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Posts tagged “India ink drawing

Bird, little bird

 

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When you learn to fly,

But you haven’t any wings

When you stand and cry —
                                       

                ( : )

                                                                                                                            

simply standing – dry,

the rain within pours and stings,

and it hurts and sings —           

                         

in a holy plight,

in battered flight, wavering

your hand – favouring

 

 

because

it’s

warm before the night.

 

 

 

 

 

 


59 syllable poem.  –   ”575 575 575 215” form | 3 haiku +  3lined strophe
                                            

 

 

poem dedicated to a little bird

 

 

 


 

 

 

An annotation to the poem:  in brackets I leave a *Key / Legend – as if in a map, for its reading.

(59 syllable form of 3 haiku + 3lined strophe | in mus. comp. terms it would be a Da capo Aria, but, in truth, more towards being a small French Overture form, where the Da capo section precedes (can precede, that is)  those that follow, that can be on there own – with the Da Capo section and independant of each other in their own ”section”, or linked between the three that follow in their present order, or, a variation if expanded to a larger structure. This description of ”structure”, is mainly for my own benefit – and as a mnemonic – for Musical Form, in case I hit the keyboard latter on (for instance, because my poor brain functions more freely as a musician, when looking at form and structure).  I shall leave, however, a punctuation mark – a full colon – to represent the Da Capo section before it, in light blue). As I also see the this somewhat as another sample of a ”fugued poem” form, as well (I have a couple), where each line of the Da Capo section can stand on its own – for the the *variations in mind,  the full (or rather, the expanded version) of this I shall leave below (also in light blue)  .

 

 

 

When you learn to fly  

The rain within pours and stings    

Your hand, favouring   

But you haven’t any wings   

In a holy plight   

Because its warm in the night  

Simply standing – dry, 

When you stand and cry,   

In battered flight, wavering      

 

 

 

And
Because
it’s warm, sing .

 

 


(variation: section 575757557 123 –   and varied off the 575 575 575 215) 

 


Finale: 
[215 557755575(or 7) –  a 59 syllab, form(or 61, if seen as a * 2nd variation*).  ]


 

 

Because
it’s
warm before the night, 

 

Your hand, favouring
in a holy plight, 
in battered flight, wavering,
But you haven’t any wings
Simply standing – dry,
And it hurts and sings,
When you stand and cry,
The rain within pours – and stings,
Because it is warm – (because it’s warm before the night) .  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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