's been a while since I wrote one of these. They say it's a poetry form that's often used for showcasing a level of obsession; from a technical standpoint, it's also a fairly difficult type to write in because of the rigidity of its form. You pretty much have to pick the refrains first and then work out the rest of it around them.

Anyway, it's probably some level of hubris to put something like this out where anyone and everyone can see it, but call it a way of holding myself accountable to something. If it's out there, I can't set it alight and pretend it never existed. For better or for worse, there it is.

I should probably do more of that than I do, putting things out there and damning the hangups. But any bridge built has to start with a single post, right? Or something like that — don't look at me, I'm not an architect.

Comments

text ; @thundaga

[astraphilia]

and she writes poetry. what can't you do?

[badfeyth]

Juggle.

Hi, Reno.

[astraphilia]

guess you can't win 'em all, huh?

hi, Ghost. how's it?

[badfeyth]

It's strange, honestly. It feels like for the longest time I hadn't written a poem in ages, and now in just the past month or so I've put out a half-dozen or more. Not that they've been good, mind, but it's still something.

Anyway, apparently we've got a named source and culprit for all those shenanigans of a few weeks back. I'm not sure if that's supposed to be cathartic or not.

Text @Alhaitham

[justscribing]

It takes quite a bit of skill in word precision to write good poetry. Did you consider the form of this to be difficult for yourself?

text; un: louis

[deathoftheauthor]

For better or worse? I think it's lovely. Certainly not worthy of such self-reproach.

[badfeyth]

It's a challenging form generally. Not only do the refrains repeat throughout the structure and have to form a meaningful couplet in the last stanza in and of themselves, but you're also confined to only two rhymes throughout, so you have to be selective about making sure you choose words with a relatively broad scope of things that rhyme with them.

This would've been a far different experience if my refrains had been "You thought you had it all in hand / But nothing went the way you'd planned", for example.

[badfeyth]

Some of it is self-reproach, some is borrowed from past feedback. Writing something like this was a good exercise for the technical challenges, but it wasn't worth much on artistic merit.

Hi, Louis.

text, un: caster

[excaliburden]

[Oh. Some of those words.... hurt a little, she thinks, if she thinks too hard about what they might mean.]

You wrote that? Really? All by yourself?

[badfeyth]

Well, I didn't invent the structure, but the content is mine. It was an interesting enough exercise.

[justscribing]

Of course, but you're much more practiced in communication than the average person so I was curious if this was still something you found challenging in its form, rather than its content.

text; un: thevampirelestat

[perfectdevil]

Rigid form, yes, but I always find somehow it's easier to be honest in the confines of poetry. Prose is a little too real, a little too close to the surface. Poetry exists in some middle ground, where it's safer to be so vulnerable.

I hope you're doing well, chérie.

[badfeyth]

I'm...something, at least. Coping, maybe.

What about you? After...

[badfeyth]

Well, I don't find it abject torture. But it's not the sort of thing I'd consider easy, either.

So yes, I found it challenging. The way a long-distance runner finds a marathon challenging, or something like that.

text, un: Hat Guy

[featheradrift]

[ Oh. This poem... the words resonate with him painfully. That first verse could almost perfectly describe when he discovered he'd been thoroughly deceived by the Doctor. And if the rest of the poem could be twisted to replace ambition, confidence, and all these sweet, positive words with ones like anger and rage, it would describe his life almost too perfectly. ]

This an expression of your own emotions? Or just a writing exercise on a whimsy?

[badfeyth]

More the former than the latter. It's certainly a writing exercise, but the benefit of the structure is that it makes it easier for emotion to fill in the spaces in-between.

[justscribing]

Is poetry an old hobby of yours?

[featheradrift]

I suppose with the rules of the structure limiting your options, you can focus on choosing the best words to express the emotions you want to convey.

[ He's not the Haravatat though, so poems aren't his forte. ]

Sounds like you've been agonizing over something from the past, to the point of obsession, given your explanation of this poem format. Looking for an opportunity to talk about it?

[badfeyth]

Hobby is an interesting word. I guess it's probably as close as it gets, though? I liked to play with words, and in a way, that's all that poetry is.

Why, what was yours?

[badfeyth]

Exactly. And a few of the lines worked out precisely that way — I wrote them first, and then went back and realized I had a better way of expressing the same sentiment. "My own reflection seems to say" started its life as "I look within myself and say", for example.

That's fairly bold of you, though. Are you looking for an opportunity to listen about it?

[deathoftheauthor]

I see. I found it quite moving nevertheless. I see no hubris in it, but then perhaps my own perspective has been skewed by far more outrageous displays of vanity.

Hello, Ghost.

[featheradrift]

It often takes more than one round of polishing to reveal the true beauty of a sword. I suppose poetry is much the same. The final version rings much truer, I agree.

There's a familiar story hidden behind those words. I'm merely curious, that's all. Share, or don't. Your choice.

[justscribing]

What would you call it if not a hobby?

I can't think of any hobbies I've abandoned over the years. Though this place makes it difficult to learn any other language or script.

[perfectdevil]

Coping is better than not coping. If the mind can still conjure up imagination, then all cannot be lost to darkness.

I’m alright.

…

Well, actually, I’m quite annoyed. I’m sure you can understand why. I wanted to find you after the fact, but I realised I’m not sure where you live. And more than that, perhaps, you might not be looking for company in the wake of having yourself dragged into the light like that.

[badfeyth]

Hah! Now that's definitely possible. Next to a bonfire, every candle looks infinitesimal.

You're partial to poetry, then?