Tag Archives: Swinburne

Swinburne Cross-Rhyme Octave

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This form is derived from the poem Rococo (and another I forget) by Algernon Charles Swinburne.

The form is: Stanzaic, consisting of Octaves
Syllabic, each quatrain consisting of 7/6/7/6 syllables
Metric: Iambic trimeter, with odd numbered lines being feminine rhymed.
Rhymed: ababcdcd or abababab.

My example
I Went Topless
I Went Topless
Then boldness was discovered, 
bikini’s came to be! 
More skin became uncovered 
by girls with spirits free. 
Our stream was well secluded 
and stood upon our farm, 
and thus the girls concluded 
we’d play there without harm. 
And younger than all others 
I had no breasts to hide 
But Jane had tits like mother’s 
and seemed most satisfied. 
While Sally looked most slender 
and tied her top on tight 
the buxom would engender 
in males a keen delight. 
We frolicked flaunting boldness 
where we were all alone, 
enjoyed the water’s coldness 
enjoyed what flesh was shown. 
I saw more than intended – 
that filled my mind with joy, 
for of all who attended 
I was the only boy. 
© Lawrencealot – May 3, 2014
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Swinburne Cross-Rhyme Octave

Swinburne Quatrain

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This form is based upon Algernon Charles Swinburne’s “Faustine”

It is:
Stanzaic, four or more quatrains
Metric: Alternating iambic tetrameter and iambic bimeter
Rhymed abab cbcb dbdb, etc.
Word Refrain: L4 final two-syllable word.

My Example
Celest
 Celeste2
The wranglers and the sheep men came
      to town to rest
and raise some hell and find a dame
      like sweet Celeste.
`
They’d play some cards and take a bath
      then do their best
to be the first to trod a path
      unto Celeste.
Most every man thought other girls
      were second best
to looks and legs and raven curls
      of dark Celeste.
And sometimes even married men
      it’s been confessed,
would come to quench a thirsty yen
      for warm Celeste.
Since she could pick and choose each night
no one transgressed
for she’d not tolerate a fight,
petite Celeste.
When men showed class and manners they
      could be the guest
and leave the bar at end of day
        with dear Celeste.
But many others she’d excite
      as night progressed
by sitting on their laps – the light
      and lithe Celeste.
The pastors son, forbidden (though
      he was obsessed)
was never able, that we know,
      to touch Celeste.
He’d watch her walking to the bar-
      his love repressed,
and watch with wonder from afar
      the rare Celeste.
When outlaws came to town and chose
      then to molest
the gals – the preacher’s son arose
      to help Celeste 
The bandits left the preacher’s son
      quite unaddressed
and with a rifle he killed one
      who touched Celeste.
That turned the tide and folks refused
      to be oppressed.
The terror quickly was defused
      for sweet Celeste.
She went to church the Sunday next
      and finely dressed,
and left the townfolk all perplexed,
      did calm Celeste.
She sat next to the boy that day;
      their love progressed.
In autumn the boy moved away
      with his Celeste.
© Lawrencelot – May 9, 2014 

Swinburne 7776

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This is an octain form patterned on Algernon Charles Swinburne’s “Before Dawn.”

I simply named this form after it’s syllable pattern since Swinburne created several distinct octave forms.

It is:

Stanzaic: consisting of any number of octains.

Metered: Iambic Trimeter.

Rhyme pattern: aaabcccb, where only the b-rhymes are masculine.

Before Dawn by Algernon Charles Swinburne

SWEET LIFE, if life were stronger,

Earth clear of years that wrong her,

Then two things might live longer,

Two sweeter things than they;

Delight, the rootless flower,

And love, the bloomless bower;

Delight that lives an hour,

And love that lives a day.

From evensong to daytime,

When April melts in Maytime,

Love lengthens out his playtime,

Love lessens breath by breath,

And kiss by kiss grows older

On listless throat or shoulder

Turned sideways now, turned colder

Than life that dreams of death.

This one thing once worth giving

Life gave, and seemed worth living;

Sin sweet beyond forgiving

And brief beyond regret:

To laugh and love together

And weave with foam and feather

And wind and words the tether

Our memories play with yet.

Ah, one thing worth beginning,

One thread in life worth spinning,

Ah sweet, one sin worth sinning

With all the whole soul’s will;

To lull you till one stilled you,

To kiss you till one killed you,

To feed you till one filled you,

Sweet lips, if love could fill;

To hunt sweet Love and lose him

Between white arms and bosom,

Between the bud and blossom,

Between your throat and chin;

To say of shame—what is it?

Of virtue—we can miss it;

Of sin—we can but kiss it,

And it’s no longer sin:

To feel the strong soul, stricken

Through fleshly pulses, quicken

Beneath swift sighs that thicken,

Soft hands and lips that smite;

Lips that no love can tire,

With hands that sting like fire,

Weaving the web Desire

To snare the bird Delight.

But love so lightly plighted,

Our love with torch unlighted,

Paused near us unaffrighted,

Who found and left him free;

None, seeing us cloven in sunder,

Will weep or laugh or wonder;

Light love stands clear of thunder,

And safe from winds at sea.

As, when late larks give warning

Of dying lights and dawning,

Night murmurs to the morning,

“Lie still, O love, lie still;”

And half her dark limbs cover

The white limbs of her lover,

With amorous plumes that hover

And fervent lips that chill;

As scornful day represses

Night’s void and vain caresses,

And from her cloudier tresses

Unwinds the gold of his,

With limbs from limbs dividing

And breath by breath subsiding;

For love has no abiding,

But dies before the kiss;

So hath it been, so be it;

For who shall live and flee it?

But look that no man see it

Or hear it unaware;

Lest all who love and choose him

See Love, and so refuse him;

For all who find him lose him,

But all have found him fair.

Pasted from <http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/before-dawn-7/>

My example poem

Putting Decorum Before ‘Em (Swinburne 7776)

I turned and saw you staring
and knew you were comparing
my dress with girls more daring
than shyness lets me be.
Some say my clothes are fusty,
well it’s because I’m busty
and seem to make men lusty
when there’s too much to see.

While I’m too shy for posing
and chesty flesh exposing
I find myself supposing
that I could test the guys.
I’ll lean across the table
like Greta did with Gable
and see if you are able
to look me in the eyes.

© Lawrencealot – July 31, 2014

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Swinburne 7776

Swinburne's Sestet

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The form is patterned after Algernon Charles Swinburne’s “Ilicet”

It is stanzaic, consisting of any number of sestets.
It is metered, written in iambic tetrameter.
It is rhymed: aabccb, with all but the b-rhymes being feminine.

My example poem
Retribution – Part 1 (Swinburne Sestet)
The desert stretched before the brothers
with air that clings and nearly smothers
and things that live here go to ground.
Now only driven desperation
could make them risk the dehydration
that others crossing here had found.
The renegades had raped and slaughtered
both Henry’s wife and teen-aged daughter
while Tom and he had been away.
The men had now a fearful mission
and they would kill with no contrition
but first they had to live today.
Their water gone, their strength was failing.
Despite the sun, Tom’s face was paling
The waterhole was miles ahead.
Now… just ahead- they were arriving
the waterhole that meant surviving,
without the water they’d be dead.
The spring was poisoned by the outlaws
their evil, dammit, was without flaws.
In it were bloated putrid sheep.
The sun was hot and acted willing
to help them with their slow distilling
enough to drink then more to keep.
The next two days they traveled nightly
and persevered ’til sun shone brightly.
They set their horses free to roam
in foothills. To continue healthy
their only movements must be stealthy.
or death would call these mountains home.
Each bandit kept his horse and cattle-
delighted with their ill-gained chattel
and forced therefore to stick to trails.
The brothers both had served as trackers
and army scouts, and were not slackers,;
they were in fact as hard as nails.
One had a crossbow, one a rifle
both carried knives to wreak reprisal.
Now vengeance was their only aim.
The renegades had thrived on terror,
but their last raid had been an error
now retribution surely came.
© Lawrencealot – July 21, 2014
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The Swinburne

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      • The Swinburne is a stanzaic form patterned after Before the Mirror by Algernon Charles Swinburne (1837-1909).The Swinburne is:
        • stanzaic, written in any number of septets.
        • metric, L1,L3,L5, & L6 are trimeter, L2 & L4 are dimeter, and L7 is pentameter.
        • rhymed ababccb dedeffe etc, L1 & L3 have feminine or falling rhyme.
This named form was documented by Judi Van Gorder, on her most wonderful resource site: Poetry Manum Opus, in a section about poetry form named after English poets.
Note: In addition to the specifications above, it is also required that the sixth syllable in Line 7 rhyme with lines 5 and 6.

Before the Mirror
I.
WHITE ROSE in red rose-garden
Is not so white;
Snowdrops that plead for pardon
And pine for fright
Because the hard East blows
Over their maiden rows
Grow not as this face grows from pale to bright.
Behind the veil, forbidden,
Shut up from sight,
Love, is there sorrow hidden,
Is there delight?
Is joy thy dower or grief,
White rose of weary leaf,
Late rose whose life is brief, whose loves are light?
Soft snows that hard winds harden
Till each flake bite
Fill all the flowerless garden
Whose flowers took flight
Long since when summer ceased,
And men rose up from feast,
And warm west wind grew east, and warm day night.
II.
“Come snow, come wind or thunder
High up in air,
I watch my face, and wonder
At my bright hair;
Nought else exalts or grieves
The rose at heart, that heaves
With love of her own leaves and lips that pair.
“She knows not loves that kissed her
She knows not where.
Art thou the ghost, my sister,
White sister there,
Am I the ghost, who knows?
My hand, a fallen rose,
Lies snow-white on white snows, and takes no care.
“I cannot see what pleasures
Or what pains were;
What pale new loves and treasures
New years will bear;
What beam will fall, what shower,
What grief or joy for dower;
But one thing knows the flower; the flower is fair.”
III.
Glad, but not flushed with gladness,
Since joys go by;
Sad, but not bent with sadness,
Since sorrows die;
Deep in the gleaming glass
She sees all past things pass,
And all sweet life that was lie down and lie.
There glowing ghosts of flowers
Draw down, draw nigh;
And wings of swift spent hours
Take flight and fly;
She sees by formless gleams,
She hears across cold streams,
Dead mouths of many dreams that sing and sigh.
Face fallen and white throat lifted,
With sleepless eye
She sees old loves that drifted,
She knew not why,
Old loves and faded fears
Float down a stream that hears
The flowing of all men’s tears beneath the sky.

Algernon Charles Swinburne
Example poem
Caretaker      (The Swinburne)
When forced to go and going
with all due haste,
you leave already knowing
there must be waste.
I never, as a boy
expected old man’s joy
at seeing an old toy I had misplaced.
The things you leave behind you
are not all done.
They’re simply tasks assigned to
another one.
When your life takes a turn
the habits you adjourn
may tickle Time who spurns a lack of fun.
© Lawrencealot – May 8, 2014

Swinburne Decastitch

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This form combining the rhyming pattern of an interrupted Petrachan Sonnet, with the breathing  cadence of common meter may have somewhere been used before, but it was definitely used and captured for us by Algernon Charles Swinburne in his “A Ballad of Death”.
I merely record it here and give it a name by which we can refer as we attempt to write such poems of our own.
It is stanzaic, consisting of any number of stanzas.
It is Syllabic: 10/10/6/10/10/10/6/10/10/10
It is Rhymed: abbacdecde
It is composed in iambic meter.
Example Poem
Cultural Patrimony     (Swinburne Decastitch)
When any culture deems it right to maul
and kill, inflicting pain, can you explain
away my great disdain?
Can you excuse the citizens and all
who legislate and rule who use as tool
the very worst impulses of man’s mind?
Against such things let’s rail!
We simply cannot fool ourselves- it’s cruel
to torment any species that we find.
With that in mind I’d like to tell this tale.
Young boys are often wooed by danger’s taunt
and while still teens endeavor to learn skills
to please the crowds with thrills.
‘Tis machismo alone that these boys flaunt,
and doubtlessly they want to earn the fame
accruing to the greatest in this “sport”
so fam’lies can be proud.
And many boys who play this dangerous game
will end up lame or have their life cut short
where death and torture’s commonly allowed.
In training some are killed or truly maimed.
and never set their feet into bull’s ring.
This is an honored thing!
But culture failing still persists unnamed,
where people think this cost perhaps is small;
and small it well may be when men have learned
compassion has no role.
If humankind is not herewith appalled
by acts dispensing pain where it’s unearned
each man accepts canker on his soul.
When man pits bull against a lion foe,
again to entertain and titillate,
we each should fee self-hate.
The gladiator games we must outgrow,
like burning ants and pulling off fly’s wings.
Each species may do harsh things to survive.
But evil has its cost.
When man accepts it’s right to torture things
which share our space and roam our earth alive,
compassion for all life will soon be lost.
© Lawrencealot – April 13, 2014
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Sestina – Swinburne's Double

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Swinburne’s Double Sestina
Type:
Structure, Metrical Requirement, End Word Requirement, Isosyllabic
Description:
Algernon Charles Swinburne developed the double sestina, a twelve-line, twelve stanza form with a six line envoi for the masochistic poet.
Impressions:
Not for the faint of heart or taciturn soul.
Attributed to:
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Origin:
English
Schematic:
stanza 1: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12
stanza 2: 12 1 9 11 4 7 2 8 3 10 6 5
stanza 3: 5 12 6 4 7 1 2 3 10 9 11 8
stanza 4: 8 5 7 6 4 12 10 2 3 11 1 9
stanza 5: 9 8 6 10 1 2 7 4 3 12 5 11
stanza 6: 11 9 6 10 4 2 7 1 12 8 5 3
stanza 7: 3 11 7 8 12 1 2 10 5 6 9 4
stanza 8: 4 3 9 6 5 10 1 7 12 11 8 2
stanza 9: 2 4 5 1 3 8 7 10 9 11 12 6
stanza 10: 6 2 9 3 8 1 7 5 10 4 11 12
stanza 11: 12 6 8 4 3 5 9 10 2 1 11 7
stanza 12: 7 12 6 3 9 11 5 8 4 2 10 1
envoy: 12 10/8 9/7 4/3 6/2 1/11 5
Rhythm/Stanza Length:
12
Line/Poem Length:
150
Status:
Incomplete
 A special thanks to Charles L. Weatherford for his work on this site which is always a dependable resouce.
The Double Sestina
This cannot, in all honesty, be recommended… it’s similar to a sestina, but has twelve keywords, twelve 12-line stanzas, and a 6-line tornada, making 150 lines in all. The only example I have been able to find is, heaven help us, a rhymed double sestina, by Swinburne. The keywords are: breath, her, way, death, sunflower, sun, day, bed, thee, dead, done, me (which gives you a fair idea of the flavour of the thing); so the rhyming pairs are (1,4) (2,5) (3,7) (6,11) (8,10) (9,12).  The structure is:
stanza 1: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12
stanza 2: 12 1 9 11 4 7 2 8 3 10 6 5
stanza 3: 5 12 6 4 7 1 2 3 10 9 11 8
stanza 4: 8 5 7 6 4 12 10 2 3 11 1 9
stanza 5: 9 8 6 10 1 2 7 4 3 12 5 11
stanza 6: 11 9 6 10 4 2 7 1 12 8 5 3
stanza 7: 3 11 7 8 12 1 2 10 5 6 9 4
stanza 8: 4 3 9 6 5 10 1 7 12 11 8 2
stanza 9: 2 4 5 1 3 8 7 10 9 11 12 6
stanza 10: 6 2 9 3 8 1 7 5 10 4 11 12
stanza 11: 12 6 8 4 3 5 9 10 2 1 11 7
stanza 12: 7 12 6 3 9 11 5 8 4 2 10 1
tornada: 12 10/8 9/7 4/3 6/2 1/11 5
You may think you want to write one of these, but you really don’t, believe me. And if you should get it into your head that you want to write an unrhymed double sestina, you’re going to have to work out the structure for yourself.
It is with great thanks I applaud Bob Newman’s efforts on his site, and his advice in the instance.  I believe I shall pass on an attempt to write one of these this month. 
The Complaint of Lisa
There is no woman living who draws breath
So sad as I, though all things sadden her.
There is not one upon life’s weariest way
Who is weary as I am weary of all but death.
Toward whom I look as looks the sunflower
All day with all his whole soul toward the sun;
While in the sun’s sight I make moan all day,
And all night on my sleepless maiden bed.
Weep and call out on death, O Love, and thee,
That thou or he would take me to the dead.
And know not what thing evil I have done
That life should lay such heavy hand on me.
Alas! Love, what is this thou wouldst with me?
What honor shalt thou have to quench my breath,
Or what shall my heart broken profit thee?
O Love, O great god Love, what have I done,
That thou shouldst hunger so after my death?
My heart is harmless as my life’s first day:
Seek out some false fair woman, and plague her
Till her tears even as my tears fill her bed:
I am the least flower in thy flowery way,
But till my time be come that I be dead,
Let me live out my flower-time in the sun,
Though my leaves shut before the sunflower.
O Love, Love, Love, the kingly sunflower!
Shall he the sun hath looked on look on me,
That live down here in shade, out of the sun,
Here living in the sorrow and shadow of death?
Shall he that feeds his heart full of the day
Care to give mine eyes light, or my lips breath?
Because she loves him, shall my lord love her
Who is as a worm in my lord’s kingly way?
I shall not see him or know him alive or dead;
But thou, I know thee, O Love, and pray to thee
That in brief while my brief life-days be done,
And the worm quickly make my marriage-bed.
For underground there is no sleepless bed.
But here since I beheld my sunflower
These eyes have slept not, seeing all night and day
His sunlike eyes, and face fronting the sun.
Wherefore, if anywhere be any death,
I fain would find and fold him fast to me,
That I may sleep with the world’s eldest dead,
With her that died seven centuries since, and her
That went last night down the night-wandering way.
For this is sleep indeed, when labor is done,
Without love, without dreams, and without breath,
And without thought, O name unnamed! of thee.
Ah! but, forgetting all things, shall I thee?
Wilt thou not be as now about my bed
There underground as here before the sun?
Shall not thy vision vex me alive and dead,
Thy moving vision without form or breath?
I read long since the bitter tale of her
Who read the tale of Launcelot on a day,
And died, and had no quiet after death,
But was moved ever along a weary way,
Lost with her love in the underworld; ah me,
O my king, O my lordly sunflower,
Would God to me, too, such a thing were done!
But if such sweet and bitter things be done,
Then, flying from life, I shall not fly from thee.
For in that living world without a sun
Thy vision will lay hold upon me dead,
And meet and mock me, and mar my peace in death.
Yet if being wroth, God had such pity on her,
Who was a sinner and foolish in her day,
That even in hell they twain should breathe one breath,
Why should he not in some wise pity me?
So if I sleep not in my soft strait bed,
I may look up and see my sunflower
As he the sun, in some divine strange way.
O poor my heart, well knowest thou in what way
This sore sweet evil unto us was done.
For on a holy and a heavy day
I was arisen out of my still small bed
To see the knights tilt, and one said to me
“The king;” and seeing him, somewhat stopped my breath;
And if the girl spake more, I heard her not,
For only I saw what I shall see when dead,
A kingly flower of knights, a sunflower,
That shone against the sunlight like the sun,
And like a fire, O heart, consuming thee,
The fire of love that lights the pyre of death.
Howbeit I shall not die an evil death
Who have loved in such a sad and sinless way,
That this my love, lord, was no shame to thee.
So when mine eyes are shut against the sun,
O my soul’s sun, O the world’s sunflower,
Thou nor no man will quite despise me dead.
And dying I pray with all my low last breath
That thy whole life may be as was that day,
That feast-day that made trothplight death and me,
Giving the world light of thy great deeds done;
And that fair face brightening thy bridal bed,
That God be good as God hath been to her.
That all things goodly and glad remain with her,
All things that make glad life and goodly death;
That as a bee sucks from a sunflower
Honey, when summer draws delighted breath,
Her soul may drink of thy soul in like way,
And love make life a fruitful marriage-bed
Where day may bring forth fruits of joy to day
And night to night till days and nights be dead.
And as she gives light of her love to thee,
Give thou to her the old glory of days long done;
And either give some heat of light to me,
To warm me where I sleep without the sun.
O sunflower make drunken with the sun,
O knight whose lady’s heart draws thine to her,
Great king, glad lover, I have a word to thee.
There is a weed lives out of the sun’s way,
Hid from the heat deep in the meadow’s bed,
That swoons and whitens at the wind’s least breath,
A flower star-shaped, that all a summer day
Will gaze her soul out on the sunflower
For very love till twilight finds her dead.
But the great sunflower heeds not her poor death,
Knows not when all her loving life is done;
And so much knows my lord the king of me.
Ay, all day long he has no eye for me;
With golden eye following the golden sun
From rose-colored to purple-pillowed bed,
From birthplace to the flame-lit place of death,
From eastern end to western of his way,
So mine eye follows thee, my sunflower,
So the white star-flower turns and yearns to thee,
The sick weak weed, not well alive or dead,
Trod under foot if any pass by her,
Pale, without color of summer or summer breath
In the shrunk shuddering petals, that have done
No work but love, and die before the day.
But thou, to-day, to-morrow, and every day,
Be glad and great, O love whose love slays me.
Thy fervent flower made fruitful from the sun
Shall drop its golden seed in the world’s way,
That all men thereof nourished shall praise thee
For grain and flower and fruit of works well done;
Till thy shed seed, O shining sunflower,
Bring forth such growth of the world’s garden-bed
As like the sun shall outlive age and death.
And yet I would thine heart had heed of her
Who loves thee alive; but not till she be dead.
Come, Love, then, quickly, and take her utmost breath.
Song, speak for me who am dumb as are the dead;
From my sad bed of tears I send forth thee,
To fly all day from sun’s birth to sun’s death
Down the sun’s way after the flying sun,
For love of her that gave thee wings and breath
Ere day be done, to seek the sunflower.
Algernon Charles Swinburne

Swinburne Octain

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This is a refrain poem, the form was one of many un-named forms invented by Algernon Charles Swinburne (1837-1909).

 I  have interpreted the specifications from looking at the work of one of Swinburne’s most dedicated students, AP’s own Eusebius.

 

There are at least TWO significant versions of an octain he created.  This first, presented here is  written in iambic meter, the second  written in trochaic.  The is the first:

 

Rhyming pattern: ABccabAB, where the capital letter indicate verbatim repetition of a line.

The “b” rhymes are all iambic trimeter,  all other lines  are feminine rhymes utilizing footless (or catalectic) iambic tetrameter.

Syllabic:  7/6/7/7/7/6/7/6

 

The first stanza, is repeated as the final stanza of the poem, thus it seems sensible that the minimum poem length should be at least four stanzas.

 

 

The Trochaic version is written with the Rhyming pattern: ababcccb

Syllabic: 9/8/9/8/9/9/9/8

 

The accent is as two trochee feet, an amphibrach and a trochee with all “b” rhymes being catalectic.

Example Poem

 The Tart (Swinburne Octain)

This tart so thin, bewitching,
with beauty, fay and pale.
Her tattoos all parading,
Her ebon curls cascading,
until I am just itching
to see her all in Braille.
This tart so thin, bewitching,
with beauty, fay and pale.

She seems an apparition
both siren myth and tramp,
who sells her pleasures cheaply
to those who want her deeply.
I feel I must audition
to win time with this vamp.
She seems an apparition
both siren myth and tramp,

Her long smooth legs inviting
all who may simply glance.
Though men might once demean her
they’ll dare not come between her
and one she is inviting.
Each man would like his chance.
Her long smooth legs inviting
all who may simply glance.

To me she whispered lightly,
“I’ll show you realms of love.”
Her word were most insightful
Her movements were delightful
I longed to have her nightly
beneath the moon above.
To me she whispered lightly,
“I’ll show you realms of love.”

This tart so thin, bewitching,
with beauty, fay and pale.
Her tattoos all parading,
Her ebon curls cascading,
until I am just itching
to see her all in Braille.
This tart so thin, bewitching,
with beauty, fay and pale. 

© Lawrencealot – June 17, 2013

 

 

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Swinburne Quintet

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I have never seen this formally named anywhere,  but was made famous
by Algerrnon  Swinburnes’  “The Palace of Pan”, and recently popularized by several  works of Eusebius on Allpoetry.com.
I am simply giving it the name so that it may be referenced conveniently.   If this usurps a form of which I am unaware please notify and chastise me quickly.
It is a metrical stanzaic form identified by
Quintets, no minimum specified but clearly meant for longer poems  given
the  first stanza is repeated as the closing refrain.
Each stanza as the syllable form 11/8/11/11/8
with the (independent) rhyme pattern: abaab
Metric requirement: All lines are amphibraic with an ending iamb.
 
Example Poem
Mathematical Assumptions     (Swinburne quintet)
Discoveries brought the theories turned into law
The knowledge base was growing fast.
The Laws helped explain behavior that we saw.
Then Hubble’s was crowned although it had a flaw.
It now fails and thus cannot last.
Yes, Edwin had doubts, but they arrived too late.
The Big Bang advocates made hay.
The red-shift allowed math to now calculate
amazing things, like perhaps Big Bang’s birth date.
Why let such a plum get away?
All parts of Big Bang were ideation borne.
They have to be.  We were not there.
An advanced math model was most fully born,
already tweaked so much some folks felt forlorn.
Dark things needed came from nowhere.
Math models in particle physics have shone
predicting fermions, et. al.
But out of this true success, hubris has grown
until some have come to trust in math alone.
G. I. G. O.*  now seems the call.
Assuming a Big Bang to initiate
their model is now in conflict
with observations scientists can debate-
a notion leaders cannot appreciate.
Our generation has been tricked.
Discoveries brought theories turned into law
The knowledge base was growing fast.
The Laws helped explain behavior that we saw.
Then Hubble’s was crowned although it had a flaw.
It now fails and thus cannot last.
© Lawrencealot – March 9, 2013
*Garbage In Garbage Out
 
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 Swinburne Quintet2

Roundel

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A Roundel is syllabic with 3 Stanzas, 9 lines of the same length, and two shorter refrain lines which must be identical to the beginning of the first line.

There is NO set line length but iambic tetrameter or pentameter is common.

Rhyme Scheme: abaB bab abaB, where B is the refrain after the third line and as the final line of the poem.             

The refrain must be identical with the beginning of the first line: it may be a half-line, and rhymes with the second line.

My Example

Form: Roundel

Summer Awe

Without a doubt you know I’m here
from canine breath I must let out,
that we’re connected souls is clear
Without a doubt.

Your wings move slowly near my snout
as though a greeting without fear.
I love how your kind flits about.

Your brilliant colors do endear;
you dance to flower’s summer shout.
We both hold freedom very dear
Without a doubt.

© Lawrencealot – April 14, 2013

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