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Mar. 13th, 2004
Anniversary / Finduilas
Mar. 13th, 2004 01:51 amI've been writing stories in my head all my life, but I seldom made the leap to paper, and showed those leaps even less. Poetry I have always written down - but that seemed a nice safe way to avoid attracting attention with words - my family said I have a flair for expression, but that poetry was hardly a twentieth century skill...
A year ago, having newly discovered reading fanfiction, I was surfing around the internet, thinking about the date. The thirteenth of March. I can't see the date written down without picturing Faramir standing under the wings of terror to buy his men a chance to regroup and escape. And the price he paid for that love. His men described him as "always in the lead." Not that day - my reckless ranger was the last one off the field, in the arms of Imrahil.
Searching for Faramir took me to Henneth Annun, where I discovered there was a challenge running to write *love* poetry in Denethor's voice. Denethor. He is a project of mine, warring with himself in my head - Denethor and himself as his own evil twin. I want to understand him. Could I put myself in that head?
I decided to try out my new passion for obsessive form poetry in that dark voice. If ever there was a voice for it, this seemed like it. And who was going to notice poetry? I decided to write him a terza, but typically, the old man wanted his own way.
As always, Faramir, my heart is with you on the field today. Because of you standing as my muse, I showed my words in public for the first time, last year on this day. Never let go of my hand. Oh yeah, and I was outed at HASA in less than a day, and encouraged to do this again. Gluttons for punishment they were at that time. I am so greatful that was the moment I chose. My first public outing, just as it ran...
A year ago, having newly discovered reading fanfiction, I was surfing around the internet, thinking about the date. The thirteenth of March. I can't see the date written down without picturing Faramir standing under the wings of terror to buy his men a chance to regroup and escape. And the price he paid for that love. His men described him as "always in the lead." Not that day - my reckless ranger was the last one off the field, in the arms of Imrahil.
Searching for Faramir took me to Henneth Annun, where I discovered there was a challenge running to write *love* poetry in Denethor's voice. Denethor. He is a project of mine, warring with himself in my head - Denethor and himself as his own evil twin. I want to understand him. Could I put myself in that head?
I decided to try out my new passion for obsessive form poetry in that dark voice. If ever there was a voice for it, this seemed like it. And who was going to notice poetry? I decided to write him a terza, but typically, the old man wanted his own way.
As always, Faramir, my heart is with you on the field today. Because of you standing as my muse, I showed my words in public for the first time, last year on this day. Never let go of my hand. Oh yeah, and I was outed at HASA in less than a day, and encouraged to do this again. Gluttons for punishment they were at that time. I am so greatful that was the moment I chose. My first public outing, just as it ran...
Finduilas - villanelle
I knew my spirit could not take me higher
And yet I burned when I embraced your light
That’s when I gave my heart up to the fire
For in your depth was all that I require
And in that moment, as with second sight
I knew my spirit could not take me higher
I never understood about desire
Until I saw you were both dark and bright
That’s when I gave my heart up to the fire
And when our souls ignited on that pyre
I rose up like a phoenix; reached for flight -
I knew my spirit could not take me higher
I should have known that cruel fate would conspire
To take you from the arms of your true knight
That’s when I gave my heart up to the fire
I never understood about desire
Until you left me nothing but the night
I knew my spirit could not take me higher
That’s when I gave my heart up to the fire
*******
Author's notes:
When I decided to try to write a poem from Denethor's point of view, I thought I would work with the terzanelle form and try playing with the sound and repetition. But Denethor's voice is strong, and I was soon drawn into the even stricter structure of the villanelle - it seemed to me he wanted to use a form as formal as Gondor.
I am not sure I am convinced in my own heart that Denethor ever felt, or indeed was capable of feeling anything this strongly. So, this was quite an exercise for me. I don't think it is an accident I wrote a poem he would have written to address her loss, not to celebrate having her love.
"Finduilas" is written after her death (and with an edge of prophecy)
my sweetie is sick
Mar. 13th, 2004 06:23 amsix am Saturday morning. No, there is no vacuuming (yet).
JIm came home craving chinese food, so even though he has been sick on and off all week I thought that was a good sign. He ate chicken with peanuts, put in the Big O box set and settled in for a weekend where we have no obligations and hoped to clear up some of our own projects. He fell asleep around episode seven.
I was forced to wake him around 1am for computer help - I was livid, wrestling with the newest trick Mozilla and Dreamweaver were conspiring in, and just as furious that I could not figure out how to fix it myself. We never did find out what it was, but I managed to kluge a work-around, and finally cleared enough space in my electronic day to take a hot bath around 2, and left him sleuthing the problem for closure, as engineers are wont to do.
I got out to find that he had been sick the whole time I was gone, and no end in sight. I know we have both been queasy and achy and sad, and I had two completely rotten days earlier this week, but he is really sick - I think he might have food poisoning.
He is finally trying to sleep now, but I can't sleep, I have to watch him sleep. I hate this helplessness. And if his mother wakes us by calling first thing on Saturday morning for her weekly complain about the neighbors session, she is in for a ride.
update: 8 am. he is finally sleeping, and I have been watching him breathe for ten minutes. Now I think I will see if I can manage to part company with my own insides without waking him.
JIm came home craving chinese food, so even though he has been sick on and off all week I thought that was a good sign. He ate chicken with peanuts, put in the Big O box set and settled in for a weekend where we have no obligations and hoped to clear up some of our own projects. He fell asleep around episode seven.
I was forced to wake him around 1am for computer help - I was livid, wrestling with the newest trick Mozilla and Dreamweaver were conspiring in, and just as furious that I could not figure out how to fix it myself. We never did find out what it was, but I managed to kluge a work-around, and finally cleared enough space in my electronic day to take a hot bath around 2, and left him sleuthing the problem for closure, as engineers are wont to do.
I got out to find that he had been sick the whole time I was gone, and no end in sight. I know we have both been queasy and achy and sad, and I had two completely rotten days earlier this week, but he is really sick - I think he might have food poisoning.
He is finally trying to sleep now, but I can't sleep, I have to watch him sleep. I hate this helplessness. And if his mother wakes us by calling first thing on Saturday morning for her weekly complain about the neighbors session, she is in for a ride.
update: 8 am. he is finally sleeping, and I have been watching him breathe for ten minutes. Now I think I will see if I can manage to part company with my own insides without waking him.
for the_reverand
Mar. 13th, 2004 08:59 amfor ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
the_reverand
How old do you feel?
in catholic school they taught us that seven was the age of reason, and after that you were responsible for your actions, so most days I stick with 6 1/2. Though when I turned 50, my husband had to remind me daily it was not 15...
What is/was your favorite pet's name and why is/was it so great?
Spoo was my soulmate. He had so much trust in me that during his last year he would voluntarily climb up on my lap for his injections. we just did everything together. Powzie and Ginger are hardly nudged down by him, but he was amazing. Everyone who knew my little fox loved him.
Reveal/discuss something (the more arbitrary the better) you don't usually mention on your LJ, but is a thing/subject/occurence very dear to you.
I like to shower just before bed. I *love* the sensation of getting into clean sheets with clean skin. If I had a maid (or a washing machine) I would change the sheets every single day.
Briefly describe your surroundings.
I have posted pics of my geek nest - but right now, I am in the waterbed with my Ti-book on my legs, and my sick sweetie clinging to the other edge of the bed. The celtic books are in this room, and the Tolkien - in the barristers case that Jim and I built. there is a full laundry basket of Jim's Aloha shirts I didn't get to.
If love were a sound, what would it sound like?
My husband's wedding ring clattering onto the headboard
What's something you eat that you assume most people don't?
keto bars. yum. peanut butter and cheese sandwiches, sometimes with bacon. peanut butter and chocolate sandwiches for comfort food.
Describe your hands.
pudgy but graceful. Jim put my hand in this years solstice card. My hands appear in some of the illustrations in the book People of Pern but not because they are beautiful - because Robin made me be her slave labor - she needed reference for position of hands. I have a car door scar on the middle finger of the right hand. silver claddah wedding ring. short nails. when I grow my nails, I like outlandish polish and glitter, but the power book keyboard likes short nails.
the_reverandHow old do you feel?
in catholic school they taught us that seven was the age of reason, and after that you were responsible for your actions, so most days I stick with 6 1/2. Though when I turned 50, my husband had to remind me daily it was not 15...
What is/was your favorite pet's name and why is/was it so great?
Spoo was my soulmate. He had so much trust in me that during his last year he would voluntarily climb up on my lap for his injections. we just did everything together. Powzie and Ginger are hardly nudged down by him, but he was amazing. Everyone who knew my little fox loved him.
Reveal/discuss something (the more arbitrary the better) you don't usually mention on your LJ, but is a thing/subject/occurence very dear to you.
I like to shower just before bed. I *love* the sensation of getting into clean sheets with clean skin. If I had a maid (or a washing machine) I would change the sheets every single day.
Briefly describe your surroundings.
I have posted pics of my geek nest - but right now, I am in the waterbed with my Ti-book on my legs, and my sick sweetie clinging to the other edge of the bed. The celtic books are in this room, and the Tolkien - in the barristers case that Jim and I built. there is a full laundry basket of Jim's Aloha shirts I didn't get to.
If love were a sound, what would it sound like?
My husband's wedding ring clattering onto the headboard
What's something you eat that you assume most people don't?
keto bars. yum. peanut butter and cheese sandwiches, sometimes with bacon. peanut butter and chocolate sandwiches for comfort food.
Describe your hands.
pudgy but graceful. Jim put my hand in this years solstice card. My hands appear in some of the illustrations in the book People of Pern but not because they are beautiful - because Robin made me be her slave labor - she needed reference for position of hands. I have a car door scar on the middle finger of the right hand. silver claddah wedding ring. short nails. when I grow my nails, I like outlandish polish and glitter, but the power book keyboard likes short nails.