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Array ( [sid] => 177935 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Ode' to Hopkins- Unbridled Stallion [time] => 2014-03-12 22:21:02 [hometext] => [bodytext] => White stallion!
Noble, well muscled-
Rippling singing vaunting,
Firm of berm, song of motion and wanting
Prancing stomping chomping geared
toward light;
Plains- running strong
unfettered, twice unbridled
thrice saddle-less,
ebony ivory so confined,
simple chess a scattered
mess- accepted settled for by
equine less.
Hopkins dancing prancing in glory-
story his of most delight;
turns of terns at dusks' milky light
swooping regrouping laying together
ere' Eos and Helious tasked to lay
tis day complete.
I, alas, sat seated am this dusky
mane of grange,
life's toils soils turmoils all
boil in a cauldron of barren range.
in mind Stallion once pranced I;
Always, more or less in spirit,
(truth told)
more in name of diminished mane
Muscles majesty not the same
How lost, never had? Surely never to be gained,
the past-
white fading mewing brewing gray
Splaying praying flaying over hooves
crackling smacking over and over
head, head, heart, and head again
So tromped in fear of fear to ask
when that stallion firm of berm
can, will, can, will for my aide
arrive ere' muscles fade
and coat from white to gray so goes
fuzzy blows no longer noble nose...
forgotten teeth forgot crisp apple child's play,
whence this state?
In dancing prancing I got lost
prancing and dancing
pained, paid, made, many times laid
grasping spinning twinning flying
voiding, ever sliding from
white to gray from noble to ignoble-
the way of stallions unbridled. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 103 [topic] => 48 [informant] => invierno [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => EmotionalPoetry )
Ode' to Hopkins- Unbridled Stallion

Contributed by invierno on Wednesday, 12th March 2014 @ 10:21:02 PM in AEST
Topic: EmotionalPoetry



White stallion!
Noble, well muscled-
Rippling singing vaunting,
Firm of berm, song of motion and wanting
Prancing stomping chomping geared
toward light;
Plains- running strong
unfettered, twice unbridled
thrice saddle-less,
ebony ivory so confined,
simple chess a scattered
mess- accepted settled for by
equine less.
Hopkins dancing prancing in glory-
story his of most delight;
turns of terns at dusks' milky light
swooping regrouping laying together
ere' Eos and Helious tasked to lay
tis day complete.
I, alas, sat seated am this dusky
mane of grange,
life's toils soils turmoils all
boil in a cauldron of barren range.
in mind Stallion once pranced I;
Always, more or less in spirit,
(truth told)
more in name of diminished mane
Muscles majesty not the same
How lost, never had? Surely never to be gained,
the past-
white fading mewing brewing gray
Splaying praying flaying over hooves
crackling smacking over and over
head, head, heart, and head again
So tromped in fear of fear to ask
when that stallion firm of berm
can, will, can, will for my aide
arrive ere' muscles fade
and coat from white to gray so goes
fuzzy blows no longer noble nose...
forgotten teeth forgot crisp apple child's play,
whence this state?
In dancing prancing I got lost
prancing and dancing
pained, paid, made, many times laid
grasping spinning twinning flying
voiding, ever sliding from
white to gray from noble to ignoble-
the way of stallions unbridled.




Copyright © invierno ... [ 2014-03-12 22:21:02]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: Ode' to Hopkins- Unbridled Stallion (User Rating: 1 )
by xHeathenx on Friday, 14th March 2014 @ 05:06:25 AM AEST
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I feel I partially get this, and yet partially don't. Some of the wording seens intentionally archaic. In which case I don't really understand the meaning behind it. However, the brief wording to the lines makes thought quick, and it's enjoyable to see each and every thought pass so quick, as a horse ages before he knows it(if I got that much right.).


Re: Ode' to Hopkins- Unbridled Stallion (User Rating: 1 )
by Invierno on Friday, 14th March 2014 @ 08:15:15 AM AEST
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To commenter above, thank you for posting to this poem. Yes, the writing style is a bit archaic. It is an ode' to Gerard Manley Hopkins, an English poet. (Google- The Windhover' for a fine example of his efforts). He is known for his staccato style and clever wordplay.

You do get it, partially, as you suggested. The poem begins without one realizing it is a recollection, not an observation. The part about chess is a reference to organization (society and its rules, etc) as being to structured for him; he IS a mighty stallion, after all. HE is above such mundaity. Perhaps not so bad for 'equine less'.

As the poem progresses, we begin to see that this ageing stallion, in honest recollection his life, has at last come to the wisdom that perhaps he was not this mighty stallion after all, indeed, perhaps he never was! Therein lies the rub.

He finds, as vexing age creeps upon him, that perhaps this version (or vision) of himself as this wild, superior beast that the laws (or rules) of society are beneath him may be be built upon sand rather than firm foundation. With sadness the stallion finally has the acceptance and wisdom to concede that he was NEVER so mighty, so strong, so superior...his teeth fall out the same as everyone else’s.

The stallion wishes that he may change the course of his life...bringing back this ideal to become what he thought he was all along.....BEFORE old age has crept to far up his mane and all is lost...the game is over....his fight is one to stay alive inside as well as out.

My use of archaic terms is in honour of Hopkins. There are (what I think anyway) clever inserts (turns of terns). One must know a tern is a bird for the line to make any sense. We've all heard the term, "If you don't know, pick up a dictionary". I have read a good deal of Poe over the years, and I don't sit down to Poe unless I have a dictionary near, or the whole bloody lot will make less sense.

Thanks again for commenting. I would have thought this poem would generate more views (not so due to the 'ode to Hopkins' part, I think), and more comments as well. I suppose this poem is a little TOO archaic and the references and verbiage is a little more complex than the average reader here would wish to engage in. There is a place for everything, and everything has a place, as it is said.




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