CPC “PICK-APART POETRY” (Halloween 2013 Edition)
Welcome to the October 2013 Edition
of PICK-APART POETRY
where each month
we celebrate creativity and sharing
in a rather short
(though not necessarily short)
poetry/prose/image kind of way.
This month,
as Halloween approaches,
we share a scary glimpse
of long ago with a poem
appropriate to the season
and influenced by
Washington Irving’s
“Legend of Sleepy Hollow.”
“The Headless Horseman Pursuing Ichabod Crane” by John Quidor, 1858
Please select 25 words from
Alfred Noyes’ “The Highwayman,”
and create a piece using those
25 words. Remember though
that the words may be repeated
and the forms and tenses changed
to suit your fancy.
And even though our theme this month
is a rather Halloween-ish one,
your poem doesn’t have to be.
We welcome all themes and styles.
THE HIGHWAYMAN
PART ONE
I
THE wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding—
Riding—riding—
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.
II
He’d a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin;
They fitted with never a wrinkle: his boots were up to the thigh!
And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,
His pistol butts a-twinkle,
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.
III
Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,
And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred;
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord’s black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord’s daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.
IV
And dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
Where Tim the ostler listened; his face was white and peaked;
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
But he loved the landlord’s daughter,
The landlord’s red-lipped daughter,
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say—
V
“One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I’m after a prize to-night,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I’ll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way.”
VI
He rose upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair i’ the casement! His face burnt like a brand
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,
(Oh, sweet, black waves in the moonlight!)
Then he tugged at his rein in the moonliglt, and galloped away to the West.
PART TWO
I
He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon;
And out o’ the tawny sunset, before the rise o’ the moon,
When the road was a gypsy’s ribbon, looping the purple moor,
A red-coat troop came marching—
Marching—marching—
King George’s men came matching, up to the old inn-door.
II
They said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale instead,
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed;
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side!
There was death at every window;
And hell at one dark window;
For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride.
III
They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest;
They had bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!
“Now, keep good watch!” and they kissed her.
She heard the dead man say—
Look for me by moonlight;
Watch for me by moonlight;
I’ll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way!
IV
She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good!
She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years,
Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,
Cold, on the stroke of midnight,
The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!
V
The tip of one finger touched it; she strove no more for the rest!
Up, she stood up to attention, with the barrel beneath her breast,
She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again;
For the road lay bare in the moonlight;
Blank and bare in the moonlight;
And the blood of her veins in the moonlight throbbed to her love’s refrain .
VI
Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs ringing clear;
Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they did not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
The highwayman came riding,
Riding, riding!
The red-coats looked to their priming! She stood up, straight and still!
VII
Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night!
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!
Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight,
Her musket shattered the moonlight,
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him—with her death.
VIII
He turned; he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood
Bowed, with her head o’er the musket, drenched with her own red blood!
Not till the dawn he heard it, his face grew grey to hear
How Bess, the landlord’s daughter,
The landlord’s black-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.
IX
Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!
Blood-red were his spurs i’ the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat,
When they shot him down on the highway,
Down like a dog on the highway,
And he lay in his blood on the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat.
* * * * * *
X
And still of a winter’s night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
A highwayman comes riding—
Riding—riding—
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.
XI
Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard;
He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred;
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord’s black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord’s daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.
****************
Our goal is
to share our creativity
and to have fun
as we look forward to what we create
and bring back to share
with one another.
Happy Halloween and Happy Word-Picking!
~Barb K and Cherie/Silver Lining~
Greetings and Good Evening and Happy Halloween (almost) to All. And welcome to the October Edition of Pick-Apart Poetry! Cherie and I always have such fun and look forward to this each month. My own personal poetry muse has needed a jump-start for several weeks now and I’m trusting that the 25 words I select will do the trick to awaken her. Looking forward to seeing where your 25 words take your muse and hoping that you will share with us. :love: :love: :love: and (((HUGS))). Please do invite your friends to join us.
Hi Barb,
Boy, I hadn’t read that writing in quite a while…..rather 21st Century that write is of Alfred’s…… 🙂 🙂 😈 😯
Alfred Noyes’ Wiki bio —
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alfred_Noyes
and excerpts from THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW by Washington Irving from The Harvard Classics Edition —
http://www.bartleby.com — http://www.bartleby.com/310/2/2.html
Can also be found at
http://www.ibiblio.org/ebooks/Irving/Sleepy/Irving_Sleepy.pdf
The YouTube link to Loreena McKennitt’s version of it . . . . I’ll see if the link will work . . . .
http://youtu.be/S2CFM4ev-g8
Still winter’s night
breast the rise of the moon
love in the frosty moonlight
her love a cascade of perfume
dawning velvet
the purple moon…
Cherie c2013
Well……took all I had….hehehe but posted. Slow quiet evening here…..and my pillow is calling. See everyone in the morning!!!!!! :love: :love: :love: :love: :love: :love: :love:
IN THE DARK OF NIGHT
*
Darkness among the gusty trees
Were hollows of madness echo ed in the night
There was death
by moonlight
Dark in the dark old inn
horse hoofs ringing clear
Yet they did not hear
The highwayman came riding in
*
Written By: Bettie Davis —————– © October 29 , 2o13
WITHIN THE WIND
I can hear the silence
within the wind
cascading among
twinkling ribbons
of moonlight,
jeweled lace
cloaking the window
of sunset in yellow gold
and guiding the way
toward midnight
and beyond.
(c) barbara kausteklis 10-29-13
I’ll be working on another one in my dreams . . . . Rest well and I look forward to seeing you again in the morning over coffee. (((HUGS))) and sweet dreams. :love: :love: :love:
TIM AND THE LANDLORD’S DAUGHTER
In a torrent of darkness,
a ribbon of moonlight.
“Watch for me by moonlight.
I’ll come to thee.
One kiss, my bonny sweetheart.”
His rapier rose upright,
up to the thigh.
A ribbon of moonlight
in a torrent of darkness.
Words drawn from “The Highwayman” by Washington Irving
Have a beautiful day everyone!!!!!! 😉 😈 🙄 😳
:love: 😆 💡 :groovy: 👿 :entertained: 😥 ➡ ❓ 😐 😡 😮 😛 😀 😕 🙂 🙁 ❗ 😯 8)
So many faces to choose from….who might I be for Halloween!!!!!
CASCADING
Among lace-jeweled stars
twinkling in the dark sky
moonbeams cascade
past her window
as she gazes
into the silence
of the night.
(c) barbara kausteklis 10-30-13
All such beautiful pieces . . . . A wonderful way to begin my day. Looking forward to what is shared throughout today. Hugs and :love: :love: :love: from Southern California on this Wednesday morning before Halloween.
A dear man with a black hat
with twinkle in his eyes
said no words came riding up,
She stood up,
He kissed her face with deep breath.
Blue skies and crisp air and sunshine are calling to me . . . . Thanks so much for this beautiful way to begin my Wednesday. I’m looking forward to checking back in just a little bit. :love: :love: :love: and (((HUGS)))
Thanks so much to everyone who stopped by and participated and helped to make this such a fun experience. Happy Halloween and lots of :love: :love: :love: Already looking forward to next month. (((HUGS)))