Quotations and Literature Forum

A recent poem I wrote called "Mountain Climbing" has this verse:

"I've learned to see a challenge as an opportunity to grow,
And that good or bad luck is mostly just about timing.
To move forward we need goals, and it is important to know
How to choose them; all mountains were not made for climbing."
~Jon Houge, copyright 2002

I rather llke it and I got some good feedback on it. Just thought I'd throw it out there.

thenostromo, you may have already discovered this site, but I've been thinking you, Phantom Delta and maybe some other folk who often contribute original work might enjoy http://www.myhiddentalent.com/. Users post their stories, poems, essays, etc., and critique each other. It's a mixed bag, of course, but so is every writer's workshop I've ever attended in person. Let me know what you think.

I think I am embarrassed that I even started this topic.
Nope, I'd never heard of that website, but I went ahead and signed up and posted "Mountain Climbing" just for the hell of it.
Thanks for the tip. Much appreciated.

De nada, and no reason for embarrassment -- it takes guts to put your stuff out there, but that's what makes the difference between a real writer and a "wannabee." I've never forgotten something I heard Joseph Heller say at a lecture about 20 years ago. After he spoke and read from his works, there was the traditional question and answer session. One guy stood up and asked, "What would you say to a young person who is sure he has a book inside him but just can't seem to get it out." Joseph Heller said, "I'd have to say he probably doesn't have a book inside him. A book is a product -- writing it down on paper and published is what makes it a book, not thinking about it."

(I have had one poem published and one riddle. )

Synne, The Archers Proverb, 1992

As the Hunter doth hunger
The Purist doth fast.

As the body will perish
The spirt will last.

As the mind doth reason
from the conscience within.

Doth surley the Archer
Know the meanin of synne.

Published under the pen name of Remington , 1992
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I also had a riddle and one song lyric published.

Brilliant poem, PD. Excellent and interesting, choosing to work around the word "synne." Just for grins I had to track down some other uses of it....
http://www.xrefer.com/entry/371164
http://www.bartleby.com/211/1607.html
"I pray the telle me whethyr I schal be savyd or nowt and in what synnes I have most dysplesyd God, for I wyl not levyn the but thow con telle me my synne."
http://www.holycross.edu/departments/vi ... t1-12.html

Thought I'd check in with a couple of quotes about writing (and obviously not my own, and, Luna, that is a very cool story regarding Heller)....

We all start out with the same alphabet. We are all unique. Talent is not the most important thing --- discipline and dedication are. Craft can be learned but desire and longing are innate. Despite the demands of school and just being young, try to write SOMETHING every day --- a description, a captured emotion, a simile, a metaphor. Read, for crying out loud! A writer must read the way a ball player must go to the ballfield every day to practice. Everything is possible in this world of ours--- and so's publication.
~Robert Cormier
answering the question
"What advice do you give to young people who want to be authors?"

"Fragments, fragments of the most beautiful works to ever shine, all lost to darkness, never to be called mine." - LJL copyright 2002

"It isn't easy, it does take an incredible amount of discipline, you don't just write just when you feel like it or you're not going to build up much of a body of work. Inspiration comes to you while you're writing rather than before....For me the discipline of writing and the discipline of prayer are identical, in that I have to let myself be got out of the way because that's not a do-it-yourself activity, and listen....When you write, don't think, write. You think before, you think after, you don't think during. When I'm praying, when I'm truly praying, I'm not thinking, I'm not speaking, I'm shutting up, so perhaps if God has something to say I can hear it. So writing too is an act of listening, listening to what has to be said."
~Madeleine L'Engle, Perkins Lecture Series, Wichita Falls, 1996
http://www.cs.unc.edu/~leila/quotations

Thanks for the encouragement. Synne was an Old English term that archers used to define missing the mark. I had written another version of the proverb using the American spelling, Sin. The old term preceeds the King James Version.

The poem was meant to raise a question of the morality of killing animals for food. The Purist must fast before a hunt so that his hunger becomes the focus of the pursuit. When I wrote the poem I was undergoing a personal exploration of my motives for hunting with the bow and arrow. Taking game with the bow and arrow was one of the more difficult and protracted endeavors of my youth. Placing an arrow in a paper target was not difficult. Drawing on a live animal caused me to undergo what archers call a "target panic". My arrows usually flew high or low. A deer has such reflexes that it can actually duck an arrow. (An arrow hums as it flies.) The deer can hear the arrow a milisecond before it strikes. In order to place the arrow in the thorax an archer must aim low to compensate for this reaction. I wrote a number of related poems in the late 80's and early 90's. They are part of a collection that I titled as The Forest of the Soul. (I was also studying metaphysics during this era.) It is a sin to kill an animal and not utilize the meat.
------------------------

untitled proverb

In the arrow lies the question;
Within the forest lay the answer.

In the heart lies the substance;
Within the mind lay the mode.

In the deed lies the reason;
Within the soul lay forever.

1989,
---------------------------------

A Silent Deer

A silent deer, a single arrow--
Miss him though the Archer may;
Draw thy bow and slowly aim;
Release thy shot and quitely pray.

A lofty flight--A marksman's wonder,
Perish not Oh mortal hunter;
Blood will purge thy spirit"s sorrow;
Life will fill thy quiver's hollow.

A forest's soul--the Archer's goal,
Hunger not Oh mortal hunter.
Somewhere in the timbers lay,
A breathless stag--A broken arrow.

--1989
------------------------

Other poems from this collection include:

Felis Rufus
Onyx Ursus
Paths without Perils
Equinox
The Onyx Eye
Lord of Timber
The Riddle of the Archer's Call
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Here is an old legend that I discovered during my research.


Dog draw, stable stand
Back berond, bloody hand

Excellent post. Sounds like you have a "passion."

Something you said reminded me of a line I was going to write around once but never did, something like:

"The range was never the home of the free!
Ask the Buffalo to tell you their story..."

Passion? I guess I was having a romance with my avoction when I wrote the poems. They sound a bit reverent to me. Hunting had become a spirtual expereince. Presently I am polishing a poem that I have titled as, The Archers Prayer.

Don't be shy, go ahead and post another original poem.

I came across this in my research. It is a humble prayer.


http://www.taxidermy.net/forums/Industr ... C5F7C.html

Robert Herrick was very good at humble little prayers. I especially like this one...


A Child's Grace

Here a little child I stand
Heaving up my either hand;
Cold as paddocks though they be,
Here I lift them up to Thee,
For a benison to fall
On our meat and on us all. Amen.

— Robert Herrick. 1591–1674

_________________
Regards,
Lou
I feel like a fugitive from th' law of averages.
— Bill Mauldin

I love it, "taxidermy.net'
Yep, Herrick is great, no question.

Most of my work is message driven, things about lessons learned, etc.
Here's one I wrote recently (and it is NOT about me).

New Set of Wheels

Need to tell a story about a wish that I made,
While driving along on just a regular day,
It was a Friday afternoon, I'd just gotten paid,
Going nowhere special and taking the long way.

Then the engine just died, and I came to a stop,
I was alone on the road, in the middle of nowhere,
Thinking, "whenever you need one, there's never a cop."
But I was in no hurry, so I really didn't care.

"I wish I had a new set of wheels," I said,
And got out to get some tools from the trunk,
The next thing I know, I'm in a hospital bed,
I was hit and nearly killed by some drunk.

They said I had been unconscious for several days,
And that I was very lucky to be alive,
But I couldn't agree with them, in so many ways,
Both of my legs had been amputated at the thigh.

This story doesn't have a very happy ending,
Because now I know how it feels,
To live out my life, forever depending,
On a wheelchair, my new set of wheels.

So learn from my lesson, I'm begging you "please!"
And take my advice and never forget it:
In this fragile existence, there are no guarantees,
And be careful what you wish for, you just might get it.

~Written by Jon Houge, copyright 6-26-02

Theno. what happened to the poem about the dark angels and Hell's Legions? Email it to me if you please. ( I neglected to print it.)

Here is a link that might give one a visual idea of the difficulties I had as a young archer. During the era if my youth compounds bows were not commonly in use. Murphys Law seemed to be the norm in the deer woods.

http://www.watsonswildlife.com/first_hunt_JP.htm

I deleted that post. I'm not sure why. Here's that poem you mentioned.

If Hell Had Legions!

No weapon hath I so strong,
Or shard of steel so sharp,
No God could right this wrong
That has torn me from my heart.

If Hell has legions, call them out!
They can lead my wretched soul
It's worth is less than I can count,
It rages as a firestorm out of control.

Dark Angels, black wings, take my hand!
Let my hatred live with direction!
Provide a banner under which I may stand,
And proclaim an end to natural selection.

Heaven is unavailable to support my quest,
For God has taken an unkindly eye
On the life of an international terrorist,
Whose only mission is to make people die.

I live with only one thought in mind,
To see someone die who I'm told I must kill,
And all the while thinking I am the kind
Of person who does things of my own free will.

I know I have surrendered to the Legions of Hell,
They can lead me to my eternity of fire,
And when my soul leaves this flesh and blood shell,
I will gladly sing forever in the Devil's choir.

~Jon Houge, copyright 2002

Seven shafts of carbon, armed with titanium--
Death winged in flight, the arrow of the Phantom.
Red oaks and heartwood, buckskin and venison--
Twelve tines of antler, seasoned by the autumn.

--Phantom Delta, 1999