Moving Along

I had to sacrifice the meter, but here's the next stanza of that poem as it stands now. It will certainly go through substantial revision before it's complete.

Blow that trumpet Angel and watch me rise.
I'm sleeping in my grave; It's time to wake.
The only skies I need are in your eyes.

Up on the grassy hill where the child dies,
pulled apart across a wooden stake,
tug that rope now Honey and watch him rise.

Newest Project

Here is the beginning (the very beginning) of my most recent project. I intend to make it a villanelle(sp?). I also want to make it a song. I've never heard of anyone putting a villanelle to music. I was thinking I could structure it somewhat like Peggy Lee's "Fever" except much shorter. I realize that I'm probably talking to the wind, but if you have any comments on it, that'd be cool. The main reason I've delayed finishing this (I wrote these lines months ago) is that I don't know where I want it go with it. Or that might be an excuse for laziness. Really I should just embark with what I've already got and see what I find in the open sea.

I have a particular fondness of the villanelle (though this will be the first I've written) because the first poem I ever liked was one.

Blow that trumpet angel and watch me rise.
I'm sleeping in my grave; It's time to wake.
The only skies I need are in your eyes.


PEACE!