another ballad

[Luckieman]

Just been thrown off another forum (for 'professional' poets) within 30 seconds of posting this ballad, so I'll try here instead;

Song of the Lunatic Pilgrim

All round my hat I wear the green willow
and on my feet the sandal shoon,
for lost am I, who through leafless boughs
looked on old Mother Moon.
I followed the track of the swan on the lake
and, in the wind that blew
among the whispering rushes there
this rose I picked for you.
This rose has thorns both sharp and fine
to prick your finger deep and sore,
but though your blood be hot as fire
you'll never see me more.
For round my hat I wear the green willow
and on my feet the sandal shoon,
and lost am I, who through leafless boughs
looked on old Mother Moon.

[busker]

Just been thrown off another forum (for 'professional' poets) within 30 seconds of posting this ballad, so I'll try here instead;

Song of the Lunatic Pilgrim

All round my hat I wear the green willow
and on my feet the sandal shoon,
for lost am I, who through leafless boughs
looked on old Mother Moon.
I followed the track of the swan on the lake
and, in the wind that blew
among the whispering rushes there
this rose I picked for you.
This rose has thorns both sharp and fine … a rose amid the rushes?
to prick your finger deep and sore,
but though your blood be hot as fire
you'll never see me more.  …. Why?
For round my hat I wear the green willow
and on my feet the sandal shoon,
and lost am I, who through leafless boughs
looked on old Mother Moon.

For a lunatic, the narrator is too self aware.
There is a surfeit of knowing cliches - the lake with its obligatory swans, the rushes, the rose with the thorn, the moon, the leafless boughs. I have never seen a rose bush grow in the rushes. Even if they’re to be found, they wouldn’t be very common. 

The refrain comes too soon. No context is provided for why the lost lunatic pilgrim is any one of the three. In As You Like It, the play provided the context for Under the Greenwood Tree. The poem needs to either be longer, or lose the cliches.

[Luckieman]

Seems the allusions went un-noticed. If you were to sidestep the notion of 'cliche' (which are the allusions) is there anything else you could say?

e.g. - your 'why?' -- because round my hat I wear the green willow - the sign of the rejected lover, as in "the green willow shall be my garland".

Oh, and of course he's a lunatic - one driven mad by the moon.

Does this help?

[busker]

Fair enough, the significance of the green willow evaded me.
In that light, the poem reads as a straightforward one about rejection.

---

The poem reads cleanly, scans well, is technically competent

But…
It doesn’t speak to me because it reads as a pastiche of an elizabethan love song. The lines are there, but not the authenticity. I would like more than the deliberate symbolism of someone who’s set out to writer a love poem for the public. Because there is a surfeit of cliches, such as the moon and the lake and the swan and the rose.

[Luckieman]

Thanks busker.
The moon's significant as the source of the 'lunacy' and 'through leafless boughs' is an invocation of Black Anis, the fiend that pounces on travellers from the branches of trees when the moon is full. She's an aspect of the moon goddess to which the willow is sacred, and I think she's originally the black panther, which is known for that habit. The rose is found as part of the madness and is required for the blood. I suspect what you call cliches are simply well-recognised components of myth which I have difficulty seeing my way in this peice without. But I'm still open to comment once the imagery is understood. And BTW it's very far from a love song - it's partly about vengeance and partly about losing the speaker's soul. But maybe this is all too abstract for modern culture.

[busker]

Thanks busker.
The moon's significant as the source of the 'lunacy' and 'through leafless boughs' is an invocation of Black Anis, the fiend that pounces on travellers from the branches of trees when the moon is full. She's an aspect of the moon goddess to which the willow is sacred, and I think she's originally the black panther, which is known for that habit. The rose is found as part of the madness and is required for the blood. I suspect what you call cliches are simply well-recognised components of myth which I have difficulty seeing my way in this peice without. But I'm still open to comment once the imagery is understood. And BTW it's very far from a love song - it's partly about vengeance and partly about losing the speaker's soul. But maybe this is all too abstract for modern culture.

The moon as a source of lunacy is well understood, though it’s not meaningful when the source of the madness is rejection. The myth is pointless.
Everything else you mentioned is reaching, not sufficiently borne out by the poem, nor particularly interesting.

[Luckieman]

Thanks busker.
The moon's significant as the source of the 'lunacy' and 'through leafless boughs' is an invocation of Black Anis, the fiend that pounces on travellers from the branches of trees when the moon is full. She's an aspect of the moon goddess to which the willow is sacred, and I think she's originally the black panther, which is known for that habit. The rose is found as part of the madness and is required for the blood. I suspect what you call cliches are simply well-recognised components of myth which I have difficulty seeing my way in this peice without. But I'm still open to comment once the imagery is understood. And BTW it's very far from a love song - it's partly about vengeance and partly about losing the speaker's soul. But maybe this is all too abstract for modern culture.

The moon as a source of lunacy is well understood, though it’s not meaningful when the source of the madness is rejection. The myth is pointless.
Everything else you mentioned is reaching, not sufficiently borne out by the poem, nor particularly interesting.

The source of the madness isn't the rejection - it's looking at the moon through the branches, which is sacrilege. Sorry, I think I made the whole premise too complicated.

[wasellajam]

So, I read a few times, shrugged and moved on. I read the crit but not the responses. But this caught me:

The source of the madness isn't the rejection - it's looking at the moon through the branches, which is sacrilege. Sorry, I think I made the whole premise too complicated.

because when my mom with Parkinsonian delusions saw a nonexistent parade out her window I sat in her chair and realized her brain was trying to make sense of the shapes between the branches and leaves.

So I gave the poem another try, looking up green willow and shoon and having more room for the imagery. Some notes.

Just been thrown off another forum (for 'professional' poets) within 30 seconds of posting this ballad, so I'll try here instead;

Song of the Lunatic Pilgrim

All round my hat I wear the green willow
and on my feet the sandal shoon,
Even accepting shoon I can't buy sandal shoon. Strappy shoon, well-worn shoon, leather shoon, anything but the repeated meaning.
for lost am I, who through leafless boughs
looked on old Mother Moon.
I followed the track of the swan on the lake
and, in the wind that blew
among the whispering rushes there
this rose I picked for you.
This is a beautiful sentence, I'm okay with a wild rose among rushes.
This rose has thorns both sharp and fine
to prick your finger deep and sore,
but though your blood be hot as fire
you'll never see me more.
Meh, I can't get over the cliche, intentional or not.
For round my hat I wear the green willow
and on my feet the sandal shoon,
and lost am I, who through leafless boughs
looked on old Mother Moon.
Fine with the ending.

So, I did in the end read it with as much commitment as I could and am on the fence if what I like is worth it. I'll read your responses now and see if I can get where you're aiming. My guess is I'll be surprised. Thanks for posting.

[milo]

Thanks busker.
The moon's significant as the source of the 'lunacy' and 'through leafless boughs' is an invocation of Black Anis, the fiend that pounces on travellers from the branches of trees when the moon is full. She's an aspect of the moon goddess to which the willow is sacred, and I think she's originally the black panther, which is known for that habit. The rose is found as part of the madness and is required for the blood. I suspect what you call cliches are simply well-recognised components of myth which I have difficulty seeing my way in this peice without. But I'm still open to comment once the imagery is understood. And BTW it's very far from a love song - it's partly about vengeance and partly about losing the speaker's soul. But maybe this is all too abstract for modern culture.

The moon as a source of lunacy is well understood, though it’s not meaningful when the source of the madness is rejection. The myth is pointless.
Everything else you mentioned is reaching, not sufficiently borne out by the poem, nor particularly interesting.

The source of the madness isn't the rejection - it's looking at the moon through the branches, which is sacrilege. Sorry, I think I made the whole premise too complicated.

My favorite poems ever are ones I had to work at a bit so I don't think overcomplicating by itself is a cardinal sin in poetry - as long s you leave a key so the astute reader can figure it out, that should be enough.

Now . . . because I couldn't resist responding to this I am forced by honor to go back and read it and leave substantial feedback.

Dammit - foiled again.

---

Hello

It seems this poem is based on the old folk song - even starting with the same first line.  It is interesting that the title states the N is a lunatic but I never really get that.  What I get from the actual narration:

He's lost.
He's wandering through a landscape.
He talks to the moon.
He picks a rose.
He says goodbye.
That's melancholy, perhaps obsessive, perhaps supernatural.
But nothing particularly establishes lunacy.
If you removed the word Lunatic from the title, I wouldn't necessarily infer madness from the poem.

Is the word lunatic based on the latin word for moon?  Yes.  That is the only connection I make.

There are some strugglee throughout to meet the form like forced rhyme (shoon is a cool word but other than rhyming with moon it adds nothing).  For meter it actually randomly includes a line of Anapaestic tetrameter which calls to itself as being odd and out of place in what is an overly iambic exercise.

Just been thrown off another forum (for 'professional' poets) within 30 seconds of posting this ballad, so I'll try here instead;

Song of the Lunatic Pilgrim

All round my hat I wear the green willow
and on my feet the sandal shoon,
for lost am I, who through leafless boughs
looked on old Mother Moon.
I followed the track of the swan on the lake

  Here we have your strangely anapaestic line.  In addition, there is the inversion which - I guess if you are trying to sound old archaic that is one way to do it but the rest of the language doesn't support it so it comes across more as a parody than true.  Also, why not just fix the meter of "for lost am I who through the leafless boughs"?

and, in the wind that blew
among the whispering rushes there
this rose I picked for you.
This rose has thorns both sharp and fine
to prick your finger deep and sore,
but though your blood be hot as fire

so, here is where we can tell you just don't have enough words so you start padding:

wind that blew?  Please compare this to wind that doesn't blow(???)
thorns both sharp and fine?  - if you are using 2 adjectives you are either padding or you chose the wrong noun (you are padding here)
deep AND sore - ugh, 
blood as hot as fire - it's cliche and forced 

you'll never see me more.
For round my hat I wear the green willow
and on my feet the sandal shoon,
and lost am I, who through leafless boughs
looked on old Mother Moon.

As a whole it doesn't really do anything new or interesting but the craft is the real issue - it leans heavily on forced phrasing, cliche, over modification and poor meter.

Thanks for posting, good luck with it, hopefully some of this helps

[Luckieman]

The moon as a source of lunacy is well understood, though it’s not meaningful when the source of the madness is rejection. The myth is pointless.
Everything else you mentioned is reaching, not sufficiently borne out by the poem, nor particularly interesting.

The source of the madness isn't the rejection - it's looking at the moon through the branches, which is sacrilege. Sorry, I think I made the whole premise too complicated.

My favorite poems ever are ones I had to work at a bit so I don't think overcomplicating by itself is a cardinal sin in poetry - as long s you leave a key so the astute reader can figure it out, that should be enough.

Now . . . because I couldn't resist responding to this I am forced by honor to go back and read it and leave substantial feedback.

Dammit - foiled again.

Maybe it needs some clearer explanation. Looking at the full moon through leaflesss branches is dangerous. Either Black Anis pounces and you're dead or you go mad and are forced to wander for the rest of your life. He goes mad, which makes his lady abandon him, hence the green willow (as in Othello) which is both the mark of a rejected lover and an attempt to propitiate the moon goddess, to whom willow is sacred. But the guy (already mad now, hence the incongruous source of the rose) wants to get back at his ex-lady for dumping him so he visits her one last time and hands her the wounding flower. That's about it - maybe too complicated?

---

So, I read a few times, shrugged and moved on. I read the crit but not the responses. But this caught me:

The source of the madness isn't the rejection - it's looking at the moon through the branches, which is sacrilege. Sorry, I think I made the whole premise too complicated.

because when my mom with Parkinsonian delusions saw a nonexistent parade out her window I sat in her chair and realized her brain was trying to make sense of the shapes between the branches and leaves.

So I gave the poem another try, looking up green willow and shoon and having more room for the imagery. Some notes.

Just been thrown off another forum (for 'professional' poets) within 30 seconds of posting this ballad, so I'll try here instead;

Song of the Lunatic Pilgrim

All round my hat I wear the green willow
and on my feet the sandal shoon,
Even accepting shoon I can't buy sandal shoon. Strappy shoon, well-worn shoon, leather shoon, anything but the repeated meaning.
for lost am I, who through leafless boughs
looked on old Mother Moon.
I followed the track of the swan on the lake
and, in the wind that blew
among the whispering rushes there
this rose I picked for you.
This is a beautiful sentence, I'm okay with a wild rose among rushes.
This rose has thorns both sharp and fine
to prick your finger deep and sore,
but though your blood be hot as fire
you'll never see me more.
Meh, I can't get over the cliche, intentional or not.
For round my hat I wear the green willow
and on my feet the sandal shoon,
and lost am I, who through leafless boughs
looked on old Mother Moon.
Fine with the ending.

So, I did in the end read it with as much commitment as I could and am on the fence if what I like is worth it. I'll read your responses now and see if I can get where you're aiming. My guess is I'll be surprised. Thanks for posting.

"sandal shoon" - Hamlet, act 4 scene 5, Ophelia sings 'How should I your true love know? ...'

"This rose has thorns both sharp and fine
to prick your finger deep and sore,
but though your blood be hot as fire
you'll never see me more."

which bit's the cliche?

many thanks for taking this seriously.

[wasellajam]

So, I read a few times, shrugged and moved on. I read the crit but not the responses. But this caught me:

The source of the madness isn't the rejection - it's looking at the moon through the branches, which is sacrilege. Sorry, I think I made the whole premise too complicated.

because when my mom with Parkinsonian delusions saw a nonexistent parade out her window I sat in her chair and realized her brain was trying to make sense of the shapes between the branches and leaves.

So I gave the poem another try, looking up green willow and shoon and having more room for the imagery. Some notes.

Just been thrown off another forum (for 'professional' poets) within 30 seconds of posting this ballad, so I'll try here instead;

Song of the Lunatic Pilgrim

All round my hat I wear the green willow
and on my feet the sandal shoon,
Even accepting shoon I can't buy sandal shoon. Strappy shoon, well-worn shoon, leather shoon, anything but the repeated meaning.
for lost am I, who through leafless boughs
looked on old Mother Moon.
I followed the track of the swan on the lake
and, in the wind that blew
among the whispering rushes there
this rose I picked for you.
This is a beautiful sentence, I'm okay with a wild rose among rushes.
This rose has thorns both sharp and fine
to prick your finger deep and sore,
but though your blood be hot as fire
you'll never see me more.
Meh, I can't get over the cliche, intentional or not.
For round my hat I wear the green willow
and on my feet the sandal shoon,
and lost am I, who through leafless boughs
looked on old Mother Moon.
Fine with the ending.

So, I did in the end read it with as much commitment as I could and am on the fence if what I like is worth it. I'll read your responses now and see if I can get where you're aiming. My guess is I'll be surprised. Thanks for posting.

"sandal shoon" - Hamlet, act 4 scene 5, Ophelia sings 'How should I your true love know? ...'

"This rose has thorns both sharp and fine
to prick your finger deep and sore,
but though your blood be hot as fire
you'll never see me more."

which bit's the cliche?

many thanks for taking this seriously.

Ha, no luck getting close. I just got shoon as shoes and green willow as mourning. Unlike some other members here, I don't have a head full of Shakespeare, those days are long past and I never knew it by heart, maybe Juliet in the sixth grade. I usually pass over the drenched in allusion poems.

The whole rose/thorn, hot-blooded reads cliche to me, you may have better luck with milo.
And just because Shakespeare wrote sandal shoon that doesn't make it right.

[Luckieman]

So, I read a few times, shrugged and moved on. I read the crit but not the responses. But this caught me:
because when my mom with Parkinsonian delusions saw a nonexistent parade out her window I sat in her chair and realized her brain was trying to make sense of the shapes between the branches and leaves.

So I gave the poem another try, looking up green willow and shoon and having more room for the imagery. Some notes.


So, I did in the end read it with as much commitment as I could and am on the fence if what I like is worth it. I'll read your responses now and see if I can get where you're aiming. My guess is I'll be surprised. Thanks for posting.

"sandal shoon" - Hamlet, act 4 scene 5, Ophelia sings 'How should I your true love know? ...'

"This rose has thorns both sharp and fine
to prick your finger deep and sore,
but though your blood be hot as fire
you'll never see me more."

which bit's the cliche?

many thanks for taking this seriously.

Ha, no luck getting close. I just got shoon as shoes and green willow as mourning. Unlike some other members here, I don't have a head full of Shakespeare, those days are long past and I never knew it by heart, maybe Juliet in the sixth grade. I usually pass over the drenched in allusion poems.

The whole rose/thorn, hot-blooded reads cliche to me, you may have better luck with milo.
And just because Shakespeare wrote sandal shoon that doesn't make it right.

I guess this is the sort of poem that needs 'notes', although to me that wrecks the whole thing - making it a matter of analysis rather than appreciation. About a quarter of my library is dedicated to poetry, plays, mythology and such stuff, so maybe I take that too much for granted, assuming everyone will have the same background.

[busker]

No amount of familiarity with English folklore will lead the reader to infer from the poem that

“ Looking at the full moon through leaflesss branches is dangerous. Either Black Anis pounces and you're dead or you go mad and are forced to wander for the rest of your life. He goes mad, which makes his lady abandon him, hence the green willow”

This is an entire backstory which needs its separate poem, not something you can squeeze into a few stanzas

[Luckieman]

Point taken. You either know the background or the poem fails. AAs I've suggested on the thread - I made it too complicated.