I Stand Alone, Looking Out the Window, and I Am Important

That title was suggested by a book I've sadly forgotten as the secret heart of every modern poem.

I don't know what I was going to write about today. I made a discovery so wonderful that it has driven all else from my mind. While randomly poking about on other blogs (that little "Next Blog" button at the top of the page is a dangerously easy way to waste time), I came across the absolutely delightful Garden of Graves by the grandiosely but spot-on perfectly named Morgaine, and the best poem ever written, "The Wraith," presented in its entirety below:

"Have you seen me floating by?
Waiting beneath the twilight sky?
Have you seen me shed my tears?
Unveiling all your deepest fears?

I am the wraith of your longing
The dark nymph that's belonging
To the recesses of your broken heart
And pierces sharp just like a dart

Have you heard my singing voice?
Inaudible like the slightest noise?
Have you heard me call your name?
Defiling you in all your shame?

I am the wraith of your darkest hate
Your life I've knotted intrinsicate
Pulling and tugging you grow tight
Unaware of your impending plight

Have you felt my loving kiss?
Soft and gentle, so easy to miss?
Have you felt my sharpened nails?
Deep dark gashes, crimson vales?

I am the wraith of your own life
I am your own suicidal knife
You want me to take you quickly
But!

You've already drowned in your own self-pity."

Hoo, man. I'm cackling too much to continue. Give me a minute.

Wow. I don't mean to be pointlessly cruel, but that was really, really terrific. I'm glad to know such poetry exists. My big question is, does Morgaine realize that "quickly" and "pity" don't really rhyme? Is it an intentional use of a completely unmetrical line and a non-rhyme to make the ending that much more shocking and dramatic? Or was it just that she had so much to say that it had to all go in there, come Hell or high water? Are "voice" and "noise" an attempt at an odd kind of eye-rhyme? And how can any noise, however slight, be inaudible?

I was going to bust her chops over "intrinsicate," too, but it turns out to be a Shakespearean reference, so kudos to Morgaine for that one. It's only pretentious and obscure, not incorrect. Kind of like my stuff, which I why I so rarely tackle poetry.

I feel changed.

If you enjoyed this, don't miss "My Faceless Love" or "The Black Lace Fan" or "Victimia." They're not all as gratifying and rapturous as this one, but they are fun.

Oh, to be a gloomy, artsy Goth chick. I could make a mint.

ps--I'm still waiting for responses to that last post. Where'd you guys go?