A Requiem For An Outlaw
By Malcholm Dark
In the stillness of life, a soul drowns
in strife
Stop that hammering outside I implore!
But as
night becomes day, a ringing echoes my way
So I move toward the
jail-house door.
Is that singing I hear, so angelic, so clear?
I lean a bit closer to make sure.
But a clack of the lock, reveals
a priest in frock
My last meal is then set on the floor.
"Preacher!" said I. "Tell the truth, do not lie
On this day will your god be appeased?"
With a shake of his
head, these somber words he said
"I am sorry, he will be quite
displeased."
And with time growing short, I take one last snort
From the bottle between my knees.
There are no regrets as
I take those thirteen steps
To the top of the scaffold with ease.
My eyes are now cast on the people who've amassed
Many had made the long haul.
With the trapdoor set, a rope around
my neck
I await the hangman's call.
Weighted sacks at my
feet and a singing so sweet
I stand on the scaffold tall.
Once an outlaw at large, I now make one last charge
With the
snap of my neck, I fall!
"Yes we shall gather at the
river
the beautiful, the beautiful river.
Gather with your neighbors
at the river
as I make my way unto God..."
Comments on "A Requiem For An Outlaw "
-
On Friday, June 4, 2010, lupus tenebrae
(860) wrote:
An incredible write, I felt like I was walking alongside this outlaw all the way to the gallows, well done, thanks for sharing.
-
A former member wrote:
I feel you were following The Raven well done Malcholm.
-
On Friday, May 21, 2010, jonLyndon
(113) wrote:
Very good, almost perfect meter & rhyme; the poem flows as a river & the story unfolds well. Many splendid lines, so I'll mention a couple/few I think need slight change: "a rope around my neck" I'd simply change 'around' to 'round; I feel it would not just work just slightly better, but also captures the Outlaw feel. I'm a bit confused w/ the "snort" from the bottle; feels yer stretching a bit w/ that line for meter. Is the outlaw's hands tied w/ a bottle of wine between his knees which he breathes in? I understand he is a prisoner on his way to the gallows, but even a Preacher would help him to have a final drink. Small critique, it does not alter the overall affect. The final line in the penultimate stanza: he'd have to fall first before his neck would snap: maybe "with the drop the snap! I fall"? Not the best suggestion, I know this poem needs to keep a flawless meter & make sense. Been a long time since I've writ a poem in this style. It's very difficult to do & no one does it better than Poe. Not even the Bard. I like how the final stanza changes meter from the rest of the format and 'God' has the same feel/flow as 'fall', which is odd in metaphor. All that written, this is a very well composed poem; I am tempted to give it a 10, but will snap a 9 (I rarely ever give a 10 as it is). Just a few bits, but still, you are working with a very difficult format. 9.5 if I could. Cheers!
-
On Friday, March 30, 2012, Malcholm Dark
(806) wrote:
Snort is an old metaphor for s short sip or quick drink... usually dealing with whiskey or hard liquor... thanks for the comments, much appreciated...
-
On Friday, May 21, 2010, jonLyndon
(113) wrote:
Heh! Glad Deaths Apostle caught the small typo before I read this; those things just happen. Every good writer needs a good editor. EGWNAGE - we ALL make typos, but it's cool he pointed that out for you.
-
On Sunday, March 21, 2010, Deaths Apostle
(65) wrote:
Again, amazing write...Check out the second stanza though, I believe you meant to say 'your' instead of 'you'
-
On Wednesday, April 14, 2010, Malcholm Dark
(806) wrote:
thanks for the word, I read, I miss, it happens... An outside reader is what we all need at times, thank-you....
-
A former member wrote:
Once again you have amazed me.