By the shores of urPangaea
By the swampland where they labored—
Where they bred, great thunder-Masters,
Where they hunted, tyrant-Masters,
Where they wandered, roof-plate-Masters,
Duckbilled Masters, armored-Masters—
By the swampland shores they wandered,
Wandered herds of massive Masters.
Loud their footsteps where they plodded,
Loud their breathings, loud their crashings
Through the greening under-forest,
Loud the air of urPangaea,
Echoing their potent cries.
Came the Long-Hair slaying daylight
Came the Long-Hair killer stalking,
Stalking through the blue of heaven
Stalking through bright day of night,
Making nighttime burn as daytime,
Turning nighttime on the Masters.
Came the Long-Hair, seeking, slaying,
Slaying Masters with its breath.
Forests burned and forests blistered;
Swamplands died in hissing pain;
Meadows scorched within an instant,
In an instant-life of fire.
Heat-sail-Masters shriveled, screaming,
Screaming fury as they perished;
Winging-darters tumbled earthward,
Earthward shrieking, wings aflame;
Thunder-Masters thundered faster,
Thunder-plodded as they fled;
Tyrant-Masters ceased their hunting,
Ceased to seize with awful jaws
Flying, fleeing, scurrying masters—
All comsumed in Long-Hair’s blaze.
Still the Long-Hair stalked its victims,
Slaked its thirst in victims’ blood—
Mighty Masters fell in moments,
Died in moments where they fell,
Flesh engulfed by Long-Hair’s fury,
Flesh now blackened, crisped and sere.
Still the Long-Hair sought destruction,
Worked destruction on the slaves,
Humble slaves of Thunder-Masters,
Humble, hairless, fingered servants
Cowering in deep shadowed caves.
Long-Hair died amid its flamings,
Died as forests, meadows died;
Long-Hair burned and slaughtered Masters
Slaughtered Masters, forests, seas.
Then came darkness, chilling darkness,
Darkness at the height of noon.
Darkness cloaking starry heroes,
Darkness hiding rampant moons;
Darkness chilling servants, darkness
Leeching color from the skies.
Plants grew paler, spindly, whitened—
Paler as the darkness grew .
Long-Hair’s children—ice and winter—
Made their nests in Masters’ bones.
And the servants, humble servants,
Humble, hairless, fingered servants
Waited in deep shadowed caverns,
Waited, waited for their spring to come.
Author notes
A little bit parody, a little bit pastiche. Cf. Longfellow
A contest entry
- Pangea by Danna Hobart.
390 points, ended October 26, 2007, 8 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Parody, Technique and Humor; Show off your Skill and Wit! Lots of options!! Learn and Laugh! by Bad Poet.
1050 points, ended December 7, 2007, 9 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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A paen to Hiawatha ...
or Longfellow, or just his style of writing. Good job. Congrats on the Gold.
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Mostly just the rhythms, insistent and incantatory.
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This just made this contest a lot harder to judge. Thank you so much for entering. This was a pleasure to read.
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this is great, It reminds me of Longfellow.
good luck in the contest.
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Glad you caught the rhythm. It's fun to take something like "Hiawatha" and write a pastiche based on its rhythms.
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Of course I'm not credentialed to judge, but IMO this poem approaches materpiece. I could spot only 1 line that I thought needed improvement. In the 4th stanza, this line is slightly confusing:
"Humble slaves of Thunder-Masters,"
The preposition "of" creates the confusion suggesting another slave group. This problem is easily fixed by replacing "of" with "the".
"Humble slaves the Thunder-Masters,"
In summation, I think this the finest poem I've ever had the pleasure to read on these boards, micol. I thank you for sharing your craft with us.
A60sMan
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Thank you. I'm awed by the compliment and the careful reading. I'll keep the line as it is, though; the slaves threatened by Long-Hair (the comet) are also the slaves of the Thunder-Masters (dinosaurs...hence the SF touch), so the "of" seems to fit.
But again, thank you so much. I appreciate it.
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