William said I could upload two poems, so sorry about giving everyone extra work. I've been working on them both for my assessment, but I'm unsure which would be better- so, in addition to any feedback, I'd love for you to tell me which you prefer. (Neither of them have titles, so sorry on that front.)
(1)
River-run flow-arc the stretching mould
Of shatter-form dominion- a ballad left untold
As entombed as Moorish structures- a story linked in place
A half an epic swollen, and lost to any race.
Such tales exist in stasis, in long-forgotten rhyme.
As tongues spread out like rivers, it breaks the prior line.
As what is said from the heart cannot take years of back-translation
Such lines have meanings long forgot, emotions now called ancient.
What evidence is there to say
We know the meanings of these tomes?
As lines are formed in tongues forgot
It is very much their prose.
If contemporaries born today
Cannot comprehend More,
What fools in cloth are we to say
The Satyricon’s known in all.
Our translations approximate; the heart is left asunder
As the spirits then pressed into tablets
Still take to this earth and wander.
How fated are the dead, and how imprisoned are their hearts.
(2)
I caught this evening’s evening hiding-
Waylaid down, striding
Umber-dying, flying,
As bold as takes the curve.
Low, then, and dormant; proud as it was before, then
Lo! Gliding.
Hovering form-line low ‘mongst acres
Taking lines that take no takers
My soul on lightning- to observe
This passing of a shadow- this fated morning, callow
As soft-wing words rebuffed his wings a-firm’d.
Sleek tricky-dick bypass the maple
My voice providing as hearty and faithful
A down-call, in steady rising; mine chevalier.
He took the evening’s low-down current,
And, using it, went gliding.
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