As we know Damien gave readings at two WordTheatre events this week and read some wonderful poems for Forward Prizes for poetry. (more about that here )
Coincidentally the 'Our Homage To Hal' Photo book arrived at Damien's talent agency today and included the written homages of all the entrants.
Here is the poem I wrote in the hope that it inspires you all to write your own and share it here on National Poetry Day!
IT TAKES COURAGE BEING HAL
IT TAKES COURAGE BEING ME
WE'RE NOT THE SAME
THERES NO SIMILARITY
HE STRIVES TO BE HUMAN, SO DO I
I ONLY HAVE ONE FACE
AND HE HAS SO MANY
I LOVE THEM ALL
BUT NEVER SHOW MINE
I FEEL HIS PAIN
BUT NEVER ACKNOWLEDGE MY OWN
HE SPEAKS A LANGUAGE
NOT WITH HIS VOICE
BUT THROUGH HIS EYES
LOVE REALLY IS BLIND
IT TAKES A LOT OF COURAGE BEING HUMAN!
I worked most of it out while walking my dog last night--wanted to respond to Domino's challenge. I love the idea of making every day a poetry day! Maybe we could commission a DaMo reading of our collected works.
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He'd have told me to join him, and I would. - still true!
Okay, here goes. It nearly rhymes and everything...
A Long 500 years
A baby cries
a pitiful wail
a bastard’s beginning
someday all will hail
Innocence dashed
at the youngest of age
he mourns and endures
til no loyalty remains
He runs and he searches
(im)mortality springs
his dreams and ambitions
finally given wing
But deification
is a dark, horrid gift
bathed in blood and tears
leaving him in time, adrift
Cycles of mayhem
killing, destruction - it takes it’s toll
a sprinkling of good
wrestled by discipline and control
Friendships made and lost
lovers found and destroyed
evil waxes and wanes
the ending he longs for, toys
Appetite, HUNGER
the length and breadth inside
he continues his torturous existence
the bloodlust forever his bride
The sleeper waits to be waken
his turn always comes, in time
he only hopes that someday...
he WILL WIN over the monster inside.
by whimsyfox
-- Edited by whimsyfox on Friday 4th of October 2013 11:00:33 PM
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papillon... pamplemousse... bibliothèque... un baiser A lilt in his voice. Every sentence like music... #kisskisskiss A terrible beauty is born. Love me some #Jacksass
As it is no long national poetry day....maybe I can share my other hal homage. I wouldn't dream of calling this poetry (especially in the light of what else has been posted in this thread....they are all beautiful) - but a rhyme, or a verse maybe...... Seeing as I went to all the trouble of writing it out (because I didn't know which one to submit) I've decided to post the pic.
domino, your poem very much captures the essence of Hal!
J-B, I love the mirroring and my favourite line is "He speaks a language, not through his voice but through his eyes" - so true!
fifi, that is so awesome. short and bittersweet. and you did the calligraphy yourself?
TJ, WOW. heartbreaking and breathtaking. truly you move me as always.
I've never been good at poetry. One or two paltry attempts in HS and college. But I did scribble something down this morning. I'll type it up and if it doesn't make me cringe I'll post it.
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papillon... pamplemousse... bibliothèque... un baiser A lilt in his voice. Every sentence like music... #kisskisskiss A terrible beauty is born. Love me some #Jacksass
I always have formatting issues copy-pasting into the forum. the his in "his turn always comes, in time" should be italicized and the forum gremlins are not letting me do it. Not letting me do it in this post either. Bugger!
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papillon... pamplemousse... bibliothèque... un baiser A lilt in his voice. Every sentence like music... #kisskisskiss A terrible beauty is born. Love me some #Jacksass
Hal is a wonderful muse. I could never write anything before.
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papillon... pamplemousse... bibliothèque... un baiser A lilt in his voice. Every sentence like music... #kisskisskiss A terrible beauty is born. Love me some #Jacksass
Wow... I feel so privileged that we have such a talented bunch here at the forum, ALL of these are perfect, all different all truly from the heart and dedicated to Hal. Beautiful.
Fifi, I am so glad you posted your other homage, I would be hard pushed to choose between the two, this one is succinct and powerful because of that, a nugget of specialness.
whimsy, your poem is amazing, and heart wrenching, you really get inside the battle of the Hals.
HalGal, I love this, sometimes the simpler the better..it's perfect... to me it is a metaphor for becoming Hal's fan, well done!
HalGal, that is a perfect metaphor for what happened to me! Hal sunk his fangs in me before I knew what was happening, and here I am, a happy 'fanggirl' for life.
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He'd have told me to join him, and I would. - still true!
Well, the number of victims Hal dealt with is so vast that there are nearly endless variations on the story. Lots of women in lots of situations. In this case, she came close to being his equal.
And a poem can be a fanfic.
-- Edited by tangentially TJ on Sunday 6th of October 2013 02:43:24 AM
-- Edited by tangentially TJ on Sunday 6th of October 2013 02:45:21 AM
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He'd have told me to join him, and I would. - still true!
Always negotiate from a position of strength. My father's words. He wouldn't approve of how I use them to take all I can from the men who crowd around me. But I have what they want; I command the field, and they want me badly, so in the end I get what I need--what I want as well, most nights. And tonight, I want him.
Always negotiate from a position... My own decision. His hungry eyes push me past the edge of caution into the storage shed out the back. His beauty lures me. Still, I control the scene; I give him access, just a taste, so he will follow me home where I can take what I want, give what I want, in lush comfort. Even so, dark and dirty, I want him.
Always negotiate... Out of control. A beast rides us both and I no longer care where or when or how until my selfish ecstasy merges with terror as he rips into my throat. Negotiation turns deadly--not the first time--my little knife slices at his throat in turn. My hidden weapon cannot stop this fierce creature. His blood with mine, and I want him.
Always... Choking on blood. He throws me away and laughs, and returns to whisper in my ear a secret truth, a hidden travesty that will soon become my existence. He will be here when I awaken, because I took him and fought him and drank him as he drank me. We are a duet of nightmares now, he tells me. I'm his, and I want him.
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He'd have told me to join him, and I would. - still true!