So long ago when I was nine,
there was a place that chilled my spine.
A towering wooden ark stood beacon-
to my youthful scare.
For years I played across the street,
its vision dancing in the heat.
Until the sun's time to retreat,
when hallowed fog fills the air.
In this time of day’s surcease-
the beastly facade is stripped bare,
An evil stands solitaire.
By day I peered across the fence,
with nothing but a child’s sense.
The evil seemed to strip away-
when the sun would bear.
An old wood barn stood in the place,
where nary was a ghastly trace.
The horrors there have been replaced,
a dingy barn in disrepair.
If someone saw it passing by-
they would see no danger there.
But the truth I was aware.
I knew of no one else to trust,
and tell some confidant I must.
My brother is the one I chose-
to behold my youthful scare.
My young brother, too saw the beast.
Then combined our young angst increased.
Perhaps the barn would have its feast.
Perhaps, efforts combined, we’d dare.
We knew what ever obstacle-
could be handled if we share.
Haunted still by the barns stare.
We knew in daylight we’d get caught,
so brave the evening was the plot.
We waited until the twilight-
when the sun was just a flair.
The breeze came creeping over hill,
and carried with a ghastly chill.
So overwhelmed our hearts stood still,
wind tingled each sensory hair.
If we hesitate our plan was-
surely doomed to be forswear.
No time left for us to spare.
With no more pause we leapt the fence,
our courage had now grown immense.
The cold hard wires jolt electric-
so we knew we must beware.
We found quite near a sturdy post,
in seconds few, three at the most.
The evil barn was now our host,
in the meadow meant for mares.
The length of wildly waving wheat-
now laid between us and our dare.
Each step heavier to bear.
Half way cross we heard a rumble,
causing each of us to stumble.
Lightning then flashed as terror bolts-
shot shocking waves through the air.
We lost ourselves for but a tick,
the rain came falling down quite quick.
So quickly, did our legs we kick,
for our judgment was impaired.
Much faster then we had hoped-
we were doomed to confront our scare.
Suddenly we reached the lair.
Barely tipping our toes inside,
Just from the rain we tried to hide.
Too late of course, our heads now were-
covered with sopping wet hair.
We shivered and trembled with fear,
thunder struck, unable to hear.
Into the darkly barn we peered,
frozen in our silent stare.
Then came a bolt of lightning crash-
ripping through near by air.
Thus revealed the haunted lair.
The blue lights hue so splashed the ark,
showed depth in the cathedral dark.
As if this giant timber beast-
was lost in aging of despair.
Much braver then, we did become.
Our combined courage we did sum,
We journeyed into the barns glum.
All our senses spiked aware.
The old barn appeared so shabby-
with hay piles everywhere.
Gothic yes but not a scare.
Barn was no longer a specter,
Instead now was our protector.
Awe inspired by this feeling-
with none other to compare.
Blissfully we did explore,
the layers within this lair of yore.
For now this barn we did adore,
having confronted our scare.
For years after we freely went-
back to and fro with out care.
Conquering for all my scare.
|
Author notes
The picture is the actual barn from the story and was taken in black in white by my mother Debralynn.
A few people here compared my style to Edgar Allen Poe... This is of course not true because he is one of the greatest poets of all time and did this sort of thing with ease.
However I wanted to see if I could do what he did. The answer is a short and sweet no. I am using the exact syllable count and rhyme scheme from 'The Raven' his most famous work. First major difference of course is that I am writing about a childhood memory of an old barn across the street from my house, where as he was writing about a long lost love and the torment that goes with it. The next major difference is that he had 18 stanzas maintaining his brilliant rhyme scheme and story schematic. My poem has 9 stanzas and is barley able to cling to the structure of the story.
Please be sure that I would never compare myself to Poe, for I have tried to walk a mile in that mans shoes and they are surely not to be trifled with.
Please be brutal for anyone trying something like this must learn the god awe full truth up front!
Comments
1 - 13 of 13
-
You make me shudder
I've been shuddering ever since I first heard you kids went into that barn. Reading this made it even worse. Every gray hair I may someday get on my head will be named after you and your brother. If I ever get my scanner out, I will send you a picture I took of that actual barn. I didn't think of it as scary when I took it, but I will now. Good job with the poem.
-
-
Scary
If it wasn't scary to look at then why did you shudder when you read? =) -
-
Because...
When I photographed it I was seeing it as a picturesque old dilapidated building, not as a place where my children were going to be playing. (without my knowledge, obviously)
-
-
-
I can't say enough about this!
I love the suspense created by reading this story as a poem. since the words are not arranged in a simple paragraph/sentence structure it fills each stanza with a resistance and builds emotional tension.
I love the play between the barn during the day day and the same structure at night. The contrast is stark and vivid. I can absolutely picture it in my mind, it seeming so docile then with a moonlit sky it transforms into a wicked dungeon. So exciting!
I love the end how the fear was ran down and conquered despite the thunderstorm. The rhythm and rhyme throughout the poem amplified the readers experience, it was like purely musical.
I never had a hard time following what was being said, I never felt lost or overwhelmed by your language or structure. every stanza flowed smoothly to the next, yet maintained its power.
You really are incredibly gifted.
Peace
Carly
language: 5, rhythm: 5, subject: 5, tone: 5, form: 5.
-
-
Thank you so much!
This was the most time I had ever spent working on one poem (5 days). I am so glad you liked it. True story.
-
-
The truth is you are to hard on your self. It was good. As I was reading I noticed that I was slowly creeping to the edge of my seat as the story whent on. It caught my attention. Whitch also must have ment that it flowed well because I would not have been able to get that into it otherwise. And I also like the message about conquring fears. I didnt want to end up in my monitor if it had a bad ending! Great job!!!
language: 5, rhythm: 5, subject: 5, tone: 5, form: 5.
-
-
Thank you
I did work my butt off on this piece so I am very glad to see that you liked it. Thank you for the words of encouragement.
-
-
Nicely done! I can't compare you to Poe, because truthfully i've never read his writings. I enjoyed the imagery and feel of it. It kept me hooked to the very end. Favorite line: "The evil barn was now our host,
in the meadow meant for mares"
-
Ok, this was a lot to read and at some points i had to stop for a while then read again. The images were quite clear and i can see some areas by which you were merely clinging to the structure, nonetheless this is quite a feat and that alone is worth applauding.
The major difference i suppose is that the raven had dialog, and that gave it a different dimension, but then again that was 18 stanzas.
The narrative was interesting and the barn was brought to life. I find it hard to critique this as the attempt was to emulate a particular form of poetry and i think you have done that.As you wrote in your author's note there is a difference between you and poe, but i think as a poet, you've done well here. I can only imagine the effort put into this.
-iphios -
on the contrary enoq...
I think you have done a wonderful job here, you pulled me in and kept me wrapped up feeling that I was right there with you until the end. I loved the imagery.
"its vision dancing in the heat.
Until the suns time to retreat,
when hallowed fog fills the air.
In this time of day’s surcease-
the beastly facade is stripped bare,
An evil stands solitaire."
The wording you chose here is absolutely wonderful.
"The blue lights hue so splashed the ark,
showed depth in the cathedral dark.
As if this giant timber beast-
was lost in aging of despair.
Much braver then, we did become.
Our combined courage we did sum,
We journeyed into the barns glum.
All our senses spiked aware.
The old barn appeared so shabby-
with hay piles everywhere.
Gothic yes but not a scare."
I loved the way that you chose to describe the lightening, lighting up the barn in this stanza, as well as the feelings that seeing the true form of the barn gave. Great job here in my opinion.
I could pull out every stanza in this poem and have more than one thing positive to say about it. I thought that this was a wonderful poem before I read the fact that you wrote it using the exact syllable count and rhyme scheme of another, and I now have to give the poem even more respect because you managed all of this while doing that. Great read!
-
-
Thank you
That means a lot to me because out of all my poems on this site this would definately be the one I worked the hardest on so far.
-
-
This is wonderful. I must admit I have actually tried to use the sructure of "The Raven"by Poe and the ending result was so terrible, I shredded the paper it was on and threw away the pen, and then didn't write for about a week as a punishment. You, however, have no need of that extremes. You really pulled it off with great imagery and the feel that I was reading a classic!
Lake. -
-
As always
You are too kind. Thank you.
-
Adding your comment:
1 - 13 of 13
