Sailors on the Sea

Saturday, April 3, 2010

The Lonely Woman

Not many people care for my poetry. Even I only like it sometimes. That's because I don't follow any rules, which all good poetry does. The rules may be obscure to those of us not familiar with the many cadences and structures. There are many kinds of poetry.

But when I'm sad I tend to write what I call poetry. It's just a way to express feelings that tear at me from within. Sometimes I wonder what kind of scars there are on my insides. No wonder my stomach doesn't work properly.

Anyway, this came to mind just this morning. I don't have the energy to write a story so I wrote a poem. It isn't a good poem. Not well thought out at all, I think. But I wasn't into that. I just wanted to get it out. And keep it within my favorite theme: medieval.

So, here it is:

Lonely Woman
by Bevie James

You know, I could not have invented this story in a million years
And were I to have read it before living it would say, People don’t behave like that
And yet here I am. I lived it.
Or, should I say, it killed me.

Once there were four friends. They were good friends. Happy.
They liked to laugh and tease and make merry together. For that’s what friends do
The three men all strong and virile
The pretty little woman

Around them there was misery. War was ravaging the land.
And each declared to the others how were it not for them they would leave
Leave the tiny village
Leave the country entirely

And then they were betrayed, cruelly and played for fools
It was at this time the strongest of the four suddenly disappeared from sight
Gone from the village
Gone from the country

The three remaining friends huddled close together, drawing upon each for strength
They left their tiny village, ravaged by the war, and found a new place to dwell
A new village of their own
A new place to call home

But the one grew restless and bored, and began exploring the area for interests
And quickly his feelings toward the woman changed from love to disdain to hatred
And he accused her of things
Looked for reasons of fault

The woman began to collapse, for this restless one had been her champion knight
They had shared the things only lovers share, in broad daylight and in the night
She pleased him well
He pleased her too

The war pressed close and panic ensued, and things were done in a hurry
The woman, in charge, tried to keep the peace, but her efforts resulted in ruin
Her champion left
Abandoned her in need

The champion returned but the woman resigned, and gave her role to the wise one
But things were falling apart, and the champion continued to revile her unceasingly
Looking for fault
Making it up at need

To save the village the wise one turned command to the other, who really was not fit
He did his best, but the weight was heavy, and he tried to bear it alone
Not good for him
Not good for the village

The woman tried to help, but was left out more and more, and so she lost her mind
And things unraveled quickly. Hatred and mistrust growing like a disease
Nothing she did worked
Nothing she said was right

She was expelled from the village and cast to her own. By a lover who hated her now.
And weeping and mourning she made a new place, in the shadow of a friend’s home
Hoping for forgiveness
Hoping to be loved again

The village was overrun, and new leader installed as king. The woman’s time drew near
She cried out for answers and sought to talk, but silence met her ears
Not a word from any
Not a sign that any cared

In time the woman was attacked, by a friend of the village that was lost
She cried out and was recognized, and the attack was withdrawn at last
Acquaintances remembered
Safe but still alone

She called to another village, to let them know what fell
And they said they understood and offered her a place by their well
A new home
A safe place

But her love for her friends was great, and she turned down the offer of help
She would remain in the shadow of her village, hoping they would forgive her again
And they would be together
They would be happy

But the one friend spied on the village, and the other reviled her friends
So the last friend the woman had, believed her of treason and left
Now truly alone
The end of hope

And so the woman sits quietly, knowing the war rages about
Knowing that sooner or later, the war will visit her house
And she will die
And it will end

Do you believe this story my friend? That friendships could so easily die?
Well it’s true, I’m sorry to say. That we really all think alike
Rash to conclusions
Never to forgive

And so I walk in sadness. Knowing my fate is now set
There is nothing to do that will change things, and alone is how it will be met
For I am that woman
And loneliness is my life


fairyhedgehog said...

I'm sorry it's such a difficult time for you at the moment.

Bevie said...

I know. No happy endings to my stories. haha

I think I'll live. Always have in the past.

But thanks for your warm sentiments.

writtenwyrdd said...

Freeverse poetry is whatever and however you want to structure it. Having basically gotten a minor in creative writing with a focus on poetry, I can say that with confidence. And that's how I write poetry, too.

Hope things are looking up soon.

Bevie said...

Thanks, Writtenwyrdd.

The wonderful thing about writing, poetry or stories, is that we can put ourselves in it as someone else experiencing something else. But the feelings are still expressed just the same.


A Tentative Schedule

Monday - Progress Report
Where am I with regard to the Current Book

Tuesday - Thoughts About Writing
I was going to be profound, but let's be real

Wednesday - What Am I Learning
What can I take from what I am doing

Thursday - Work Sent Out For Review
Respondes to my submissions

Friday - Other Works of Fantasy
Some of my other fantasy writing

Saturday - The Impact of Music
How music has influenced what I write

Sunday - Venting
My 'morbid' time. A safe compromise, I think