The Istanbul Love Challenge

[CharleyH]

At Cambridge, free of strict familial rules we met, a boy with no particular direction or desire other than the rugby field and yet something told me there was more. I knew my family would not embrace him for his breeding, they thought themselves as “upper crust”. His northern accent I was sure they would deplore and, certainly, they looked on him with pure disgust. The more they mocked the more it felt unjust; they patronized him to the point of being rude but through it all they had to give him his due, his manner gracious, far from being crude as they had all expected him to be. I knew right then he’d captivated me. (paraphrased line four of Istanbul 2461)


As time drew on and my docile siblings found their chosen mates and fully, one by one, each prospect vetted by the theater-in-the-round of snobbish relatives with their usual bombing run then, found to be well bred, no need to shun. The weddings were most lavishly arranged and only one bride’s oven held a secret bun, but I digress. Back to our world, happily estranged from my high-flown folks with only Christmas cards exchanged, living in contented penury and adding to the family tree, our progeny and fortune waxed and waned while my siblings learnt about divorce decree our love grew stronger every single day until our children grew and moved away.


Now, fate will sometimes throw a nasty curve surprising with events, not always good and we were hit with one quite undeserved. At first we hardly understood why my legs felt like they’d turned to wood. And all the things I’d done my whole life long no matter how I tried I now found that I couldn’t, one by one they slowly slipped away. So when I raved in frustration and dismay he would hold me tightly in his arms. All our life he’d known just what to say, one of his incalculable charms. “In the past you’ve worked too hard, time for review. Now it is my pleasure to take care of you.”

(The place, of course is England with its rigid class system. To refer to the history or mythology of Istanbul 2461 was/is totally beyond me, sorry. I know I broke Charley's rules but, BOY! this was one hellatious challenge. I discovered I don't appreciate Sumerian poetry!)

First off, Trisse, I want to apologise. The moment I saw you struggling I should have made it my business to PM you and clarify the challenge. Sorry.

Discussing your poem and only the parameters of the challenge for a brief moment, all is blatant and objective and there is little reference (nothing more about it needs to be said *kiss*). However, I want to let you know this is a good poem. You call it a sonnet, wrapped in prose … If I am correct (and I am often not correct - lol) I think you are referring to both the Italian and English sonnets. On the one hand you have a rather lyrical poem with very musical elements and two distinct parts. On the other hand you have three parts representing pseudo-quatrains. If it was my choice ( and it is not) I might like to call your poem a sonnet wrapped inside a ballad and told through prose.

What I really loved was that in each line you write/per stanza, you get increasingly poetic … in a rhyming way. The first line is always non-poetic - a statement perhaps - and then in the next one or two you rhyme a bit and in the end you rhyme a lot. I felt the pattern could have been louder, but it stood out as unique all the same.

Turns of phrases I liked?

"The more they mocked the more it felt unjust; they patronized him to the point of being rude but through it all they had to give him his due, his manner gracious, far from being crude as they had all expected him to be. I knew right then he’d captivated me"

"Now it is my pleasure to take care of you.”

I hope all participating poets will post an opinion on everyone's poem at this point.

Cheers, Trisse. A good entry, even if not adhering to parameters.

Thank you.

 

[CharleyH]

First, I want to say that I wish more poets would comment on these poems because I feel a bit … well, a lot strange critiquing and commenting all on my own as if I were some sort of know it all. I am vain, just not that vain! Lol

Above The Trocadero

Explore your bride as the Sienne;
drift through the heart of her
and wash against stone pillars;
fingers running through your hair.
Be her lover and explore cobbled
streets. Your footsteps tease
her rolling landscape; love's
fingers tap Martillo rhythms
to echo the thrum of sexual beats
as they drift up Mont Marte
out of Quartier de Pigalle.

Desire burning to flame
this skin; to flush crimson
need across these breasts
their peaks teased; arousal
wafting through the air.
In the bedchamber, honey-filled
kisses cloy our senses and slow
lust until your hand rests there.

My scorpion, my mate, my love
You have captivated me,
held me close in anticipation.
Together, our blessed union
floods the land, plumps grapes
so wine will wash the streets
clean and Paris will bloom,
in springtime, with lovers.
We two stroll intoxicated streets
and in the evening we'll tap
the Martillo beat and quicken
lovers to join in the night.
__________

Champagne: You have my heart. Anything to do with France is on my toplist. I have no idea why I have such a love of that damned country because I've never been there, yet I am smitten with it. I loved the way you have streamed the parameters of the challenge into your own drippingly sensual poem. While I love a lot about your poem (and excuse me for not commenting more, but I am keeping my last post in mind) I must admit that this made me melt:

Together, our blessed union
floods the land, plumps grapes
so wine will wash the streets
clean and Paris will bloom,

When I read this it made my mouth water, but then I am big on the word plump. I use it a lot in my own writing to describe the fullness and wholeness of something and as I read these specific lines, I think you do too. Also, I must add that you break lines and it's something I admire about your more recent poetry. I did it once in a poem about my mother, but only because I felt breaking lines did semiotic justice to how she died (splintering). I feel a little overwhelmed and excited that you have used a technique I love, and you have done it so seamlessly that it's barely noticeable on a first read.

 

[champagne1982]

First, I want to say that I wish more poets would comment on these poems because I feel a bit … well, a lot strange critiquing and commenting all on my own as if I were some sort of know it all. I am vain, just not that vain! Lol

Above The Trocadero

<snip>
__________

Champagne: You have my heart. Anything to do with France is on my toplist. I have no idea why I have such a love of that damned country because I've never been there, yet I am smitten with it. I loved the way you have streamed the parameters of the challenge into your own drippingly sensual poem. While I love a lot about your poem (and excuse me for not commenting more, but I am keeping my last post in mind) I must admit that this made me melt:

Together, our blessed union
floods the land, plumps grapes
so wine will wash the streets
clean and Paris will bloom,

When I read this it made my mouth water, but then I am big on the word plump. I use it a lot in my own writing to describe the fullness and wholeness of something and as I read these specific lines, I think you do too. Also, I must add that you break lines and it's something I admire about your more recent poetry. I did it once in a poem about my mother, but only because I felt breaking lines did semiotic justice to how she died (splintering). I feel a little overwhelmed and excited that you have used a technique I love, and you have done it so seamlessly that it's barely noticeable on a first read.

Charley, Don't just feel strange, embrace it, BE strange! I know I should be commenting on these poems. I love them all. I promise, I will as soon as my energy returns and I can leave the heart monitor behind at the hospital lab next week.

My admiration to all and my thanks to you for taking a moment with my poem.

I didn't realize until I researched the Sumerian goddess, Inaan, that she had 2 aspects. The first, explored in Istanbul 2461, is that of the lion, a sensual and erotic face with fertility as the blessing bestowed; the second (and unbeknownst to me when I wrote my poem) is of the scorpion, war, violence and death but still tied to a sensuality unique to the dark pantheon of the near east. Serendipity, no? Both I and my love share Scorpio as a sun sign.

I intend to return to Paris in the future. I think anything short of 2 months would be insufficient to learn all of the city's secret charms. But unless I win the lottery, I can't anticipate being able to afford that kind of sojourn really soon. It's nice to have a dream though.

I will come back to this thread.

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

First off, Trisse, I want to apologise. The moment I saw you struggling I should have made it my business to PM you and clarify the challenge. Sorry.

Discussing your poem and only the parameters of the challenge for a brief moment, all is blatant and objective and there is little reference (nothing more about it needs to be said *kiss*). However, I want to let you know this is a good poem.


I hope all participating poets will post an opinion on everyone's poem at this point.

Cheers, Trisse. A good entry, even if not adhering to parameters.

Thank you.

You are so kind to even comment on my crap, Charley. I should have deleted it as soon as I saw Carrie's. I didn't understand your parameters, it's true but you stretch us, make us think and, for me at least, think outside my usual field and for that I thank you big time.

 

[ishtat]

.

I didn't realize until I researched the Sumerian goddess, Inaan, that she had 2 aspects. The first, explored in Istanbul 2461, is that of the lion, a sensual and erotic face with fertility as the blessing bestowed; the second (and unbeknownst to me when I wrote my poem) is of the scorpion, war, violence and death but still tied to a sensuality unique to the dark pantheon of the near east.
.

You probably know already that Inanna(later Ishtar then Astarte) was the inspiration for the first poet/author ever whose name we know for certain. En-he-du-anna (you can omit the hyphens if you like) daughter of King Sargon of Akkad was her high priestess following the Akkadian conquest of Sumer and she can be reliably dated to about 2300 BC. 1500 years before Sappho. She wrote a number of Hymns in praise of Inanna which were inscribed on clay tablets and have been perfectly preserved. Some quite good translations have been achieved.

 

[CharleyH]

I didn't realize until I researched the Sumerian goddess, Inaan, that she had 2 aspects. The first, explored in Istanbul 2461, is that of the lion, a sensual and erotic face with fertility as the blessing bestowed; the second (and unbeknownst to me when I wrote my poem) is of the scorpion, war, violence and death but still tied to a sensuality unique to the dark pantheon of the near east. Serendipity, no? Both I and my love share Scorpio as a sun sign.

I intend to return to Paris in the future. I think anything short of 2 months would be insufficient to learn all of the city's secret charms. But unless I win the lottery, I can't anticipate being able to afford that kind of sojourn really soon. It's nice to have a dream though.

I will come back to this thread.

The more I read of the mythologies and semiotics behind the poem, the more I was completely fascinated. I suppose that's why I decided to chose the ancient poem. Let's face it ... by today's standards it would be a piece of crap. lol. NOW THERE'S a thread: Piece of crap or important and significant ancient relic! lol.

Anyhow, thanks for posting and I do hope you return for a discussion regarding more of these great poems.

As for Paris? While I have yet to go there (the city would not be my first choice travelling France, but I do have a romantic vision of Montemarte that I'd like to play out ) I can't imagine travelling anywhere for less than a month. Once in my life I took a weeks trip to Daytona Beach in Florida, but I was like 17 and didn't know any better. Since then? I've barely dared to go on a vacation if couldn't spend more than a month. Well, okay, I saw Eastern Canada in 10 days, but really? What's to see? (Sadly, a lot that I missed). C'est la vie. I hope to get there again and not miss out on NFLD!

Thanks again, sweets.

 

[CharleyH]

You are so kind to even comment on my crap, Charley. I should have deleted it as soon as I saw Carrie's. I didn't understand your parameters, it's true but you stretch us, make us think and, for me at least, think outside my usual field and for that I thank you big time.

Kisses love. You made a lovely and important effort in my mind.

 

[CharleyH]

You didn't sign up for it, but brilliantly you shine. I thank you, Fool.

Quiet brings a sense of peace.
Breezes dance among the Aspens,
Dear to my heart,
As I shiver in my too-light jacket.

Summer sun is bright,
but momentary clouds
bring memory of the chill
that lingers with the snow,

fringes lakes with ice,
even when the plains
that lie below this peak
are parched by summer.

A scent of snow, a scent of evergreen,
a sense of you,
as I feel your hand grasp mine
and I must kiss you.

This place may offer peace,
but from you I regain my passion.
You, because you love me,
reignite my desire for life.

There is a place
within a space of two closely bound
and bonded
which offers a sense of forever.

Such as a place where east meets west,
Orthodox and Pagan rituals abound,
history shouts out silently
and refuses to crumble quietly.

You have captivated me.
Your presence awakens me.
Our history, an abutment to our future.
But enough reflection,

enough of past and future thoughts.
Give me pray of your caresses
And let us enjoy here and now
in solitude on this mountain peak.

You've weaved lines of the bad poem almost seamlessly and you get high marks for that, babe. While I didn't see a significant pattern aside from 4 line stanzas, I was impressed with your singular touch of word play.

Lines I loved:

A scent of snow, a scent of evergreen,
a sense of you,

There is a place
within a space of two closely bound
and bonded

 

[champagne1982]

At Cambridge, free of strict familial rules we met, a boy with no particular direction or desire other than the rugby field and yet something told me there was more. I knew my family would not embrace him for his breeding, they thought themselves as “upper crust”. His northern accent I was sure they would deplore and, certainly, they looked on him with pure disgust. The more they mocked the more it felt unjust; they patronized him to the point of being rude but through it all they had to give him his due, his manner gracious, far from being crude as they had all expected him to be. I knew right then he’d captivated me. (paraphrased line four of Istanbul 2461)


As time drew on and my docile siblings found their chosen mates and fully, one by one, each prospect vetted by the theater-in-the-round of snobbish relatives with their usual bombing run then, found to be well bred, no need to shun. The weddings were most lavishly arranged and only one bride’s oven held a secret bun, but I digress. Back to our world, happily estranged from my high-flown folks with only Christmas cards exchanged, living in contented penury and adding to the family tree, our progeny and fortune waxed and waned while my siblings learnt about divorce decree our love grew stronger every single day until our children grew and moved away.


Now, fate will sometimes throw a nasty curve surprising with events, not always good and we were hit with one quite undeserved. At first we hardly understood why my legs felt like they’d turned to wood. And all the things I’d done my whole life long no matter how I tried I now found that I couldn’t, one by one they slowly slipped away. So when I raved in frustration and dismay he would hold me tightly in his arms. All our life he’d known just what to say, one of his incalculable charms. “In the past you’ve worked too hard, time for review. Now it is my pleasure to take care of you.”

(The place, of course is England with its rigid class system. To refer to the history or mythology of Istanbul 2461 was/is totally beyond me, sorry. I know I broke Charley's rules but, BOY! this was one hellatious challenge. I discovered I don't appreciate Sumerian poetry!)

'Tess you do yourself an injustice in saying you haven't met the mythology referencing portion of the challenge. You do. Because you don't see it shows how intrically tied this ancient belief and rite is to our humaness. You talk of the feminine aspect of the goddess and how fortune is tied to prolifacy in S2. Just how wonderful life can be when you spend it in love and rather than the sorrow of dissolution of a relationship tied to foundations of class structure and false successes is illustrated with, our progeny and fortuned waxed and waned while my siblings learnt about divorce decree our love grew stronger(...).

I think you've shared such a classic theme of enduring love in your poem and tell a beautiful story with it. I want to weep with the frank emotion you display as you end the poem, "In the past you’ve worked too hard, time for review. Now it is my pleasure to take care of you.” This is lovely and it was wonderful that you gave us your love poem in spite of how you felt about it. I congratulate you for writing what I feel met the challenge (and on time, too.)

 

[CharleyH]

I'd love to pick through Ang's poem, believe me, but WTF is a double glossa?

Angeline:

Bridegroom, dear to my heart,
Goodly is your beauty, honeysweet,
Lion, dear to my heart,
You have captivated me,
let me stand tremblingly before you.
Bridegroom, I would be taken by you
to the bedchamber.
~ Istanbul Love Poem

I tremble
inebriate in you
as you distill the vertiginous liquor
of lust
inebriate
muted
walk across red-hot paths
bridges in revisited folds
of knowledge
of carnal vain science
machinal
violent
in rumours of flesh
in words of blood
dissolute
inebriate
in your syllables of fire honeydew
in your song and in the night
in your skin where lights kiss explore
and love --
~I Tremble, Lauren Hynde

Wedding Song

Her first love was the sea.
She poured her care in laughter
on the foam. She danced, whispered
I tremble to an ancient rock
that rises from the mist. She prays
her distant sand will spread
across your shore to sink her dreams
grain by grain inebriate in you.

Bridegroom dear to my heart
the first love is this wave that rolls to you
beneath the calm ocean, rolls to you
and empties into shells, breaks itself
to puddles splashed upon your flesh
where goodly is your beauty.

Honeysweet I dream
as you distill the vertiginous liquor
of lust inebriate, muted in us both
we are unknowing where we walk
across red-hot paths. We've burned
in solitude. Our footprints turned to ash
and carried in the wind to settle
on your skin and mine. Lion dear to my heart
we meet on bridges in revisited folds

of knowledge. We carry memories
in empty palms, lift faces to the breeze,
let tears of carnal vain science stream
away from us and quench the lie of she
and she for you have captivated me.
We are united, machinal, violent
in rumours of the flesh. Where we
were undeciphered let me stand
tremblingly before you now in love

No longer dissolute, inebriate
but sober honesty remains, the sea
remains, crashes in your syllables of fire,
Honeydew, in your song

and in the night Bridegroom
I would be taken in your skin, I would
be taken by you to the bedchamber
where lights kiss I will cover you
in flowers born in ocean myth and song:
I tremble and I love.

 

[champagne1982]

Oh don't be ashamed. Your poem is a great read, Trisse. I'm waiting for those "OTHERS" who promised a poem before I comment more fully, but in the meantime and to bump ... here is my addition to the challenge:

They say Porto is the invincible city.
Yet, Portugal's male and quite itty bitty.
But I can tell you he's huge
He's become quite the muse
Mm, let me enjoy your goodly beauty!

Dear Charley,

I know where your heart and your mind was resting in this poem. It's raunchy and sexy just like you. As to the mythology of Istanbul 2461 being addressed in your poem, I'm not sure you've made it a theme in your limerick. But, I enjoy this little li'ck and that's all that matters in the grand scheme of things.

 

[champagne1982]

Quiet brings a sense of peace.
Breezes dance among the Aspens,
Dear to my heart,
As I shiver in my too-light jacket.

Summer sun is bright,
but momentary clouds
bring memory of the chill
that lingers with the snow,

fringes lakes with ice,
even when the plains
that lie below this peak
are parched by summer.

A scent of snow, a scent of evergreen,
a sense of you,
as I feel your hand grasp mine
and I must kiss you.

This place may offer peace,
but from you I regain my passion.
You, because you love me,
reignite my desire for life.

There is a place
within a space of two closely bound
and bonded
which offers a sense of forever.

Such as a place where east meets west,
Orthodox and Pagan rituals abound,
history shouts out silently
and refuses to crumble quietly.

You have captivated me.
Your presence awakens me.
Our history, an abutment to our future.
But enough reflection,

enough of past and future thoughts.
Give me pray of your caresses
And let us enjoy here and now
in solitude on this mountain peak.

Such a lovely answer to the feminine of the ancient poem. You could be the kingman to the priestess as you stand and begin the dance with your bride to renew the fertility of your land.

Gorgeous poem dear man and I thank you for sharing it.

 

[CharleyH]

Dear Charley,

I know where your heart and your mind was resting in this poem. It's raunchy and sexy just like you. As to the mythology of Istanbul 2461 being addressed in your poem, I'm not sure you've made it a theme in your limerick. But, I enjoy this little li'ck and that's all that matters in the grand scheme of things.

ROFLOL - yeah, lol. Thanks babe, I thought most dismissed this, lol, I HAD HOPED! lol.

 

[CharleyH]

Bridegroom, dear to my heart,
Goodly is your beauty, honeysweet,
Lion, dear to my heart,
You have captivated me,
let me stand tremblingly before you.
Bridegroom, I would be taken by you
to the bedchamber.
~ Istanbul Love Poem

I tremble
inebriate in you
as you distill the vertiginous liquor
of lust
inebriate
muted
walk across red-hot paths
bridges in revisited folds
of knowledge
of carnal vain science
machinal
violent
in rumours of flesh
in words of blood
dissolute
inebriate
in your syllables of fire honeydew
in your song and in the night
in your skin where lights kiss explore
and love --
~I Tremble, Lauren Hynde

Wedding Song

Her first love was the sea.
She poured her care in laughter
on the foam. She danced, whispered
I tremble to an ancient rock
that rises from the mist. She prays
her distant sand will spread
across your shore to sink her dreams
grain by grain inebriate in you.

Bridegroom dear to my heart
the first love is this wave that rolls to you
beneath the calm ocean, rolls to you
and empties into shells, breaks itself
to puddles splashed upon your flesh
where goodly is your beauty.

Honeysweet I dream
as you distill the vertiginous liquor
of lust inebriate, muted in us both
we are unknowing where we walk
across red-hot paths. We've burned
in solitude. Our footprints turned to ash
and carried in the wind to settle
on your skin and mine. Lion dear to my heart
we meet on bridges in revisited folds

of knowledge. We carry memories
in empty palms, lift faces to the breeze,
let tears of carnal vain science stream
away from us and quench the lie of she
and she for you have captivated me.
We are united, machinal, violent
in rumours of the flesh. Where we
were undeciphered let me stand
tremblingly before you now in love

No longer dissolute, inebriate
but sober honesty remains, the sea
remains, crashes in your syllables of fire,
Honeydew, in your song

and in the night Bridegroom
I would be taken in your skin, I would
be taken by you to the bedchamber
where lights kiss I will cover you
in flowers born in ocean myth and song:
I tremble and I love.

Angeline: I want you to know that I was not avoiding your poem. A lot of stuff had gotten in the way (well okay, I was avoiding to better understand double glossa). I do want to say that you have weaved both poems into something that amazingly has a life of its own. There is so much that I love about your poem, yet being a little symbolic-bound my fave lines are: damn I love the whole thing ... not easy, but I particularly love the sub-sub-text and also my fave is the last stanza where you bring both poems and yours into a cohesive whole:

and in the night Bridegroom
I would be taken in your skin, I would
be taken by you to the bedchamber
where lights kiss I will cover you
in flowers born in ocean myth and song:
I tremble and I love.

Thank you.

 

[Angeline]

Angeline: I want you to know that I was not avoiding your poem. A lot of stuff had gotten in the way (well okay, I was avoiding to better understand double glossa). I do want to say that you have weaved both poems into something that amazingly has a life of its own. There is so much that I love about your poem, yet being a little symbolic-bound my fave lines are: damn I love the whole thing ... not easy, but I particularly love the sub-sub-text and also my fave is the last stanza where you bring both poems and yours into a cohesive whole:

and in the night Bridegroom
I would be taken in your skin, I would
be taken by you to the bedchamber
where lights kiss I will cover you
in flowers born in ocean myth and song:
I tremble and I love.

Thank you.

Thank you sweetheart (and my dear Lauren, too). I didn't mind waiting at all. I know Lauren understands the glosa--she started a glosa challenge here years ago. I didn't strictly follow the rules for writing that form, partly because I was weaving two other poems into my own, but also because I believe rules are made to be broken when doing so creates a better poem. And the one thing from my own contribution to this conglomeration was the sea imagery because I know that is very important to La Hynde and is a theme in much of her writing. So I wanted to pay tribute to that as well. Really, it came to me very easily and was a pleasure to write.


S.