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  1. Turgonian's Avatar
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    #1

    It’s been a long time since I was a frequent visitor to the Plaza, a ‘regular poster boy’ as you might say. However, I cherish fond memories of that time, and it helped me to be diligent and eager in writing poetry. Hopefully this thread will gently spur me to be a bit more active in stringing euphonious words together.<?: prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

    Today is my eighth Plazanniversary, which I would like to commemorate with gratitude and a poem.

  2. Turgonian's Avatar
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    #2
    Of Plaza times


    I lived for fantasy and poetry,<?: prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />
    thirsting for symbols and significances,
    discussing canonical books
    not dictated by a supreme judge
    but written by a middle-aged Englishman
    born before the wars,
    who found a new home of friends
    in the interbellum truce:
    professors of one mind and shared beers,
    digging their comfortable hobbit-holes
    among the roots of languages.
    I carved my pagan niche
    of less-than-ultimate import;
    with weighty tales of destiny
    in a world of fading beauty
    I fended an absolute fear.
    I received an education there
    at the feet of fairyland teachers,
    I befriended creatures who lived
    beyond the great sea.
    I have gone into Faërie
    and I have returned.

    My devotion waned;
    life gnawed at my time;
    complexity overgrew
    the simple exchange of words;
    the great spaces of liberty
    were covered with rows of housing
    and construction sites,
    with a church in the middle.
    I miss my niche,
    so small on the outside,
    so big on the inside.

    Yet what if Sarehole’s ancient mill
    was raised out of the ground,
    or reaching Cuiviénen’s lake
    we heard its waters’ sound?

  3. Lady Aikári's Avatar
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    #3
    <DIV =WebWizRTE marginwidth="1" marginheight="1" leftmargin="1" topmargin="1">Turgonian: It is sure a joy to see you back *g* I know you are longer around than only today. Welcome in the Cottage (again I hope). I am not certain if you had threads here in the past, but I got a feeling you had. A very great poem you made about the old days. This is truly something to be shared, I like it very much. The last four lines most obvious is the rhyme in sentence two and four. Happy Plazaversary! This year in my eighth too, but I got to wait another six month before celebration. Feel amazing huh? I guess if someone would have said ten years ago that we would be members of an lotr website for eight or moreyears, I guess we would not believed it and declared him nuts. It is cool you are back again, and I do hope you enjoy it. I hope you keep us 'entertaining'here too with new updates for poems. I am curious to moreworks of you.

  4. Maldir Ethring's Avatar
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    #4
    First and foremost, happy Plazaversary! What a moving poem you've graced us with Turgonian, I've only been here on the Plaza for three years now, but still, I can relate to the feelings within this poem. Truly, you have a wonderful way with words and I hope to see more from you soon here.



  5. Tarawen's Avatar
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    #5


    Turgonian--I don't think I knew you when I was new to the Plaza in 2009, but as Maldir said I can definitely empathize with the emotions you've expressed in this poem. I adore the lines:

    I received an education there
    at the feet of fairyland teachers,
    Says it all, in my opinion, of reading and discussing Tolkien's works in such an amazing community. Here's hoping we see more of your works in the Cottage!

  6. Turgonian's Avatar
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    #6




    Lady Aikári, thank you! Yes, I have been active in the Cottage in the past; it was my last hideout before I went missing. Thank you for your kind review! Hopefully I'll be able to wish you a happy Plazaversary in June. Maldir, I'm glad my poem sparked some good feelings when it struck your mind, like flint and steel igniting tinder. Tarawen,happy to make your acquaintance;I'm always pleased to meet a Tolkien fan with an eye forthe Elvish or fairylike.We haven't met before, since I dropped off the map of Middle-earth in Spring 2009.Here is a more mournful poem; make of it what you will.Glorigon



    My daughter limps her halting way of grief<?: prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

    through solemn portals of solitude

    where mummified cats stare at her calling

    Glorigon, Glorigon



    The eyes of watchful hunting jackals,

    the mute unshaken steps of brick

    chosen companions of her ceaseless wailing

    Glorigon, Glorigon



    Open lies wasteland and the great razed towns,

    open the walled enclosure with the pool,

    open her heart as unused gates unhinged

    Glorigon, Glorigon



    Quick heart of hers, it overleapt the body

    that was not what she sought, she sought no stone

    or any speechless, cracked and chilly thing

    Glorigon, Glorigon



    Edited by: Turgonian

  7. Wídfara's Avatar
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    #7


    Welcome back and home Turgonian.Happy Plazaversary; belatedas this is. Your first poem speaks to me as it would anyone who has found a soft place to land here, the solace and companionship of like hearts and minds gathered in one place over a common interest and love. I like the lines that tell of how real life intruded or pulled you away. All too true for most at one time or another. Not all find their way back. Glad you did.Glorigon is beautiful. I like my music and poems melancholy for the most part and that fits the bill. I especially liked the image you conjure with open her heart as unused gates unhinged line. Haunting.


  8. Maldir Ethring's Avatar
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    #8
    Oh, how I take heart to reading a poem with dark imagery! Simply put, this is a magnificently written piece of work Turgonian, it's the type of poem I enjoy reading over and over again...not because I have to, because I wantto.



  9. Lady Aikári's Avatar
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    #9
    <DIV =WebWizRTE marginwidth="1" marginheight="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1">Turgonian: Sure it it will happen *g* A good poem the last one. I would think of Egypt with piramids and such, but further in the poem not. I like Glorigon very well. It is mournfull and sad, yet it got some other notes as well.

  10. Turgonian's Avatar
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    #10




    <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Wídfara[/b], <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Maldir[/b], <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Lady Aikári[/b]:
    thank you for reading and writing reviews! Much appreciated. This time I have a
    less gloomy poem for you, one that came to me in Middelburg, the town where my
    old college is located.<?: prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />



    <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Fount of joy[/b]



    <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Fuente de alegría[/i], fount of joy,

    is she
    to me. We rarely meet. Today,

    revisiting
    a town of snow, I called

    at her
    apartment. She, shaken from sleep,

    sent me
    to a café, changed sheets, washed, threw

    the
    garbage out, cleaned, worried. Let me in.

    Eventually.
    Too tense to greet, she points

    at
    towel, shower, toilet, apples, cheese,

    paces
    around, pours tea, remembers stuff

    to pack,
    apologizes, thinks of stuff

    to pack,
    checks bills, is flustered, grabs some stuff

    to pack,
    blow-dries her hair, takes vitamins,

    swallows,
    drinks tea, waits till her friend arrives,

    leaves
    me the keys, goes to the station. I

    pour
    some more tea; she left the tea-light on.

    For a
    short while entrusted with her room,

    I see
    her crystal ashtray full of stubs,

    her
    empty, healthy glass of orange juice,

    the pair
    of teacups facing on the table;

    her
    presence settles, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">fuente de alegría[/i].




  11. Naurusc's Avatar
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    #11
    Turgonian

    I love the Fount of Joy!
    I really enjoyed the way each new line picked up with the flow of the one above it while adding a new
    direction to it. I saw more of that in the beginning than the end but it was great. Each new line had a
    nice and sweet pleasent surprise in it, I felt. Very fitting of a fount of joy. More please

    ... I'm not sure that I've ever seen any poem like this one - the way you used each new line
    to relate to the last one ... it's cool.

  12. Tarawen's Avatar
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    #12


    Ahh, I didn't think we had met way back when. *extends hand for a handshake* Pleased to make your acquaintance!

    I have to say that "Glorigon" caught me by surprise. After reading your ode to the Plaza it was quite the shift, but a very nice one in that it demonstrates your flexibility and versatility as a writer. The poem reminded me of ancient Egypt, perhaps because of the mummified cats and jackals.

    And again you demonstrate how versatile a writer you are with the somewhat stream-of-consciousness style "Fount of Joy." I like the ways the lines break; it lends a certain air of artistry to what might be everyday occurrences. The use of "stuff" might sound too casual in some poems but I think it fits the somewhat disordered state of the woman/girl in the poem. You're a wonderful writer--keep it up!


  13. Lady Aikári's Avatar
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    #13


    Hello again Turgonian, Fuente de Alegria is a nice verse. It is really a moment pointed out from thing to thing, if you must be conscious what is all out there you see. At least so it expresses to me. I like the Spanish title of it, gives another essence. It calls for a cooling breeze in midsummer.

  14. corlisswyn's Avatar
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    #14
    Hi!! I must say, I was pleasantly charmed with the plaza verse. The imagery for Glorigom was quite striking!! Thanks for sharing!!



  15. Morwen Daegomir's Avatar
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    #15


    Hullo, Turgonian! What a lovely thread I have stumbled upon here! First off, your poem Of Plaza Times, is of course very relateable, to any here. It's a nice way of capturing the feeling the Plaza brings us, and the regrets we've felt at times when RL takes over. It made me feel rather nostalgic.
    Glorigon- Simply haunting. And as for Fount of Joy, I simply love the feel of the poem.. Chaotic and warm.. kind of jumbled in a wonderful way. That's the only way I can think to describe it.

    Thank you for sharing!


  16. Morgan la Fée's Avatar
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    #16


    I don't even know how to begin.. I have only recently returned to Plaza myself, don't know how long this 'visit' will last, and noticing this thread, couldn't help but be very pleased. More things than my username have changed - I was Feowen back in the day, perhaps you remember - but my utter delight at your poetry isn't one of them.

    Of Plaza times is very relatable indeed, but my favourite of the three is definitely The Fountain of Joy -- the enjambments alone could have done it, but more than that, the way you treat the most mundane of actions, populating them with meaning that the reader can only guess at, that nonetheless casts a tender, luminous presence of the whole poem, makes it so singularly emotive.

    So, Turgy, well met, again. I hope very much to read more, and regularly


  17. Maldir Ethring's Avatar
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    #17
    You are ever the envisioning laureate Turgonian, Fount of joy is quite a remarkable piece of Free-style poetry ( Can't rightly say if it's anything other, but it very well might ). After reading it a few times, I find myself in a state of contented calmness... I find it to be a well-versed reflection in proving that the little things in life do count.



  18. Turgonian's Avatar
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    #18


    I hope all you good people will forgive my long absence. The intervals at which I find time to write can stretch themselves out quite a bit; even then, not everything I write is for the Plaza. But let my express my gratitude to all who have left a comment.Tsermina, thank you for going into detail about Fount of joy; it is encouraging to hear the poem's shape resonate. Back in the day, when life was slower,a Plaza friend and I cherished commenting on prosody; she certainly helped me to be more attentive to sounds. Tarawen, pleased to meet you too! I was thinking of Egypt (to be precise and confessional: of Tomb Raider), but not all through the poem, and you noticed it. Lady Aikári, it is a good thing when a poem written in February makes you wish for a cooling breeze in midsummer: some young ladies do give the impression of being somewhat overheated! corlisswyn, you're welcome; thank you for your appreciation! Morwen Daegomir, "jumbled in a wonderful way" also describes the young lady in question very well, I think. Maldir, ha, in fact Fount of joy is blank verse or iambic pentameter -- inspired by your own efforts! But you are quite right: it is the little things that make the big picture, small exuberant details thatfill the plenitude of the whole.And Morgan la Fée (or Feowen).Well met indeed, friend!It is a special pleasure to meet you here again, whether in passing or not! Your words are beautiful and I thank you for them. May I add it also delights me to face you again on the field of honor, the IR Poetry Match, together with our respective teammates? I hope you will return once in a while.Thefollowing poem is not tender like the last one;I wrote it in the train,inspired by the Biblical psalms and prophets, as well as the current liturgical time of Lent. But whatever the depth of your acquaintance with Scripture and liturgy, I hope you will appreciate this poem as it stands.Ouai MegalopolisAnointed,
    Reconciler, High-Holy Gift-Giver,red
    sun of the might of peace — shiverat
    once with a blow and a throw the foundationsof
    terror in nations; smithereen and burstthe
    stone incantations, the marble song cursed.Ignominious
    dust, kinged and erect,weighs,
    geometrizes, abhors to genuflect;rattle
    their cities of clay more limberlythan
    decayed Ninive! – “The Army of the Arrowis
    poised at the Palace of Justice, a barrow

    of grave-faced scorn. The transports upstream<?: prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

    spew out ten thousandNevi'im and Anawim.

    Tremble with patience awhile. To your city

    comes wrath and pity. For
    break or for bend,the
    Forty Days’ Truce is drawing to an end.

  19. Morgan la Fée's Avatar
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    #19


    Turgonian, it seems that I've not run away yet as I'm wont to do, and even ran straight to the poetry team like you noticed. Except I'm less enthusiastic about that, since I have not written more than a half dozen poems in half as many years, and I did not have to compete against you before

    Not that it detracts from the pleasure of it, however. I'm looking forward to more myself! As for names, Fee will do as before, as well as Morgan or Feowen.

    Now, for the new poem. It's a brainy one, and I admire how masterfully you fit unweildy words like geometrize or ignominious in it. This line especially

    Tremble with patience awhile.

    stands out to me in its -- irony, almost? Perhaps only I see it there, as the tone of the poem would contradict it. It's deliciously oxymoronic, though not really, in its juxtaposition to the common usage of both words and sentiments involved.



  20. Lady Aikári's Avatar
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    #20
    <DIV =WebWizRTE marginwidth="1" marginheight="1" leftmargin="1" topmargin="1">Turgonian: It is good to see you again. *g* I appreciate very well poetry and literature inspired from the religious corner. I have been in a catholic elementery school. Great this poem, I like it very much. I think I understand it more in feeling than in thought. I could feel God's power in it.

  21. Maldir Ethring's Avatar
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    #21
    Such vivid imagery you've bestowed upon usTurgonian, I cannot help but envision an ancient Cartouche being decimated, or, more so, completely obliterated in the first half of your poem. The line that stands out to me most that strongly supports this vision of mine is :
    rattle their cities of clay more limberly . Makes me think of a claymore mine exploding even though it's of a different time.



  22. Sil's Avatar
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    #22
    Glorigon

    A kyrielle! A hymn - immediately made possessive, familial; and yet keeping the heavy rhythms of iambic pentameter, slowed down by your following alliteration, breaking out of the rhythm into slower cadence. "Solemn portals of solitude". Ponderous. And unlikely; for dead creatures to watch, as Aikari says, a touch of Egypt, but that is not the impression I get at all. Perhaps it is the very word Glorigon, with the open vowels, like the open portals, strangely marmoreal. I love your unlikely pairings. "mute unshaken steps". Catachresis with every step. It is almost reminiscent of the jeremiads - o daughter of Jerusalem! and the likening of a woman to a city, or a city to the woman, is as ancient as scripture and yet a modern metaphor. And this must be something present; she is your daughter. Open, open, open, a repetition that belies the kyrielle's cry that all must be as it is, the pattern already set.

    And the pace picks up. As the iambs return. Open the walled enclosure with the pool! Unused gates unhinged! More repetition, more speed, and the heart beats faster and faster, until the lines overflow - halted by the plosives of the speechless, cracked and chilly thing; lines of such hatred, dear one.

    And no full stop. Does this lament continue, the heart half-beating?

    Contra Vires Mordoris Nulla Quit Esse Victoria!



  23. Morwen Daegomir's Avatar
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    #23


    Hey again, Turgonian! Grand to see you gracing this lovely corner of the Plaza with your shiny new face!
    Ouai Megalopolis is a very interesting poem. I grew up in a very catholic small town, and ended up going to a small private catholic school for my first 8 years of schooling, and so I am relatively familiar with the concepts of the poems make-up. However, I find myself constantly realizing how little I really do know! This poem is fascinating from either aspect; it is well-written, and I should think anyone could appreciate it, whether they had such background or not. I really enjoyed these lines:"the
    stone incantations, the marble song cursed."
    I find myself liking the imagery/idea produced by this.

    I always enjoy stopping by- thank you for sharing!



  24. Turgonian's Avatar
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    #24
    Fee, yes, let us whet our harpstrings and have at it! I am glad you noticed the line "Tremble with patience awhile"; Istole it fromCharles Williams. In Mount Badon, a poem in the Taliessin cycle, the poet-captain Taliessin surveys the barbarians from his saddle, waiting for King Arthur's command to engage "in a passion of patience". Williams plays on the shared etymological origin -- patior, "to suffer, to undergo" --but suggests the opposite meaning: activity, the actof restrained concentration. The hungering and thirsting for righteousness is somewhat similar, I think.

    Lady Aikári, your words were most encouraging; thank you! There is no better response to a religious poem than "I could feel God's power in it."

    Maldir, you too have been struck by the violence, I notice. What is a cartouche? I could not find an applicable meaning. As for "claymore", that's awesome and entirely unintended -- I had to look up the word...

    Silendra, your review is suffused with your own style and erudition; thank you for lingering, savouring, and taking the trouble to write. Marmoreal? That's a nice description; and it suggests that even if I try to go a bitEgyptian, I still end up with something classically Greek!

    Toast Face (I sound rude, forgive me), thanks for the compliment. Being Argonath, one has big shoes to fill: four of them, in fact. Anyhow, I am glad Ouai Megalopolis resonated with you. You are always welcome here!

    Here is a poem to commemorate my "shiny new face!"

    Argonath

    Valandil's House brought form upon the rocks,
    wrought cliffs to likeness. Hammers fought and forced,
    chisels cajoled and scoured the surface smooth.
    Unrightfully some say they tore the stone,
    dislodged it out of place, disturbing, wrenching,
    reducing earth's commanding mass and height
    (yet undefined, sublime in its command)
    to echoes of humanity. 'Sham rocks'
    they called them in their bitter scornfulness.
    Some said the kings were calling in the stone,
    not anxiously, not eager to get out,
    but with a stern, unyielding word of might.

    Now they are Argonath. Now pass the boats
    and now the Pillars of the Kings try hearts,
    with warding hands and weapons weatherworn:
    sons of Elendil, heirs of Númenor,
    whose kingship taught the very stone to frown,
    yet also to call forth into the dark
    the exiled king's solemnity: FEAR NOT.

  25. Lady Aikári's Avatar
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    #25
    <DIV =WebWizRTE marginwidth="1" marginheight="1" topmargin="1" leftmargin="1">Turgonian: I have some experience how to respond to religious things. Ah the Argonath, I see right away the beautiful oversight from the movies. You expressed them well, calling stone to life and still making it ancient again. For that is what they are in Aragorn's time. A poem dedicating the subject, well written.

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