Romantic Musings 4
I had ham. Then I had turkey. The dining hall served turkey, which I count as a blessing considering that my parents didn’t serve it.
Anyway.
Wordsworth has redeemed himself. Great Cthulhu may eat him last. Or…y’know…second to last. Or he’s at least been taken off the “top 100 people for the Sunken Lord of R’lyeh to Devour First Upon Awakening” list.
Anyway.
“We are Seven” is a wonderful bit of poetry. Its nice, and maybe just a little creepy. There’s a little kid who’s stalwartly refusing to admit that her two siblings are dead. No, there are seven children in that house. Yes, there are two graves out there. No, there are still seven of them. It’s a bit back and forth, and the dialogue between Romanticism and Enlightenment rationale is a bit…annoying…but at the same time the poem is kind of evocative. The imagery’s really nice. And that last stanza is great.
“But they are dead; those two are dead!
Their spirits are in Heaven!”
‘Twas throwing words away; for still
The little Maid would have her will,
And said, “Nay, we are seven!”
There’s almost an occult feel to the poem. Not sure how to express it, but it seems almost like a cultist refrain. I have half a mind to put a little shack in the Rockies venue and have five Bone Shadow kids inside, cared for by their two dead siblings, and torment the other Werewolves when they come upon the kids who keep insisting “Nay, we are SEVEN!”
…though I could also use that in an issue of the Paradise Seven…but anyway.
Anyway.
Wordsworth has redeemed himself. Great Cthulhu may eat him last. Or…y’know…second to last. Or he’s at least been taken off the “top 100 people for the Sunken Lord of R’lyeh to Devour First Upon Awakening” list.
Anyway.
“We are Seven” is a wonderful bit of poetry. Its nice, and maybe just a little creepy. There’s a little kid who’s stalwartly refusing to admit that her two siblings are dead. No, there are seven children in that house. Yes, there are two graves out there. No, there are still seven of them. It’s a bit back and forth, and the dialogue between Romanticism and Enlightenment rationale is a bit…annoying…but at the same time the poem is kind of evocative. The imagery’s really nice. And that last stanza is great.
“But they are dead; those two are dead!
Their spirits are in Heaven!”
‘Twas throwing words away; for still
The little Maid would have her will,
And said, “Nay, we are seven!”
There’s almost an occult feel to the poem. Not sure how to express it, but it seems almost like a cultist refrain. I have half a mind to put a little shack in the Rockies venue and have five Bone Shadow kids inside, cared for by their two dead siblings, and torment the other Werewolves when they come upon the kids who keep insisting “Nay, we are SEVEN!”
…though I could also use that in an issue of the Paradise Seven…but anyway.
posted by Derek the Bard at 10:22 p.m.
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