Ok, revised this AGAIN. This time I _think_ I got the rhythm straightened out by my friend, iambic pentameter.

A clerk's ire

He almost fears his pen has grown too cold;
From all the bitter words he's left untold.
As such; the diligent good clerk despairs;
Our scribe was ever one to put on airs.

"A coward's spiteful way, that of the ink;
Or so the foolish man would surely think"
He mumbles to himself with latent ire;
His peevish tongue a whip of caustic wire.

"I do agree" admits the crafty clerk;
No effort shown to hide his telltale smirk.
He wipes his nose to clean another smudge
And toils to make his broken pencil budge.

So rarely are these so-called lords aware;
(And if they were, they'd certainly not care)
Of any condescending base disdain;
For who of stature would inspect his chain?

Poetry by Thomas Selnes The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 1330 times
Written on 2006-11-22 at 16:06

Tags Clerk 

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text

tony legba
Yes, the iambic is spot on. But iambic rhythms can be deadly when perfect. The regularity of stress (avoided by poets) smashes the meaning up into chunks more often than not. For me, the heavy regularity of metre and rhyme distracts from meaning...though I am interested in the poem's words and thoughts.

Language: 3
Format: 3
Mood: 3
Overall: 3

Ahhh. Iambic meter - I'm just learning to subdue that demon.

Hats off to you for creating the caustic clerk, and presenting him so vividly and well.

Language: 4
Format: 5
Mood: 5
Overall: 5

Nor I will try to hide my impish smile
that comes from reading this for a long while:
Iambic pentameters, boy! It's true!
If i were young and nubile, I'd court you!