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Sonnet on The Man

O, that the child was ne’er conceived at all
nor yet excessive tell his birthing cries
cast not of God, but else God’s nearest ties.
Without he live, none founder ‘neath the pall.

Mankind in bliss and ne’er to ween the crawl,
despairing of lost joy, lamentful sighs
of liberty so failed no hopes disguise
the base unyielding curse of his enthrall.

White Gods of Hell in lapse for he did come!
Pale traitors felled betraying Dire Prince
held bleak aloft in dark the faltered chain.

Hope winnowed from despair as man succumb.
A Doom lain cold, hard met nor lighter since
and Blight at Ends Of All shall be his reign.

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
Here then is my second oldest poem. It is the lead in for my epic poem Caco, Man of the Morning Star. It is now twelve years old which is not terribly old, but I came to poetry late in life, so this is for me a very old poem. At the time I had to look up the rules for what made a sonnet a sonnet. I knew nothing. When you read it you are not supposed to know anything about the story (which is now thirty thousand lines or more). Just read it as the opening work of a much larger story.
Editing stage: 


it is a sonnet alright. A Petrarchan Sonnet at that. Not the easier Shakespearian style. Quite a dark piece overall. Excellent for a first or second try at the form. I like the old world feel to the piece. My only suggestion:
White Gods of Hell that lapses as he comes!
Hope winnowed from despair as man succumbs.

Keith Logan
the happy chappy

it's a pretty heavy piece for an early poem.
Not a simple write to follow, but some sterling imagery.

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you come out to test my fear
SNOW man
if you can
bury me dear
sonnet I can't compere
O human
man or woman

I agree with Jane. this is quite intricate for a first poem. I don't know sonnets very well. but I know a work of beauty when I see it. the imagery is stunning. it makes a lasting impression on the reader.

always, Cat

When someone reads your work
And responds, please be courteous
And reply in kind, thanks.


W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

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author comment

to my favourite descriptor of poetry 'compression of meaning'. One can seldom get them at first reading. It helps a little to know the conventions of their structure, including the volta. Yet they are seldom expository or explicit.

This is pretty damn good, Wesley. But you know I never did finish reading "Caco, Man of the Morning Star", or Byron's "Don Juan" for that matter. I like 'em short.

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