Sampling With Stanza and Meter

One day, possibly, this blog will open up to more people, and lots of different works will be on this - works that will help all involved make some difference in this world we live in.  For now, I am content with putting on work I've made, and some of my favorite poems.  I know it's been a little lopsided, but I will change that soon.  For now, this is my attempt to play with an iambic tetrameter with a Spenserian stanza. 


The Song of 'I'
by Matt Catania

The winds’ first song blows swiftly by.

Its music is so sweet to hear

and steady as a mountain high.

The cool, crisp gust brings eyes to tear-

but others cannot listen here.

They hear each other wail and moan!

Such company betrays the ear:

I like it when I am alone.

It’s far more fair to be alone.

The pairs hold hands and speak in tongues

and softly hold each other close

to feel the heat from lovers lungs.

A sadness fills my heart for those

who settle with that life they chose.

I flee to nature’s dulcet tone

beyond the jagged tongues of foes.

I like it when I am alone.

It’s far more fair to be alone.

But oh- how tender their embrace:

an mmm… the touch of lips: a kiss;

How satisfying love must taste!

A touch of tongue electric; this

excited rush of limpid bliss!

If only they could learn to hone

their hearts to hear… but-  I digress.

It’s just as fair to be alone.

I like it when I am alone.

The wind is all the love I need

(but I can never hold the wind.)

That peace I found is all I need

(but I can never kiss the wind.)

The subtle songs of silence blend

to lesser lovely light unknown!

(forgive my heart, it never sinned…)

- I like it when I am alone.

It’s just as fair to be alone.

The wind could never break my heart

(it doesn’t have a heart to break.)

The peace it brings will never part

(nor does it give a love to take.)

But… tangent love I cannot make

from that content I’ve always known!

(I fear I’ve made a grave mistake…)

I like it that I am alone?!

It’s not as fair to be alone!!!

The pairs, they move along the shore

sublime beneath the twilight sky.

A lonely man finds peace no more –

How slow… the years… they pass me by.

A soft, swift wind, and flask of rye.

The song, it plays a different tone.

The empty requiem of ‘I’:

“I like it that I am alone.

It’s just as fair to be alone.”