Hello Hello Hello Bloginistas!
I wrote this poem some time ago after having an argument with my partner and wanted to share it with you. It is written in iambic pentameter blank verse, for those of you “form nerds” out there. Enjoy! 😀
Oh and by the way, HAPPY NATIONAL POETRY MONTH 2015 (which is almost over, but AT LEAST I made it! 😉 )!!
I am forged into ire, my Paul Revere,
when you yell. An angrier bell than I
could have wrought with my emotion’s hammers.
Your alloy is pure, while mine is demure,
it doesn’t shine as bright or peal as loud.
A bell is a musical instrument,
a planned implement of percussion, and
you are Emperor of the Musicale,
I, a viola with a missing string.
No chance for mend, I am set on the wall,
not played, gathering derision like dust.
Once the clapper is placed and the yoke is
set, it is evident whose workmanship
is finer, I clearly lack the lathe to
refine my work. So my bell curve is heavy
and my pitch is imperfect while yours is
absolute, Mr. Boyle’s zero, but I
won’t gain a thing by participation.
The bellfounding is complete, and it’s time
to test our work. Before the first ring though,
the process quickly becomes a faded
memory and all is forgotten. They
are cardboard, these bells, cutouts to put on
a schoolroom wall, there to represent the
founding of America, put up with scotch
tape, a small reminder, but one that won’t
last (but the outline will be there forever).
© Jamy Sweet 2011-04-13
Here is the Wikipedia entry on Bellfounding, in case you: A. wanted to know more about the fascinating history and process, or, B. thought I misspelled it (like every spellchecker available) for the sake of “poetic license”, ha HA!!
And a link about National Poetry Month: