Doug Vinson Poet Quatrain

Notes About The Poem

 

Robert Lindley's format of 100 words, 8 syllables per line.

The Rider

In a mass grave so long ago,
They spoke to me before they died,
I saw their souls, the outward flow,
All hope buried beneath that tide.

The many starving, sent afar,
With wearied feet and hunger's burn,
Impel them on - my repertoire,
The children that fail to return.

I rose up tall against the shore,
Wood and iron to hold them fast,
Freedom vanished for evermore,
Slavery's journey to the last.

I set you fighting, tribe on tribe,
The dogs of war so fierce to roam,
Ensure no safety to describe,
What has worth if you can't go home?

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Maria Williams March 17, 2017 at 9:32 PM A wonderful and moving quatrain Doug. A 10 for sure. oops, sorry I can only give you a 7.Shame about that!! Doug Vinson March 18, 2017 at 8:39 AM Thanks, Maria. Yeah, it's odd how it only goes to 7. Whattayagunnado?

Andrea Dietrich March 15, 2017 at 7:30 PM wow, doug this is deep and expressive. That last line is awesome. ove that you are speaking for the unjustly killed. You did great here. Doug Vinson March 15, 2017 at 8:11 PM Thank you, Andrea. There's an absolute ocean of pain out there...

Debbie Duncan March 13, 2017 at 11:26 PM Nicely done, glad you liked mt "The Ride " Doug Vinson March 14, 2017 at 7:06 PM Hey Debbie. : ) Thanks.

Gregory Richard Barden February 28, 2017 at 8:10 PM And then I forgot the seven, lol. ;) Doug Vinson February 28, 2017 at 10:41 PM Ha! We're in the same club....

Gregory Richard Barden February 28, 2017 at 8:09 PM This is superb quatrain, Doug, and just a wonderfully penned poem of substance and visceral appointment ... kudos for this work of art! (What, no eight?? A seven it will have to be!) :) Doug Vinson February 28, 2017 at 10:41 PM Thank you, Greg - mighty nice comment. : ) This was a fun write, but to conform to the requirements took some doing. It gets to the point where you just about have it, and then if you change one thing, it creates ripples throughout that you then have to chase down and smooth over.

John Hamilton February 28, 2017 at 11:52 AM Really well done with the word and syllable restrictions, obviously took a lot of talent and time. Reminds me of the Syrian crisis, what a world! Congrats on POTD! Doug Vinson February 28, 2017 at 6:15 PM Thanks, John. Indeed - there is a bit of "fitting" to do. ; )

Lisa Ricci February 26, 2017 at 6:26 AM Wow, you obviously are skilled at this art we call poetry. I feel honored to have turned to this entry and your well placed words which are expressive. The ending line itself can hit a nerve for certain. Well done Doug Vinson February 26, 2017 at 7:03 AM Thanky you, Lisa. Keep writing! : )

Sunita U.D Palawon February 25, 2017 at 11:52 PM So beautifully composed. Cheers for the POTD!! :)) Doug Vinson February 26, 2017 at 12:14 AM Hi Sunita. : ) Thank you.

Freddie Robinson Jr. February 25, 2017 at 11:48 PM Excellent poetry, Doug. The pale rider of Death is never satisfied. More bodies to claim, always on the ride. Powerful truths this poem is. Kudos for POTD. Love and peace, my friend. Doug Vinson February 26, 2017 at 12:08 AM Thanks, Freddie. Yes, comes for us all in the end.

Connie Marcum Wong February 25, 2017 at 10:41 PM Your personalization of the view from a ships remains is entrancing Doug. This is so worthy of being honored as POTD! Congratulations! ; ) 7 Doug Vinson February 25, 2017 at 11:41 PM Thank you, Connie. In a way, I think the world should be haunted by all its past images.

Andrea Dietrich February 24, 2017 at 7:24 PM Oh and a POTD I see. WEll deserved. Congrats. Doug Vinson February 24, 2017 at 9:57 PM :: bows ::

Andrea Dietrich February 24, 2017 at 7:23 PM wow, Doug, this is powerful! The imagery really sets it off as well. You did great justice to Robert's form!! SEVEN Doug Vinson February 24, 2017 at 9:59 PM Thank you, Andrea. : ) So, why is it easier to write about harshness, pain, etc., than about joy, happiness, etc.? Surely this must say something about the writer.

Elizabeth Kinch February 24, 2017 at 2:14 AM Very emotive and well deserving of POTD. Doug Vinson February 24, 2017 at 3:11 AM Hi Elizabeth. : ) Trim my sails and shiver me timbers. Not that there's any decent reason to say that, here. ; )

Mary Susan Vaughn February 23, 2017 at 7:46 PM Powerful poem, Doug! It conjures up images of all the refugees fleeing their homeland for their own life and survival. - Susan Doug Vinson February 23, 2017 at 9:02 PM Hi Mary. Cheers! : ) Yes - I pictured that scene of having to flee. Have seen so much of it on TV the past few years that surely I am on the way to becoming numb. Yet in each single person, such powerful realities.

Jeanie Bennett February 23, 2017 at 4:03 PM Love this poem Doug !! ~~ Jeanie ~~ Doug Vinson February 23, 2017 at 8:56 PM Hi Jeanie. : ) ::splashing around in the happy pool::

Akkina Downing February 23, 2017 at 3:06 PM Congratulation Doug on your great poem :) Doug Vinson February 23, 2017 at 3:37 PM I am grateful, Akkina. : )

Sara Chansarkar February 23, 2017 at 10:32 AM This is poignant an true!Congrats Doug! Doug Vinson February 23, 2017 at 1:47 PM Hey Sara. : ) So, if we ever need an excuse to shake our heads, we need but think of such things. ; )

Sunlite Wanter February 23, 2017 at 10:26 AM A great, great poem - reminds me of some of the old poets like Tennison. Doug Vinson February 23, 2017 at 1:46 PM Yee Haa, Sunlite - thank you, that's a heck of a compliment. The word and syllable limits - I wonder if they give a more "controlled" sense, and if some of those old-timers wrote in that way.

Daniel Turner February 23, 2017 at 7:27 AM Back with my congratulations on POTD, Doug:) Doug Vinson February 23, 2017 at 1:40 PM Gracias, Amigo!

Robert Lindley February 23, 2017 at 7:13 AM Just now saw, congrats on POTD!!!! Doug Vinson February 23, 2017 at 1:42 PM Grazie, my friend.

Agnes Krampe February 23, 2017 at 6:46 AM Congrats on your POTD, Doug. Good poem on a horrific subject. Doug Vinson February 23, 2017 at 1:39 PM Dankeschön, Agnes. : )

Charlie Smith February 23, 2017 at 6:44 AM Our inhumanity is and sadly probably always will lead to our extinction. Powerful write Doug, congratulations for POTD honors... Doug Vinson February 23, 2017 at 1:34 PM Yeah, Charlie. I think that as a race, we have to learn the hard way. And we have to do it over and over and over again.... So, what do you think of this handbasket?

James Horn February 23, 2017 at 6:39 AM While they all do often roam Seems to be below silver dome; We learned what they meant By hour of there discontent. Doug Vinson February 23, 2017 at 1:26 PM Gettin' pretty silver, aye, James. Not as many as there once were, either. :p

Anne-Lise Andresen February 23, 2017 at 6:29 AM - Congratulations on your great p.o.t.d. Doug :) - hugs // Anne-Lise :) Doug Vinson February 23, 2017 at 1:32 PM Cheers, Anne-Lise. Always great to see you. : )

Lynn Marie February 23, 2017 at 6:04 AM A powerful piece of stark reality. Leaves me wondering where our humanity has gone, a dismal thought to say the least. The last line is terrific, your poem is extremely well written, much to ponder. Congratulations on POTD. blessings, lynn Doug Vinson February 23, 2017 at 1:30 PM Thank you, Lynn. Yeah - like (paraphrasing) where's the real profit or good if we lose our soul? However, a somewhat-better soul still needs food, clothing, shelter, etc., right? Seems like there would be a huge range of balance, but I wonder...

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