I know the Face of Falsehood and Her Tongue
Ahavati
Tams
Forum Posts: 16910
Tams
Tyrant of Words
123
Joined 11th Apr 2015Forum Posts: 16910
Poetry Contest Description
CLASSIC CORNER: Edna St. Vincent Millay
WELCOME BACK TO THE CLASSIC CORNER!
Co-Hosts - Ahavati & JohnnyBlaze
Welcome back to the Classic Corner Competitions, Part XXIX, in an ongoing series introducing serious writers of DUP to the most famous classical and modern poets of our time.
Throughout much of her career, Pulitzer Prize-winner Edna St. Vincent Millay was one of the most successful and respected poets in America. She is noted for both her dramatic works, including Aria da capo, The Lamp and the Bell, and the libretto composed for an opera, The King’s Henchman, and for such lyric verses as “Renascence” and the poems found in the collections A Few Figs From Thistles, Second April, and The Ballad of the Harp-Weaver, winner of the Pulitzer Prize in 1923. Like her contemporary Robert Frost, Millay was one of the most skillful writers of sonnets in the twentieth century, and also like Frost, she was able to combine modernist attitudes with traditional forms creating a unique American poetry. But Millay’s popularity as a poet had at least as much to do with her person: she was known for her riveting readings and performances, her progressive political stances, frank portrayal of both hetero and homosexuality, and, above all, her embodiment and description of new kinds of female experience and expression. “Edna St. Vincent Millay,” notes her biographer Nancy Milford, “became the herald of the New Woman.”
For more information regarding Millay, please visit the Poetry Foundation: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/edna-st-vincent-millay
Guidelines
Write a new poem honoring Millay inspired by any one of her poems.
Do NOT copy paste your poem to the competition, it must be linked to your page with the below information.
Do your best to make us feel as though we are reading poems by Millay. The more we feel you "capturing her essence" in "your own words" , the higher you will score. This will involve choice of wording, delivery, subject material, formatting, target audience, ambiguity - a wide range of factors.
The Rules
1. Two entries per DUP persona.
2. No extreme erotica; this is open to all ages and can't be viewed with an ECW ( Extreme Content Warning ).
3. No exact word limit; however, attempt to keep it no more than 250 - 300.
4. Any form is acceptable ( but studying the poet is advised ).
** EDITED** 5. Webmiss HAS created #EdnaStVincentMillay in the theme list. The page will automatically generate as soon as eight entrants hashtag the theme. Make sure you hashtag her in your themes or you will be disqualified.
6. In your poem's notes, provide links to the poem by Millay that inspired yours. Without this, we have no way of determining if you were truly inspired by Millay, or simply swapped fresh words into her existing poetry and form, which could be considered plagiarism.
Comp will be judged by Ahavati & JohnnyBlaze. As in the past and in the event there is a tie, we will call in third ( and possibly fourth ) judge.
You have one month; best of luck to all entrants!
Ahavati
Tams
Forum Posts: 16910
Tams
Tyrant of Words
123
Joined 11th Apr 2015Forum Posts: 16910
Ahavati
Tams
Forum Posts: 16910
Tams
Tyrant of Words
123
Joined 11th Apr 2015Forum Posts: 16910
[interjection] Webmiss HAS created the theme for #EdnaStVincentMillay; therefore, rule #5 has been edited to reflect such.[/end interjection]
Anonymous
Related submission no longer exists.
Dusk in the Desert
I swear, this summer’s sun
still scorches close to night
as I must have been the wettest there
returning home from my desert hike!
Got to take photos of desert fare;
saw a monster, orange and black
looked no worse for wear
nor thirsty for a damp redact!
Getting difficult now for me to see
few streetlamps light my way
relying on starlight skies for me
‘fore denizens emerge to play.
Written by Tallen
(earth_empath)
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AspergerPoet56
Forum Posts: 1901
Tyrant of Words
33
Joined 4th Dec 2018Forum Posts: 1901
If Edna Wrote
We say circumstance, as if it where designed
Chaos in the wind. Is but seeds of revolution
History in books are nothing, statues remind
Is our guilt ridden cleansing, a right solution
Our love of humankind diminished, till recent times
Unjust blood spilled, dubbed hate crimes
We create the fuel, in how its taught
Innocence never dies, its a slow torturous rot
In ignoring it, the cancer grew not undetected
Ostriches head buried in sand, not affected
Protesting parades, with rage and violence
His death viewed, filmed in silence
Chaos in the wind. Is but seeds of revolution
History in books are nothing, statues remind
Is our guilt ridden cleansing, a right solution
Our love of humankind diminished, till recent times
Unjust blood spilled, dubbed hate crimes
We create the fuel, in how its taught
Innocence never dies, its a slow torturous rot
In ignoring it, the cancer grew not undetected
Ostriches head buried in sand, not affected
Protesting parades, with rage and violence
His death viewed, filmed in silence
Written by AspergerPoet56
Go To Page
Honoria
Forum Posts: 204
Tyrant of Words
70
Joined 22nd July 2019Forum Posts: 204
Related submission no longer exists.
slipalong
Forum Posts: 855
Dangerous Mind
43
Joined 1st Jan 2018Forum Posts: 855
Miscarriage
It was as if; we held a new born gift
but there were tears that stung inside
the uncorked purity but lost it's pop and fizz
sour taste, the tang that dents your pride
Acid vapour, the smell of hate it crept
tarnished rings worn, purity in doubt
as fractured heart: under carpet swept
expectancy that withered with each flout
"Whatever" just a meaningless defence
the loss of closeness, abandoned soft affection
just alone in that lament
stillborn child delivered by C section
( ashes of life)
but there were tears that stung inside
the uncorked purity but lost it's pop and fizz
sour taste, the tang that dents your pride
Acid vapour, the smell of hate it crept
tarnished rings worn, purity in doubt
as fractured heart: under carpet swept
expectancy that withered with each flout
"Whatever" just a meaningless defence
the loss of closeness, abandoned soft affection
just alone in that lament
stillborn child delivered by C section
( ashes of life)
Written by slipalong
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Ahavati
Tams
Forum Posts: 16910
Tams
Tyrant of Words
123
Joined 11th Apr 2015Forum Posts: 16910
Final week to enter reminder notice. Best of luck to all entrants!
wallyroo92
Forum Posts: 1869
Tyrant of Words
154
Joined 11th July 2012Forum Posts: 1869
Time Heals but Remembering...
In old photographs I remember pain,
Of love and lust lost through those early years,
And though the wounds have healed cruel scars remain,
Like mementos of harsh and acid tears.
Now in silence I weep for that young man,
Reading the coded verses from his past,
With each rhyme I become more of a fan,
When he swore his emotions were so vast.
But looking back now I feel like a fool,
For having such an imagination,
At least I hurt softly and played it cool,
Thinking it was more of a fixation.
I still have memories to burn and singe,
Time heals but remembering makes me cringe.
Written by wallyroo92
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nomoth
Forum Posts: 481
Fire of Insight
12
Joined 24th Mar 2019 Forum Posts: 481
“If in letter form she had left…”
if in letter form she had left,
in silken warp and mullberry weft,
in mint julep's ink of fenugreek,
or glass ring stains on the table's teak.
still my fur would bristle, would heavily seek
her catholic lungs opening in hinged dyptych
and perhaps her milky finger would write the best
in an April nest, on its whitethorn twigged desk
picking, weaving pollen into a vellum vest
a psalter in script so over dressed,
so my eye and ley should they ever wrest,
the robin's rubric red from her yearning breast.
in silken warp and mullberry weft,
in mint julep's ink of fenugreek,
or glass ring stains on the table's teak.
still my fur would bristle, would heavily seek
her catholic lungs opening in hinged dyptych
and perhaps her milky finger would write the best
in an April nest, on its whitethorn twigged desk
picking, weaving pollen into a vellum vest
a psalter in script so over dressed,
so my eye and ley should they ever wrest,
the robin's rubric red from her yearning breast.
Written by nomoth
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Ahavati
Tams
Forum Posts: 16910
Tams
Tyrant of Words
123
Joined 11th Apr 2015Forum Posts: 16910
Thank you for all the amazing entries and for supporting the CCComps. You have roughly 24 hours to double-check your entries for spelling, grammar, themes, and inspirational poem listing in your author's notes. These comps are tough to judge; sometimes it comes down to ONE small detail that was overlooked.
Best of luck to you all.
Best of luck to you all.
PoetsRevenge
Forum Posts: 749
Dangerous Mind
29
Joined 30th June 2016Forum Posts: 749
If Still Your Orchards Bear (The Apple Tree)
The apple tree grew tall and thin,
The apples small and sour,
Yet full of leaves the chipping bark
Came late to meet the hour --
Ever nearer to its fate;
Apples unfit to reach a plate.
Its only nourishment above:
A clear loft moon devoid of love.
Should the tender leave the trees,
The orchard only filled with bees
In blossoms full open to pollinate
Would not they were so free.
A tree departs from the full and sweet,
Remembers red around its feet --
Does not look back in vain,
But simply ignores the rain.
.....
The apples small and sour,
Yet full of leaves the chipping bark
Came late to meet the hour --
Ever nearer to its fate;
Apples unfit to reach a plate.
Its only nourishment above:
A clear loft moon devoid of love.
Should the tender leave the trees,
The orchard only filled with bees
In blossoms full open to pollinate
Would not they were so free.
A tree departs from the full and sweet,
Remembers red around its feet --
Does not look back in vain,
But simply ignores the rain.
.....
Written by PoetsRevenge
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Ahavati
Tams
Forum Posts: 16910
Tams
Tyrant of Words
123
Joined 11th Apr 2015Forum Posts: 16910
Thank you each for honoring Millay with such wonderful emulations. We could really feel the sincerity of your offerings. These competitions are always so difficult to judge because it can come down to a simple typo between two contenders.
That being said, congratulations to the following winners:
First Place nomoth “If in letter form she had left…”
Hope despite circumstance. That is the pure essence of Millay's inspirational poem, ("Even in the moment of our..."). Yours left us breathless, I must admit. Your poem is every bit as classic as the classics in style, vocabulary, and metaphor. While Millay's may seem a simple hope beyond a spring frost which killed the early buds, there is also a deep metaphor woven amid the vines of love which has been lost to worldly elements being fulfilled at a later time. Timing.
You nailed that hope and made it personal toward the object of your affections, though in a vague, third-party-esque manner that is so often prevalent in classic forms. Particularly those poems Millay is so famously known for.
robin's rubric red was a phenomenal display of classic alliteration at its finest. What stood out the most for me ( Ahavati ) was your vocabulary. It was fresh, unique, and exciting in use; it became sparks on the reader's tongue.
Beautiful entry, and to be completely honest, it's one of the most beautiful poems I have ever read. Congratulations on your win, and thank you for supporting the classics.
Second Place PoetsRevenge, If Still Your Orchards Bear (The Apple Tree)
The essence of Millay's If Still Your Orchards Bear is a contemplative one from the present moment. The narrator begins by contemplating what someone standing in that very spot would be thinking and observing ten thousand years from now. Millay brilliantly projects her own classic style of vagueness which draws the reader's personal interpretation into play, i.e. -
And memories hard to bear at noon,
By moonlight harder still,
[ . . . ]
And live, or so you thought, yet these
All gone, and you still there,
One of Millay's trademark themes is loss without any clue as to how it's been lost, e.g. - unrequited love, dignity, death, abandonment, etc.
This is a particularly heart-breaking verse because it ends with an essence of regret in the expression, i.e. -
A man no longer what he was,
Nor yet the thing he’d planned,
Again, Millay demonstrates her famous vagueness which draws from the reader's personal experience. What was he? What did he plan to be? What did he regret? By not providing the details, the reader subconsciously projects their own personal associations into the poem. What a doleful ending that she would think nothing would change in ten thousand years, and men would be in such need of tears.
Your poem is beautifully crafted with the old classic feel in relation to rhyme and form. Your essence differs from Millay's, but that could be a matter of personal perspective. Where hers was more contemplative, yours was more observatory in nature. Where hers expressed regret in change, yours was resolute, or accepting i.e. -
Does not look back in vain,
But simply ignores the rain.
What knocked you out of first place was the lack of depth in regards to the hopelessness that Millay projects toward the future in regards to lack of change vs your resolute complacency to simply ignore the rain, which I felt was a metaphor for tears. In that aspect you did very well.
Congratulations on your placement, and thank you for supporting the CCC's.
Third Place: wallyroo92 Time Heals but Remembering...
You, as Honoria, certainly captured the lingering pain that time does not ease in Millay's, 'Time does not bring relief, you all have lied'. There is also an aspect of self-regret in yours that was not present in Millay's, as thought you attributed this absence, or loss of love to your own actions, whereas Millay left any reason open to interpretation. . .including whether or not the lover has left her or died.
This is a recurring theme in Millay's poetry, as I also mention in following notations. This incendiary buildup practically forces the reader to insert personal aspects of themselves until their emotions explode. Because who cannot relate to the losing of a love? How that love is lost remains to be known; except from the reader's personal perspective.
This is where your essence of self-regret ( as well as 'lust' ) differs from hers of simple missing, albeit the missing was just as apparent in yours as well. We feel this was you, Wally, inserting his personal experience as demanded by the Millay's brilliant style of writing such open-ended interpretive verses.
On a technical aspect, L3 could've used a bit of work to read more smoothly as such:
And though [s]the[/s] wounds have healed( , ) cruel scars remain,
For this you were awarded Third Place. Congratulations! And thank you for supporting the CCC's.
More notes continued on the next page -- >
That being said, congratulations to the following winners:
First Place nomoth “If in letter form she had left…”
Hope despite circumstance. That is the pure essence of Millay's inspirational poem, ("Even in the moment of our..."). Yours left us breathless, I must admit. Your poem is every bit as classic as the classics in style, vocabulary, and metaphor. While Millay's may seem a simple hope beyond a spring frost which killed the early buds, there is also a deep metaphor woven amid the vines of love which has been lost to worldly elements being fulfilled at a later time. Timing.
You nailed that hope and made it personal toward the object of your affections, though in a vague, third-party-esque manner that is so often prevalent in classic forms. Particularly those poems Millay is so famously known for.
robin's rubric red was a phenomenal display of classic alliteration at its finest. What stood out the most for me ( Ahavati ) was your vocabulary. It was fresh, unique, and exciting in use; it became sparks on the reader's tongue.
Beautiful entry, and to be completely honest, it's one of the most beautiful poems I have ever read. Congratulations on your win, and thank you for supporting the classics.
Second Place PoetsRevenge, If Still Your Orchards Bear (The Apple Tree)
The essence of Millay's If Still Your Orchards Bear is a contemplative one from the present moment. The narrator begins by contemplating what someone standing in that very spot would be thinking and observing ten thousand years from now. Millay brilliantly projects her own classic style of vagueness which draws the reader's personal interpretation into play, i.e. -
And memories hard to bear at noon,
By moonlight harder still,
[ . . . ]
And live, or so you thought, yet these
All gone, and you still there,
One of Millay's trademark themes is loss without any clue as to how it's been lost, e.g. - unrequited love, dignity, death, abandonment, etc.
This is a particularly heart-breaking verse because it ends with an essence of regret in the expression, i.e. -
A man no longer what he was,
Nor yet the thing he’d planned,
Again, Millay demonstrates her famous vagueness which draws from the reader's personal experience. What was he? What did he plan to be? What did he regret? By not providing the details, the reader subconsciously projects their own personal associations into the poem. What a doleful ending that she would think nothing would change in ten thousand years, and men would be in such need of tears.
Your poem is beautifully crafted with the old classic feel in relation to rhyme and form. Your essence differs from Millay's, but that could be a matter of personal perspective. Where hers was more contemplative, yours was more observatory in nature. Where hers expressed regret in change, yours was resolute, or accepting i.e. -
Does not look back in vain,
But simply ignores the rain.
What knocked you out of first place was the lack of depth in regards to the hopelessness that Millay projects toward the future in regards to lack of change vs your resolute complacency to simply ignore the rain, which I felt was a metaphor for tears. In that aspect you did very well.
Congratulations on your placement, and thank you for supporting the CCC's.
Third Place: wallyroo92 Time Heals but Remembering...
You, as Honoria, certainly captured the lingering pain that time does not ease in Millay's, 'Time does not bring relief, you all have lied'. There is also an aspect of self-regret in yours that was not present in Millay's, as thought you attributed this absence, or loss of love to your own actions, whereas Millay left any reason open to interpretation. . .including whether or not the lover has left her or died.
This is a recurring theme in Millay's poetry, as I also mention in following notations. This incendiary buildup practically forces the reader to insert personal aspects of themselves until their emotions explode. Because who cannot relate to the losing of a love? How that love is lost remains to be known; except from the reader's personal perspective.
This is where your essence of self-regret ( as well as 'lust' ) differs from hers of simple missing, albeit the missing was just as apparent in yours as well. We feel this was you, Wally, inserting his personal experience as demanded by the Millay's brilliant style of writing such open-ended interpretive verses.
On a technical aspect, L3 could've used a bit of work to read more smoothly as such:
And though [s]the[/s] wounds have healed( , ) cruel scars remain,
For this you were awarded Third Place. Congratulations! And thank you for supporting the CCC's.
More notes continued on the next page -- >