The Hairbag Poet-Perspective

Hi and welcome to my Friday series The Hairbag Poet.

In the blogging world Fridays are known as Poetry Friday.  You can read about Poetry Friday here. I will plan on posting The Hairbag Poet each Friday.

You can read about the history of this series here.

Today I will be presenting two poems. One is from the perspective of the dolls, and the other is from the perspective of the Aliens, characters that you may remember from some of my previous poems. This has been a fun series to write, if not a little creepy.

Today’s poem, and really this whole series has been an example of anthropomorphism. According to Poetry Foundation anthropomorphism is “a form of personification in which human qualities are attributed to anything inhuman, usually a god, animal, object, or concept.” I think children are always bringing objects to life. It’s why I have the photo’s I do. The dolls, and toys in most of these posts are my nieces. However I believe their worn torn world are the result of my brother’s imagination. When I think about it, I feel like my brother and I are kids again, playing with toys; we’re just a little older, and our sense of humor has warped a bit, but we’re creating, collaborating, imagining, and having a good laugh.

I hope you enjoy these posts. Thanks for stopping by and reading, and please feel free to post your own poetry in the comments if you feel inspired by the photographs. I always love reading other peoples perspective on “art”.

 

The Hairbag Poet

 

Photo by Donald who says, “The barbies attack the fairy village.”

Perspective: Dolls

Warriors come out to play.
Revenge is what we seek today.
Fairy Queen,
you’ve killed our tribe,
and now in hollowed oak you hide.
Come out and face us
one last time!
Let justice judge
your vicious crime.

Photo by Donald who says, “The Aliens still on their trek come upon the battle.”

Perspective: Aliens

We are the aliens
from X-241,
our planet is Ogda,
it’s warmed by one sun.

My offspring and I
landed last year in Maine
in your snowy, cold land
with its icy terrain.

We were chased by clawed beasts,
and a smoking old guy,
so we ran for our lives
as our spaceship stood by.

We escaped to our home,
we regrouped,
and we planned
to return to this land
we could not understand.

So we waited till Summer
when earth neared the sun,
and traveled through space;
another journey begun.

But not much has changed,
this land they call Maine,
remains brutally cold;
a hostile domain.

We’ve witnessed a war
between dolls and a fairy
that’s inhumane, ruthless,
vicious and scary.

Barbie doll heads sat skewered on spikes,
that were severed with ease,
by the Fairy Queen’s strike.

This visual nightmare,
a crime wicked, mean.
“An eye for an eye”
claims this homicidal Queen.

It’s time that we leave now
and head westernmost,
to the fog laden, misty, Pacific seacoast.

I am sad to say that my brother Donald has moved from Maine to Washington State, and we will no longer be sharing the same coast. Though I’m happy for him, and his family, because they are moving to a beautiful area, I will miss them dearly. I look forward to what the west coast will inspire in Donald’s photography, and the future of the Hairbag Poet.

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The Hairbag Poet-The Drones of War

Hi and welcome to my Friday series The Hairbag Poet.

 

In the blogging world Fridays are known as Poetry Friday.  You can read about Poetry Friday here. I will plan on posting The Hairbag Poet each Friday.

You can read about the history of this series here.

One of the things I love about being the Hairbag Poet, is the research that goes into writing this series.  I know it’s mostly silly, and weird subject matter attached to often disturbing photographs (thanks to my brother Donald) that I write about, but I take the learning of poetry seriously.

For this post I came across a poetic term called Caesura. According to poetry foundation Caesura is “A stop or pause in a metrical line, often marked by punctuation or by a grammatical boundary, such as a phrase or clause. Medial caesurae (plural of caesura) can be found throughout contemporary poet Derek Walcott’s “The Bounty.” When the pause occurs toward the beginning or end of the line, it is termed, respectively, initial or terminal.” Caesura can be marked with this symbol ll (parallel lines) in the middle of the line, but according to literary terms it is not usually marked at all. Some famous lines evincing caesura are the “The Star-Spangeled Banner” lyrics “Oh, say can you see ll by the dawn’s early light…” Another example is Shakespeare’s “Hamlet” “To be or not to be, ll that is the question.” A beautiful example of initial and terminal caesura can be found in Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s poem “Mother and Poet.”

I hope you enjoy these posts. Thanks for stopping by and reading, and please feel free to post your own poetry in the comments if you feel inspired by the photographs. I always love reading other peoples perspective on “art”.

 

The Hairbag Poet

Photo by Donald who says, “Barbie sends in her archers.”

The Drones of War

The Drones ride in with their spiked wings.
Vengeance coats their metal tips.
Fairy Queens do not veil themselves in honey,
but ready themselves on the battlefield;
defeat absent from their vernacular.
No hive of arrows will incarcerate this fierce sprite.
With quiver mute, the Drones retreat.
Their return…cocksure!

The Hairbag Poet-The Fairy Wars

Hi and welcome to my Friday series The Hairbag Poet.

In the blogging world Fridays are known as Poetry Friday.  You can read about Poetry Friday here. I will plan on posting The Hairbag Poet each Friday.

You can read about the history of this series here.

Todays poem covers two poetic writing styles of repetition: anaphora and epistrophe (or epiphora). According to Poetry Foundation, anaphora “is the repetition of a word or words at the beginning of successive phrases, clauses, or lines to create a sonic effect.” On the other hand, epiphora is when a word or phrase is repeated at the end of successive clauses (Literary Devices, 2018).

I attempted to incorporate both into my poem today. Hopefully this Hairbag Poet got it right.

I hope you enjoy these posts. Thanks for stopping by and reading, and please feel free to post your own poetry in the comments if you feel inspired by the photographs. I always love reading other peoples perspective on “art”.

 

The Hairbag Poet

Photo by Donald. He says, “The barbies thought it was a good time to take the fairy stronghold. They were mistaken! And so the Fairy war began”

The Dolls of War lie prone in the sun soaked grass of a summer afternoon.
Tears cry for the fallen.
The Dolls of War espy the Fairy Queens triumph; hubris hangs in azalea’s fragrance.
Tears cry for the broken.
The Dolls of War rigored bodies prove victims of an indiscriminate battlefield reaper.
Tears cry for the wicked.