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Rhyme And Verse

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Wragg

Chronicler of Crux
Staff member
I for one rejoice greatly at the amount of poetry on these forums. I wondered if it might be helpful to start a little thread considering the elements of poetry in order to encourage others to pitch in and have a go, because poetry is highly expressive and highly fun!

The first question might be, do you want to write a structured poem or in ‘free’ verse?

‘Of course, free verse is much easier than structured verse, because you don’t have to worry about the structure, right?’

Wrong. In structured verse most of the work is done for you by the structure, the reader is drawn along by the clickety clack of the verses. Free verse poets have to make every single word count, drawing the reader through the poem by the sheer beauty and power of the words they choose. There are some fantastic free verse poets here, and I hope that they will chip in and give us the benefit of their experience.

Secondly, a good entry into poetry is comic verse, where you can take liberties. It is very difficult to use free verse to comic effect, in my humble opinion, so you are heading into the stratosphere of emotive writing when you pick the free verse option, and to illustrate this point just look at Siss' latest offering, 'Daydreams and Nightmares.'

http://www.cruxforums.com/xf/threads/daydreams-and-nightmares.4527/

I’ll stick with structured verse, therefore!

There is much that could be written about poetry, but the elements are metre and rhyme.

Metre is the rhythm of the lines, specifically it is the number of beats in the line.

Here’s a line of structured poetry, from Casabianca by Felicia Dorothea Hemans (the poem is better known than the poet)

The boy stood on the burning deck.

Count the beats and you should come up with 8.

‘So I just get 8 syllables in a line and I’m home and dry. Right?’

Not quite, because in addition to the number of syllables the line has a rhythm:

The BOY stood ON the BURNing DECK

The syllables are not equal, some are stressed. Dee-DAH dee-DAH dee-DAH dee-DAH. (If you’re interested, each pair of syllables is called a ‘foot’. A foot which stresses the second syllable is called an ‘iamb’ and a foot which stresses the first is a ‘trochee’. Four feet together, like this, is called ‘quadrameter’, this line is therefore iambic quadrameter. But you can ignore all that stuff for now.)

So you do have to pay some attention to the natural rhythm of words. You can see, for instance, that you couldn’t make ‘burning’ the last word in the line without pronouncing it ‘burNING’ which sounds false.

And that’s the key. It’s as simple as that. Does the line ‘sound’ right or not? As we say ‘does it scan’? Or are you forcing stress on syllables that don’t normally take stress?

There are various tricks to help you get your metre into order.


  1. Turn two syllables into one. Here’s a famous example: ‘Twas the night before Christmas.’

  2. Get a thesaurus. Chances are, if you look through the rich variety of synonyms in the English language, you will find a word that fits better into your line than the one you’re thinking of.

  3. Think about the whole phrase. Believe that there’s a way of saying it that fits the metre you need. So, if I wanted to write ‘Think about the whole phrase’ in the eight beat form of our example, I might come up with ‘Consider how the whole phrase works.’ ConSIDder HOW the WHOLE phrase WORKS. Simples! And ‘consider’ is a lovely word, so much better than ‘think about’, even though it has the same number of syllables.

Right ho, just a few thoughts about rhyme, and then I’ll shut up and give way to the real experts!

Let’s have a look at the rest of the first verse of Ms Heman’s poem:

The boy stood on the burning deck.
Whence all but he had fled;
The flame that lit the battle's wreck.
Shone round him o'er the dead


So the second and fourth lines are shorter, just six beats, and that makes them a bit punchier, and this 8.6.8.6 structure is so beloved of poets and songwriters that it is called ‘common metre’ or ‘ballad metre’.

These are the simplest rhymes, ‘deck’ and ‘wreck’ rhyme perfectly, as do ‘fled’ and ‘dead’, in a rhyming structure that we can describe as a,b,a,b.

But here’s a rather naughty caricature:

The boy stood on the burning deck.
His feet were covered in blisters.
He'd burnt the socks right off his feet
And had to wear his sister's.


I don’t know about you, but I think that is quite funny. It emphasises my point about comedy verse. Whoever wrote that has completely messed up the metre, the first and third lines don’t rhyme, and yet it works! You can’t sing it (try ‘the House of the Rising Sun’) but it brings a smile to the lips.

It does also instruct us a little, firstly that the ‘key’ rhymes are those at the end of lines two and four, so it is perfectly acceptable, if you struggle with rhymes, or if you are writing a long ballad, or if you simply prefer it, to ignore the ‘a’ rhymes in common metre.

Secondly, it illustrates another way of rhyming, and another important point. The rhyme must be on the stressed syllable. The ‘ters’ of ‘blisters’ may rhyme with ‘hers’ but there’s no way you could end the last line with ‘hers’, or even with a two syllable word that ends –ers (try substituting ‘mother’s’ for ‘sister’s’)

But don’t be a slave to a rhyme. Often there is a genuinely limited choice of rhymes available and if you’re not careful you end up twisting the poem just to get a rhyme. (For a great example of that, used to hilarious comedy effect, look no further than W.S. Gilbert’s ‘Modern Major-General’)

Think about ‘phononyms’ – these are words which do not rhyme perfectly, but where the stressed syllable sounds very similar to that of the word you want to rhyme:

She wasn’t quite so helpful now
The soldiers fought to hold her down;


And beware of ‘identicals’

A girl with golden blond hair
Had lost all her clothes, and was bare
She thought ‘what a bore’
When she heard a loud roar
And beheld a bad tempered brown bear.



Even in a limerick, the rhyming of ‘bare’ and ‘bear’ is disappointing (though the alliteration in the last line has merit – but alliteration is another story.)

Final thought – you can’t hold every word in your head, it is not ‘cheating’ to use a rhyming dictionary or a website like ‘rhymezone’.

So go on, have a go. Feel free to use this thread to play on!
 
Last edited by a moderator:
Lots of good advice there Wragg, thanks.
Perhaps this thread could be a home for members' experiments -
like Wragg says, don't be shy!

Of course, there are structured forms that don't involve rhyme or (stress-based) rhythm,
haiku (5 + 7 + 5 syllables) is a well-known one.

I find it's fun, but also good practice, to take a poem or song and rewrite it,
some of my 'grin songs' are the result. Others have, after a good bit of work,
turned into poems whose origin as pastiche isn't obvious, they seem to work independently.

I agree with Wragg that working within a rhyming, rhythmic pattern can be easier than producing good 'free' verse,
though most of mine is somewhere between the two, with a basic (though variable) rhythm and syllabic count,
and quite a lot of play with sounds (alliteration, onomatopoeia, assonance), but not in set patterns.

And I take my hat of to pk, who manages to produce proper sonnets,
that I've always found a real challenge:
http://www.cruxforums.com/xf/threads/odessa-1.3288/
http://www.cruxforums.com/xf/threads/the-perfect-cut.3535/#post-102442
http://www.cruxforums.com/xf/threads/the-minoan-girl.3749/#post-118767
 
I for one rejoice greatly at the amount of poetry on these forums. I wondered if it might be helpful to start a little thread considering the elements of poetry in order to encourage others to pitch in and have a go, because poetry is highly expressive and highly fun!

The first question might be, do you want to write a structured poem or in ‘free’ verse?

‘Of course, free verse is much easier than structured verse, because you don’t have to worry about the structure, right?’

Wrong. In structured verse most of the work is done for you by the structure, the reader is drawn along by the clickety clack of the verses. Free verse poets have to make every single word count, drawing the reader through the poem by the sheer beauty and power of the words they choose. There are some fantastic free verse poets here, and I hope that they will chip in and give us the benefit of their experience.

Secondly, a good entry into poetry is comic verse, where you can take liberties. It is very difficult to use free verse to comic effect, in my humble opinion, so you are heading into the stratosphere of emotive writing when you pick the free verse option, and to illustrate this point just look at Siss' latest offering, 'Daydreams and Nightmares.'

http://www.cruxforums.com/xf/threads/daydreams-and-nightmares.4527/

I’ll stick with structured verse, therefore!

There is much that could be written about poetry, but the elements are metre and rhyme.

Metre is the rhythm of the lines, specifically it is the number of beats in the line.

Here’s a line of structured poetry, from Casabianca by Felicia Dorothea Hemans (the poem is better known than the poet)

The boy stood on the burning deck.

Count the beats and you should come up with 8.

‘So I just get 8 syllables in a line and I’m home and dry. Right?’

Not quite, because in addition to the number of syllables the line has a rhythm:

The BOY stood ON the BURNing DECK

The syllables are not equal, some are stressed. Dee-DAH dee-DAH dee-DAH dee-DAH. (If you’re interested, each pair of syllables is called a ‘foot’. A foot which stresses the second syllable is called an ‘iamb’ and a foot which stresses the first is a ‘trochee’. Four feet together, like this, is called ‘quadrameter’, this line is therefore iambic quadrameter. But you can ignore all that stuff for now.)

So you do have to pay some attention to the natural rhythm of words. You can see, for instance, that you couldn’t make ‘burning’ the last word in the line without pronouncing it ‘burNING’ which sounds false.

And that’s the key. It’s as simple as that. Does the line ‘sound’ right or not? As we say ‘does it scan’? Or are you forcing stress on syllables that don’t normally take stress?

There are various tricks to help you get your metre into order.


  1. Turn two syllables into one. Here’s a famous example: ‘Twas the night before Christmas.’

  2. Get a thesaurus. Chances are, if you look through the rich variety of synonyms in the English language, you will find a word that fits better into your line than the one you’re thinking of.

  3. Think about the whole phrase. Believe that there’s a way of saying it that fits the metre you need. So, if I wanted to write ‘Think about the whole phrase’ in the eight beat form of our example, I might come up with ‘Consider how the whole phrase works.’ ConSIDder HOW the WHOLE phrase WORKS. Simples! And ‘consider’ is a lovely word, so much better than ‘think about’, even though it has the same number of syllables.

Right ho, just a few thoughts about rhyme, and then I’ll shut up and give way to the real experts!

Let’s have a look at the rest of the first verse of Ms Heman’s poem:

The boy stood on the burning deck.
Whence all but he had fled;
The flame that lit the battle's wreck.
Shone round him o'er the dead


So the second and fourth lines are shorter, just six beats, and that makes them a bit punchier, and this 8.6.8.6 structure is so beloved of poets and songwriters that it is called ‘common metre’ or ‘ballad metre’.

These are the simplest rhymes, ‘deck’ and ‘wreck’ rhyme perfectly, as do ‘fled’ and ‘dead’, in a rhyming structure that we can describe as a,b,a,b.

But here’s a rather naughty caricature:

The boy stood on the burning deck.
His feet were covered in blisters.
He'd burnt the socks right off his feet
And had to wear his sister's.


I don’t know about you, but I think that is quite funny. It emphasises my point about comedy verse. Whoever wrote that has completely messed up the metre, the first and third lines don’t rhyme, and yet it works! You can’t sing it (try ‘the House of the Rising Sun’) but it brings a smile to the lips.

It does also instruct us a little, firstly that the ‘key’ rhymes are those at the end of lines two and four, so it is perfectly acceptable, if you struggle with rhymes, or if you are writing a long ballad, or if you simply prefer it, to ignore the ‘a’ rhymes in common metre.

Secondly, it illustrates another way of rhyming, and another important point. The rhyme must be on the stressed syllable. The ‘ters’ of ‘blisters’ may rhyme with ‘hers’ but there’s no way you could end the last line with ‘hers’, or even with a two syllable word that ends –ers (try substituting ‘mother’s’ for ‘sister’s’)

But don’t be a slave to a rhyme. Often there is a genuinely limited choice of rhymes available and if you’re not careful you end up twisting the poem just to get a rhyme. (For a great example of that, used to hilarious comedy effect, look no further than W.S. Gilbert’s ‘Modern Major-General’)

Think about ‘phononyms’ – these are words which do not rhyme perfectly, but where the stressed syllable sounds very similar to that of the word you want to rhyme:

She wasn’t quite so helpful now
The soldiers fought to hold her down;


And beware of ‘identicals’

A girl with golden blond hair
Had lost all her clothes, and was bare
She thought ‘what a bore’
When she heard a load roar
And beheld a bad tempered brown bear.



Even in a limerick, the rhyming of ‘bare’ and ‘bear’ is disappointing (though the alliteration in the last line has merit – but alliteration is another story.)

Final thought – you can’t hold every word in your head, it is not ‘cheating’ to use a rhyming dictionary or a website like ‘rhymezone’.

So go on, have a go. Feel free to use this thread to play on!
Nice thought Wragg and a good idiot's guide to getting started.

A girl with golden blond hair
Had lost all her clothes, and was bare
She thought ‘what a bore’
When she heard a load roar
'Twas Wragg, up behind, on a dare.
 
Nice thought Wragg and a good idiot's guide to getting started.

A girl with golden blond hair
Had lost all her clothes, and was bare
She thought ‘what a bore’
When she heard a load roar
'Twas Wragg, up behind, on a dare.

See, scholars, just how satisfying a proper rhyme can be? :D

Might be bad for your health, though, my ribs hurt

:duke:
 
I for one rejoice greatly at the amount of poetry on these forums. I wondered if it might be helpful to start a little thread considering the elements of poetry in order to encourage others to pitch in and have a go, because poetry is highly expressive and highly fun!

The first question might be, do you want to write a structured poem or in ‘free’ verse?

‘Of course, free verse is much easier than structured verse, because you don’t have to worry about the structure, right?’

Wrong. In structured verse most of the work is done for you by the structure, the reader is drawn along by the clickety clack of the verses. Free verse poets have to make every single word count, drawing the reader through the poem by the sheer beauty and power of the words they choose. There are some fantastic free verse poets here, and I hope that they will chip in and give us the benefit of their experience.

Secondly, a good entry into poetry is comic verse, where you can take liberties. It is very difficult to use free verse to comic effect, in my humble opinion, so you are heading into the stratosphere of emotive writing when you pick the free verse option, and to illustrate this point just look at Siss' latest offering, 'Daydreams and Nightmares.'

http://www.cruxforums.com/xf/threads/daydreams-and-nightmares.4527/

I’ll stick with structured verse, therefore!


There is much that could be written about poetry, but the elements are metre and rhyme.

Metre is the rhythm of the lines, specifically it is the number of beats in the line.

Here’s a line of structured poetry, from Casabianca by Felicia Dorothea Hemans (the poem is better known than the poet)

The boy stood on the burning deck.

Count the beats and you should come up with 8.

‘So I just get 8 syllables in a line and I’m home and dry. Right?’

Not quite, because in addition to the number of syllables the line has a rhythm:

The BOY stood ON the BURNing DECK

The syllables are not equal, some are stressed. Dee-DAH dee-DAH dee-DAH dee-DAH. (If you’re interested, each pair of syllables is called a ‘foot’. A foot which stresses the second syllable is called an ‘iamb’ and a foot which stresses the first is a ‘trochee’. Four feet together, like this, is called ‘quadrameter’, this line is therefore iambic quadrameter. But you can ignore all that stuff for now.)

So you do have to pay some attention to the natural rhythm of words. You can see, for instance, that you couldn’t make ‘burning’ the last word in the line without pronouncing it ‘burNING’ which sounds false.

And that’s the key. It’s as simple as that. Does the line ‘sound’ right or not? As we say ‘does it scan’? Or are you forcing stress on syllables that don’t normally take stress?

There are various tricks to help you get your metre into order.


  1. Turn two syllables into one. Here’s a famous example: ‘Twas the night before Christmas.’

  2. Get a thesaurus. Chances are, if you look through the rich variety of synonyms in the English language, you will find a word that fits better into your line than the one you’re thinking of.

  3. Think about the whole phrase. Believe that there’s a way of saying it that fits the metre you need. So, if I wanted to write ‘Think about the whole phrase’ in the eight beat form of our example, I might come up with ‘Consider how the whole phrase works.’ ConSIDder HOW the WHOLE phrase WORKS. Simples! And ‘consider’ is a lovely word, so much better than ‘think about’, even though it has the same number of syllables.

Right ho, just a few thoughts about rhyme, and then I’ll shut up and give way to the real experts!

Let’s have a look at the rest of the first verse of Ms Heman’s poem:

The boy stood on the burning deck.
Whence all but he had fled;
The flame that lit the battle's wreck.
Shone round him o'er the dead


So the second and fourth lines are shorter, just six beats, and that makes them a bit punchier, and this 8.6.8.6 structure is so beloved of poets and songwriters that it is called ‘common metre’ or ‘ballad metre’.

These are the simplest rhymes, ‘deck’ and ‘wreck’ rhyme perfectly, as do ‘fled’ and ‘dead’, in a rhyming structure that we can describe as a,b,a,b.

But here’s a rather naughty caricature:

The boy stood on the burning deck.
His feet were covered in blisters.
He'd burnt the socks right off his feet
And had to wear his sister's.


I don’t know about you, but I think that is quite funny. It emphasises my point about comedy verse. Whoever wrote that has completely messed up the metre, the first and third lines don’t rhyme, and yet it works! You can’t sing it (try ‘the House of the Rising Sun’) but it brings a smile to the lips.

It does also instruct us a little, firstly that the ‘key’ rhymes are those at the end of lines two and four, so it is perfectly acceptable, if you struggle with rhymes, or if you are writing a long ballad, or if you simply prefer it, to ignore the ‘a’ rhymes in common metre.

Secondly, it illustrates another way of rhyming, and another important point. The rhyme must be on the stressed syllable. The ‘ters’ of ‘blisters’ may rhyme with ‘hers’ but there’s no way you could end the last line with ‘hers’, or even with a two syllable word that ends –ers (try substituting ‘mother’s’ for ‘sister’s’)

But don’t be a slave to a rhyme. Often there is a genuinely limited choice of rhymes available and if you’re not careful you end up twisting the poem just to get a rhyme. (For a great example of that, used to hilarious comedy effect, look no further than W.S. Gilbert’s ‘Modern Major-General’)

Think about ‘phononyms’ – these are words which do not rhyme perfectly, but where the stressed syllable sounds very similar to that of the word you want to rhyme:

She wasn’t quite so helpful now
The soldiers fought to hold her down;


And beware of ‘identicals’

A girl with golden blond hair
Had lost all her clothes, and was bare
She thought ‘what a bore’
When she heard a load roar
And beheld a bad tempered brown bear.



Even in a limerick, the rhyming of ‘bare’ and ‘bear’ is disappointing (though the alliteration in the last line has merit – but alliteration is another story.)

Final thought – you can’t hold every word in your head, it is not ‘cheating’ to use a rhyming dictionary or a website like ‘rhymezone’.

So go on, have a go. Feel free to use this thread to play on!

reading.jpg whoa!!!!! I am a slow reader .... so much to absorb here.
 
Wragg, I feel so honored and recognized! I feel, as though, I inspired you to start this thread. Whether I'm right or wrong ... you have made my entire year!!!!!!!!
THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH !!!


flower1flower3flower1
 
Wragg, I feel so honored and recognized! I feel, as though, I inspired you to start this thread. Whether I'm right or wrong ... you have made my entire year!!!!!!!!
THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH !!!


flower1flower3flower1

Wragg....life doesn't get any better than this!!! ;)
 
All that could be very good, but alas reserved to those who are perfectly mastering English language !
I'm not one of those ... :(
Never mind, I'll be happy in only reading the oeuvres ...;)

Yes, I'm sorry, Messa, some of my remarks could apply to German, which works in a similar way to English, but French is such a beautiful language that I could not presume to understand how French poetry works!
 
Indeed that there are more similitudes between German and English !
Sometimes, I could desire to share some French sings or poems with members, but, in first, I'm not enough knowing English language to well translate, and in second, the translations of these oeuvres has not been made and unfindable on the net ! :(
 
Indeed that there are more similitudes between German and English !
Sometimes, I could desire to share some French sings or poems with members, but, in first, I'm not enough knowing English language to well translate, and in second, the translations of these oeuvres has not been made and unfindable on the net ! :(

You are welcome to use this thread as you wish, Messa. Some French songs are well known here, anyway.
 
I have been running things over in my head trying to explain my process. I'm not even sure that I know what my process is really.

Daydreams started out with only the first few lines.


"You tease and flirt ... Don't you?

It's fun and playful and dangerous

They open their eyes and you can tell you can have them"

I wanted something light and playful and fun. So I wrote them down and forgot about them. It was days later that I read them over again and within minutes the whole complexion had changed. I was sitting there typing "LOVE" and I knew that I was finished.

I can hear the sounds the words make and from one line to the next my thoughts can change to fit the mood they create. For the most part, I key off the cadence as I go. Sometimes a word does rhyme or nearly does and other times it's a consonant or a vowel that rolls throughout.

In any case ... it's the pictures and the feelings and the mood that drives me forward to the conclusion and many times ... the real objective. It can be almost trance like.

I'm not sure that this will be helpful to anyone, I hope it is, but it's how I do it.


:bdsm-heart:
 
I have been running things over in my head trying to explain my process. I'm not even sure that I know what my process is really.

Daydreams started out with only the first few lines.


"You tease and flirt ... Don't you?

It's fun and playful and dangerous

They open their eyes and you can tell you can have them"

I wanted something light and playful and fun. So I wrote them down and forgot about them. It was days later that I read them over again and within minutes the whole complexion had changed. I was sitting there typing "LOVE" and I knew that I was finished.

I can hear the sounds the words make and from one line to the next my thoughts can change to fit the mood they create. For the most part, I key off the cadence as I go. Sometimes a word does rhyme or nearly does and other times it's a consonant or a vowel that rolls throughout.

In any case ... it's the pictures and the feelings and the mood that drives me forward to the conclusion and many times ... the real objective. It can be almost trance like.

I'm not sure that this will be helpful to anyone, I hope it is, but it's how I do it.


:bdsm-heart:

It's a process that apparently works! Maybe you should take out a patent? Nah, it's you and you alone....no worries... people may copy it and learn from it, and well they should, but they will never duplicate it. There is only one Siss!!! :bdsm-heart:;):)
 
It's a process that apparently works! Maybe you should take out a patent? Nah, it's you and you alone....no worries... people may copy it and learn from it, and they well should, but they will never duplicate it. There is only one Siss!!! :bdsm-heart:;):)

Awwwwww! :bdsm-heart::)
 
I have been running things over in my head trying to explain my process. I'm not even sure that I know what my process is really.

Daydreams started out with only the first few lines.


"You tease and flirt ... Don't you?

It's fun and playful and dangerous

They open their eyes and you can tell you can have them"

I wanted something light and playful and fun. So I wrote them down and forgot about them. It was days later that I read them over again and within minutes the whole complexion had changed. I was sitting there typing "LOVE" and I knew that I was finished.

I can hear the sounds the words make and from one line to the next my thoughts can change to fit the mood they create. For the most part, I key off the cadence as I go. Sometimes a word does rhyme or nearly does and other times it's a consonant or a vowel that rolls throughout.

In any case ... it's the pictures and the feelings and the mood that drives me forward to the conclusion and many times ... the real objective. It can be almost trance like.

I'm not sure that this will be helpful to anyone, I hope it is, but it's how I do it.


:bdsm-heart:


Thanks Siss, that's good to get an insight into the thinking behind your poetry...

The word 'Love' is only delivered as a kind of release after a crescendo of insight and wisdom, each line building on the one before:

Never let your beliefs control your desires for this will only leave you lost

Find yourself before you trust in yourself

Never doubt what is in your heart




 
I don't know how she does it, but Pkindenhaag can command all kinds of poetry. Eulalia has mentioned her sonnets, but here's one that I love in free (ish) verse:

Can I take your face in my hands?
And hold your wild curls in my fingers?
In the overgrown garden of your childhood,
By St. Martin's water without hope,
By Bir Hakeim I will chase you,
To that room in Passy, my love!
For a kiss, just a single kiss... Maria.


From here: http://www.cruxforums.com/xf/threads/my-perfect-girl-guess-who.4141/

And then, we do have one other poet comfortable with many poetic forms, but here is her very best, a poem I return to again and again:

My whiteness
catches the early rays.
A few men gather
to appreciate
my nakedness-
most are too busy.

Eighteen years’ girlhood
now displayed,
like this, for passers-by.

I could have got away
down this same road,
Ostia, freedom …

No. A girl alone
wouldn’t stand a chance –
and, anyway,
it’s what I asked for.

So I got ready,
bathed, oiled my skin,
brushed back my hair,
put on my dancing chiton,
simple, light,
sandals, hair-ribbon,
nothing else –
no make-up, gems.

Waited.

“Nice legs!” a soldier said
as he tied my wrists,
“But they need a tan –
we’ll see you get one!”

Those legs I fight to flex now,
lit by the light of dawn,
press down - the pain’s unbearable –
to ease the other agonies
in aching shoulders,
steel-tormented groin …

I teased my torturers,
“Come on!
In your job
you must’ve seen a naked girl before -
whip me!”

Their scourge
and smouldering irons have left
imperial signatures
on my hot, heaving adolescent breasts,
where flies are swarming now
to taste sweet sweat.

The sun lifts, angry red
above the marshes –
how soon my pale skin burns!

Heavy the cross-bar
that I had to haul
up this long hill,
thrashed when I stumbled.

Still, when they stripped me –
what I had left of blood-soaked rags –
I smiled, shook back my hair,
self-conscious, girly.

Nor did I struggle –
well, not much –
as they set me shuddering on the shaft,
stretched out slim arms –

so slim, so stretched now,
straining, they’re forced to bear
my body’s weight -
They strapped me down,
showed me the iron nails,
the heavy hammer,
grinning …

Ah! How we squeal,
vixens on heat, fillies in season,
girls, when we’re crucified!

Minutes, they watched me writhe,
peed on me – my lank locks
still stink of it –

then raised me slowly,
every muscle taut,
feeling the strain grow, inch by inch,
head back, lips wide, teeth clenched,
then –

Aaah!
That sickening jolt!
All of me tugged
on four flesh-rending nails,
ripping racked girlhood!

Worse: in between my thighs
the Spike -
that special cruelty the Romans use
to consummate their virgin-victim's
honeymoon of pain!

First I fought, frenzied,
trying to tear,
my fingers free from those fixed nails.

At last,
I recognised, resigned:
there’s no escape.

Accept
the agony
that surges through
with every lunge
of my long, slow death-dance.

Yet still I strive with aching thighs
to ease my tortured sex
around the exploring Spike,
flex up my supple body,
feel how close
ecstatic pleasure lies to exquisite pain!
Excited schoolboys now observe
each throb of my loins
as the triumphant metal penetrates my female parts,
province by province,
conquering me.

Tribute trickles purple
down my surrendered thighs,
drips for Rome’s soil to sup.

Wolf-whistles!
Word's got round,
"A pretty crucifixa on the Ostian Way!"
Youths jeer and joke,
their girl-friends giggle and gloat.
Older men ogle me, lay bets...

"She's suffering,
that slave-slut -
so she should!"
hisses a hag.

Submit.
It's what they like to see....

Breasts that will never nourish,
hips that will never bear,
toss, thrust, tormented.

Parched lips panting,
schoolgirl teeth flash in the sun,
sun-baked, thirst-maddened,
frantic, I twist my head,
try to suck sweat off my shoulder.

Oozing wounds crawl
with flesh-gnawing flies -
each breath is agony …

Ah, crucifixion!
Summitof sadist’s skill!
Making me, every sinew taut,
torture – and fuck - myself!

Noonday.
No rest.
Head hangs exhausted.

Crows investigate –
I toss my tousled curls:
not time yet boys!

“Caw!”
They just mock me.
Soon they’ll start pecking -
first my soft eyes …

And yet I know
it’s only the beginning...

I’ve seen girls young as me
hanging like I am now,
still twitching, gasping,
whimpering in pain,
on the third day!



Eulalia herself - who else!
http://www.cruxforums.com/xf/resources/crucifixa.199/


 
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