sam_storyteller: (Default)
sam_storyteller ([personal profile] sam_storyteller) wrote2005-07-15 01:27 pm
Entry tags:

The Moon Meadow Anthology: PG.

Notes: This is a series of free-verse poems (oh, stop groaning) which began with "When I Come For You", rightfully the first piece I wrote in the Harry Potter fandom, though The Children is the first full fic. I concieved the idea of a series of poems about the books, similar to the Spoon River Anthology, in which several members of the town of Spoon River is allowed to speak their piece in poetry. It's not great poetry, but it is my poetry, and so why not post it, eh?

Revision Notes: This has been revised somewhat since its first posting on the now-defunct Oojahs site. It was written pre-OotP, sometime around May of 2003. First posted to Sam_Storyteller March 20, 2006. Revised a second time in September of 2013.

Also available at AO3.

The Moon Meadow Anthology

Welcome to Hogwarts
Welcome to Hogwarts.
Please leave your security at the door,
Please leave your childhood in your trunks
Next to your spare parchment scrolls.
Please do not attempt to be heroes
(this means you, Gryffindors).

No, you will never be safe again, but then
That is the price that comes with magic.

You are free to dislike your teachers, classmates, your work

But every time we push you
We are doing it because
If you are never safe
As you never are
Then at least you ought to reap full benefit.

Why come,
If not to learn?

The Sorting Hat
She never wanted anything in life
But to be a Gryffindor like her father.
I had to put her in Ravenclaw --
You don't waste cleverness like hers.
You give Ravenclaw's wit to the girl who will
Someday
Be the Minister for Magic
And will need to know how to be sly.

That boy rather fancied a girl he met on the train
She got sorted into Hufflepuff and when I got to him
He asked if he could be a Hufflepuff too.
And, I said, You are willing to follow this girl
Into that house? The hard-work house?
The house that will never have fame?
Who needs fame,
He said,
When you have the girl?

Precocious eleven-year-old, him.

Unfortunately, their own child got sorted into Slytherin
But they love each other (and the child) very much.

There was a boy, I recall, a werewolf
"Gryffindor!"
He needed courageous people around him.

There was one so afraid of being sorted wrong --
Raised by muggles, I disapprove of course but
Who listens to a hat?
He was terrified, an orphan
And I saw --
Put him in Slytherin. Dark magic never lasts but if that one
Gets hold of Gryffindor's sort of power,
It would be worse. I chose the lesser of two evils
Though it meant deaths either way.

Years later
I thought it was him again --
Orphaned
Frightened
Confused

But this one said "No, please, not Slytherin, not Slytherin"
And I admired his clarity of thought and besides
I could see that he was Gryffindor through and through.

His mother, years ago
Asked me quite politely
Could she please be in Gryffindor?
I thought about the Hufflepuff who said he didn't need fame or power
If he had love
And of course
I said
Gryffindor.

I'm never wrong, you know.
Don't be afraid.

The Castle
Safe in my walls
Creaking stone lullabyes
Populated by ghosts
And animated paintings
False steps (to teach children the wisdom of watching their feet)
I hunker down each autumn, as the leaves turn

That one, I have known him well
Like me he is a stone face so impassive
But still protective of children
And like me
Buried deep beneath:
Terrible secrets.

When the serpent moved through my pipes what was I to do?
Nothing, nothing to do
As helpless as the rest
Not even the ghosts hear me
But I stood, mark you, when they first came to me
And I will stand even if I stand empty
Waiting for the children to return
With the changing of the leaves each year.

House: Ambition
Godric said we had to have a house for troublemakers
And I said Oh, Slytherin will take care of that.

He said Yes, he knew well enough.
He said The problem is we can't just say
These are terrible monster-children.
They learn from the labels they're given, you know.

And Slytherin out of the shadows
Smiled and came forward
He'd been listening, of course. Eavesdropping.

He licked his lips and laughed.
Godric, are you going to call it the house of pranksters?
Are you going to call it the house of Dark Arts?
Oh and then what will you call the others?

No no no I said Salazar it isn't like that --

What do you know, Hufflepuff?
What do you know of what I have gone through
What do you know of my life, you stupid aristocrat --

Enough, Slytherin, said Godric,
While I tried to collect my thoughts.

Thou shalt starve ere I starve, Salazar said.
If I had not come up from the gutters and ditches
Crawling and clawing and fighting
I would not be here.

Therefore, said the Ravenclaw girl,
Who had been silent up until now.
Why do you not call your house
Ambitious?

Godric always had a soft spot for Ravenclaw.

Oliver's Game
Before I came to Hogwarts I played
Football, I played Lacrosse,
And at night I dreamed of flying --
And then came here, saw Ravenclaw play Gryffindor
And that night, though it was illegal
I stole a broomstick after dark
Tried some of the stunts I'd seen and the next morning
McGonagall gave me a week's detention and a place as Gryffindor alternate Keeper.

The next year
The Keeper broke her nose in a fall
Became ball-shy
I felt bad for her but they put me in and to launch from the green grass
Up into the pale skies
What should I care if anyone cheers?
I am the captain now
I am Keeper
And I am the happiest boy in the world.

The Question
What does it feel like?
Well...that is to say...
It's sort of...it's like plunging into cold water on a warm day.
There's a little shock at first, but then
You never want to change back. What do you think,
James?

Oh no. I don't think so, Pads, it's more...
It's a kind of a stretchy feeling, isn't it?
Like when you pull on your earlobes.
It's sort of a feeling of not quite fitting your clothing.
Peter, you say, how does it feel?

Oh,
Oh I'm sure I don't --
I don't know how, really, I mean...
You all say it so much better than I do.

And then they all turned to Remus and Remus looked back at them
His face narrow like a crescent moon
Pale in the light of examination.
But when he spoke,
His eyes danced.

If you're alone, he said, it's like dying,
Only worse, and a thousand little self-hatreds
All at once too.

But if you've got others, he continued,
It's like...having a really good secret
And telling your best friend.

Yes, they chorused.
That's exactly what it's like.

Every Dream
I had never once gotten a letter.
Not addressed to me
Tommy Riddle
Exclusively.
And such a letter! Rich emerald ink,
Thick heavy creamy paper
Before I even opened it, I wanted to live in a house made of that paper,
Wrap myself up in a big blanket of it.

Accepted to a boarding school?
Had I applied?
Well, tuition was free.
I was even given a scholarship for books
And robes
As long as I understood I must work hard now --
I must not let my studies slip.

Should I ever do aught but study? Why would anyone
Who had magic at their fingertips,
Who could make light from air
And power from will
Wish to do anything else?

The big red train was so beautiful
The parchments
The robes and my wand
There were boys and girls with owls and creeping crawling things.
It was as though, suddenly,
Every good dream I'd had at the orphanage was going to come true.

I woke up this morning
Still in my big four-poster
In Slytherin house
Newly-made friends all around me
And for a little while
In the very early morning
I wept for joy.

House: Cleverness
For years they called me The Ravenclaw Girl
Younger than the others -- much younger
I don't know why they took me on.

Perhaps because I was so smart so young
Perhaps because I tricked them
I don't even remember now --

But that was the sort of thing I would do.
Not evil, not exactly
Just clever, like the students in my house --
I loved intellect, cleverness, wit.

Did I come to them and say
Help me! I'm small and weak.
Did I seduce Godric?
I sometimes dream I did
But I'm never really sure.

I'm the only one left alive
I was much younger than them
It was only logical I would be last
Sometimes as I walk the halls
I can hear Salazar and Godric storming at each other
I can hear them call me Ravenclaw Girl

There are other Ravenclaw girls now.
Clever girls. Clever boys too.
My house was always meant to be a refuge for the young
The smart
While Hufflepuff hides away and those two bloody idiots
Still struggle with each other
Not realising that courage without sense is stupidity
Ambition without ethics is monstrosity.

We will survive, little children,
We are smart but we are subtle
You are survivors
Gathered under my wing.

Mouths of Babes
All I ever do causes trouble.
Even something so simple as keeping a journal --
And the best kind of journal! It wrote back!
Nothing but trouble.

I told him my secrets
I told him everything and what does he do but
Go and try to kill the boy I look up to,
The boy I thought I could love.
Make me a puppet oh -- how I hate that!
I hate him!

Before, when I was a small girl
My parents would talk of You Know Who
And it was like something out of a faerie tale.
It wasn't real.
And now...

Maybe that was why it was me, why fate chose me
Why I had to be the one to bring Tom Riddle back
To show me
How very real this man is
And if he was that dangerous when he was still in school
Think what he could do now.

They don't want me tagging along with them,
They don't want me to endanger myself
But I will, because more than anyone
Excepting perhaps the Boy Who Lived
I KNOW
WHO YOU ARE,
YOU KNOW WHO.

Teacher's Pet
We were all so awkward at that stage of life.
Couldn't control the growth of our bodies,
Couldn't control much -- the teachers had all the power.
Most of us chose to keep a secret of some kind or another--
Students do, you know, I can see them even now.

Children you wouldn't expect. Longbottom of course,
A picture of his parents
Sometimes pretends that when he visits them
He's visiting the people who killed them
It seems to comfort him, I don't know why.

Parkinson has a secret pen-friend she writes to
I think she's probably in love with him
It's good; a first love should be remembered
In letters, documents
Stamps from far-off places.

I don't know some of the secrets. What is it
That Malfoy keeps locked away
Behind those walled-in grey eyes?
Why was Potter --
Even before these latest deaths --
Why so very driven to die?

These aren't desires or fantasies, you understand
They don't have to be pleasant
They are merely secrets
The thing we and we only
Own
The one thing that we can say is Ours.

I was fifteen. Brilliant.
I had friends, I had boys occasionally
But I did not have a secret and I was going to go mad
Because nothing was mine
Nothing of mine lasted.

So I twined myself with the animal
I studied the ways of beasts
And quantified magic into little cat claws

I registered, of course. But nobody needed to know that
I was fifteen, not twenty-three,
When I got my Secret.

Nobody needs know yours, children.
Keep them
You will need them.

Hermione's Words

Look to the future.
Look always to the future.

Abandon what you were taught as a child,
Give up nameless, wordless fear,
Find the new place, see what it can teach you.

I know what it's like
I have been given the names
I have heard the whispers in the hallways
But I am strong
And I will always
Always
Be behind you
To catch you if you fall.

(and who will catch me?
No, I will not worry
But who will be there?
No, I will not think on it)

Look to the future,
A bright few years away
We will survive the darkness.

I, after all,
Already have.

Examples
Sometimes the difference between
Seeming to be wise and
Seeming to be foolish
Is all in how serious you can manage to look while lying.

I am so tired.
I have played this life's game so long --
I would not choose immortality now even if I could.

It is odd, no doubt,
For a headmaster to be beloved by his students,
He who must be seen as the ultimate giver of school law.
Certainly Slytherin, who most often break school law
They're not all that fond of me.

But sometimes
When the long hard day is past
I can walk into the hall for dinner
And these children
Turn to watch me
So much love, you can feel it on your skin

Then
I remember why I became a teacher.
I remember why I am fighting
So that these boys and girls who love me so much
(And it is difficult to understand why, but I do not question)
May grow up to follow the example I wish to set

Be good people
Be kind
Occasionally give loved ones new socks
And all in all
Find beauty in the blessing of being
Different.

Little Dragon
I think the first memory I have of my father
Was when I was about four.
Seeing blood on his hands --
Very symbolic, I know.

Not mine, of course, to me he was always kind --
Not nice, Lucius Malfoy is not known for being nice
But he is a good father to me.

The blood was, I think, a muggle's.
The man had shortchanged him in a shop. It wasn't very
Intelligent to kill a man, after the Dark Lord's fall,
But daddy has always depended upon his riches to protect him.

And it taught me that to be different is to be endangered
To stand against those more powerful is a risk of life
Follow power, worship it because without it
Nobody survives my father.

Do you suppose I torment the boy because I enjoy it?
Because I'm jealous?
Or just because I'm bored? No.
I do it because his power fascinates me.

Seek out power.
Without it you are nothing.

House: Loyalty

What is there really to say?

I never paid much attention to the others.
I kept my head down
Like a good Hufflepuff does
You study, you do all right
Not too stellar, but then
Being the best has its own problems.

I always thought it was most pleasant to be
Something simple.
To work hard for good wages
To live in a little house somewhere
Not to have any more problems than average.
Be loyal to your friends
And turn a clear eye on your enemies
If you are so unfortunate
As to have made some.

Salazar calls it moneyed thought
He says it's the spirit of people who keep the world from changing
But I figured
It was better to do good in one's own little sphere
Than change the world and find out later
You changed it in the wrong direction.
At least in my version
You care for your neighbour and
Nobody starves or robs
or places deathly curses on their fellow human beings.

I say to you
When Gryffindors are fighting
You stand behind them
I say to you
You be loyal and you stand when needed
And when not needed
You care for each other
And keep your head down
And work hard, children.

You are the builders of the dreams
In which Godric and Salazar live.

Heart-Divided
Nobody knows, how could they?
How could they possibly know?
Did anyone stand there in the smoking wreckage,
Did anyone stand there and see --

Nothing.
Not a trace left.
Except the child.

Oh, Harry. If I could I would go back now
I would stop myself from going after Peter -- if I could
Harry
Oh no, boy, I never meant to leave you
I was so angry
I did it for you but it wasn't really for you, was it?

My own stupidity.

Years in prison
Two thoughts in my head --
I will bloody well kill you, Peter Pettigrew
Alongside of
I love you, Harry Potter
I don't know, child, if I can separate the two anymore.

You will have to understand
I would kill for you in an instant
But I don't know if I can care for you like I should --
Better you live in that house, unloved, uncared-for,
Than come live with me, heart-divided between love and hate.
Isn't that so?

And then those green eyes on mine
I was so unworthy of his adulation.
Heartlifted out of misery
Soul-risen because a little boy
A little boy I abandoned
Didn't care what I had done.
Didn't care that half my life was already given away.

And his friends, you can't buy loyalty like that.
Love me because he loves me
Care for me because he cares for me

If I could come to you, Harry,
If I could hide you away forever
I would kill --

No.

I would not kill, you would not want that.
See? I'm learning.

But I would still die for that, for you,
Who looks so much like the ones I lost that even my divided heart
Aches.

Chosen
There is a certain pride to poverty
Which comes with knowing you have fought harder
You have understood more
Because there have been no golden walls protecting you.
But the pride is carefully wrapped in
so
much
anger
sometimes I wonder--
Is it only me?

Because I have five brothers to go before me and be Different
One sister to come after me, the baby of the family
And somewhere in the red heads I got lost
Until...

I am not special because I am the friend of the Boy Who Lived.
I am special because a Boy Named Harry is my friend.
Because another boy chose me
Ron Weasley
Over all the others
To be his friend
Because a girl named Hermione
Chose me

I count my own fame not in
Conquered Adventures or Good Jobs
Not in money, prestige, or fame
But in my friends.

Could you buy Harry from my side?
Could Hermione be promoted so far that I would lose her?
You go ahead and try.

For the first time in my life
When he looked Draco Malfoy in the eye and said
He knew who his friends were
(having known me perhaps three hours?)
I felt rich.

My Eyes
I always felt close to James
Sirius
and of course Peter
But I do admit that James and Sirius were a bit troublesome.
Peter and I sometimes went walking the grounds
Just us two
Both a bit smaller, a bit weaker than Padfoot and Prongs
Peter was quite smart in his own way, you know
Though I think I can safely say
My character was a bit stronger than his.

I always thought it odd that Sirius killed Peter,
I never quite
Believed it;
Everyone else said Sirius,
that one, he had a temper
And Peter wasn't so very good at magic, either.
Volatile schoolboys still, the both of them.
But I knew that we all loved Peter Pettigrew
It was part of our bond, protecting the littlest
Sirius, the biggest, took that bond
Very much to heart,
No matter how little he showed it.

Even if he had turned, killing Peter was
Forbidden
After all
As it turns out
Peter didn't kill Sirius, did he?
Though perhaps...
More merciful if he had...

At any rate
You had asked me to speak about myself
And here I go on about my friends
(Isn't it always the way).

What do you say about a pale,
brown-haired,
Thin and sometimes sickly boy?
My troubles entertain no-one but myself.
If you wish to understand me
Tease a wolf and watch its eyes
In the moment before it decides whether to leap for your throat
Or run away.

Those are my eyes.

House: Courage
What was I supposed to do? We agreed
There should be a school but I
Never
Meant
That my school would produce
That Thing
Tom Riddle.

I blame Salazar. He fathered the Dark Arts
He loved them
There was something wrong with Salazar Slytherin.

I admit that
Idealistic
I intended Salazar's boys and girls
To balance out my own
Beautiful bright courageous children
To show them what they could rise above
And perhaps it was wrong
Perhaps it taught the Slytherin house
That their natural place was on the side of
Dark
I don't know

Something was wrong with Salazar Slytherin
We all knew it
But what else was there to do?

(And in the dark hours after the fights
When Hufflepuff and the Ravenclaw Girl were asleep
The taste of his mouth so sweet
No oh how could I
But he was irresistable the power was
Irresistable
He was dark to my light and
Fit into the curve of the candleflame like shadow
Meant to be there)

I blame Salazar, really.
But it could not have been avoided, I think.
There is always dark to the light
It's just that sometimes things lose balance and
It overwhelms
(oh)

When I Come For You
When it comes, it won't be like that.
The real evil never is.

It won't be a war with camps and battlefields
Tents, marching, armaments
Attacks and strategy it won't
Be so clean as all that
Little one.

When it comes, you won't even know it.

Your friends will fall away,
Your old rivalries will become death
You think this one or that one is trying to protect you
But they're not.
They're already

Mine.

When it comes it will be like last time
As all evil ever is --
Insidious.
Growing in the hearts of men willing to
be led rather than lead willing to
give in, give up,
rather than give
every last breath in your body

Don't doubt I'll take it.

And still there will be no battlefields.
This fight is in the soul.

Go on ahead.
Plan for battles.
Meanwhile, my little dark hands
Will slip into the city and oh there
Will be bloodshed in the very streets
Invisible
You won't see it.

This War you speak of.
You're waiting for it.

But I am the War
And I am not going to wait
And you won't even know I've come
Until you draw yourself up for the first battle
And find it is the last.

And what will you do about it,
Boy who Lived?

The Prince's Shadow
I am never the only one, you know.

I remember a time when I was the only
I remember a time when I was just a child
When I did not have fights
When I was not tricked into things such as
Shrieking Shacks
But that was all very long ago

And now I am never alone.

Sometimes I take comfort in the shadows lurking
Looking just over my shoulder
At least they are a distraction
From a life lived and gauged by tests graded,
Children passed,
House points given or taken away.

Most of the time the shadows merely
Make trouble
Make me cross with the children
Most of the time
Most of the time...

But sometimes in dark nights
I wake up and the shadows have faces --
James Potter
Scorns me for being a coward.

Ever since the day
I realised, I am so sorry
I am so sorry Lily
Ever since the day
I have done my penance
I have lived a life alone except for shadows
I have cared for children more than those children
Will ever know. I care for children
I am a good man
I am a teacher not a killer not a traitor not --

And now I am asked to walk back down the paths
Of my stupid, misshapen youthful mistakes
For the children
Because I am a good man
And now I wonder
If I go to him
Will I be able to resist that path again?
Will I still be Severus?
Or will I too be
A shadow?

Hogsmeade
Where did they all go?

There used to be hundreds of wizarding towns,
Cities difficult for Muggles even to find.
There were other places you could go
And not go through London for them.

Now we are the only ones left
Preserved like a museum piece
Plenty of our children go to Hogwarts up the hill.

Wizards scattered, not just when You-Know-Who passed through this life
Before that
When Muggle science took grip,
It was just safer that way.
You-Know-Who only proved that.

Still, it would be nice if we were not the only
If there were other towns.
Then perhaps they could take some of the burden of trouble
That falls on the only one of its kind
In dark days such as these.

Bring Your Army
I can see you,
Tom Riddle.

Every twitch of a smile,
Every flick of long-fingered hands.
Every slide of serpentine eyes.
Every taunt, insult, assault ever hurled at you

I can see them all.
Do you think we are so very different?

You are my mother and father,
You who killed them.
My greatest teacher --
Who could not kill me.

So taunt me
Insult and assault me
Tom Riddle
I am the Boy who Survived You
The Boy who will not die
And you may think your War has begun
But until you face me

You're just a superstition in the night.

You are not a War
Tom Riddle
You are merely an Army
Looking for a fight.

Well, bring it to me, then.

Run wild in the streets, and I will be there.
Plan your little manipulations and I will
Wall them up against you
Bring your best to bear
My father, my mother, my teacher.

We are two children of one destiny.

The battle between us
Could never be the last battle
It must be the first
Because there will be none
Until you stand to face me.

A boy.

Thirteen?
Fifteen?
Seventeen?

Bring it to me, Dark Lord.
Bring your hatred and your dark magic and your Death Eaters.

I am the Boy who Lived
And you are just a name
Voldemort.
If you really were Tom Riddle
You might stand a chance.

But you chose to be a name
And not a boy who once wrestled in the halls,
Told jokes and snuck candy under the teachers' eyes.
You chose myth over manhood.

And when I am a Man
Don't doubt this,
If you have not come for me
I will come for you.

And then
And only then
Will the War begin.

Judges
Opening vollies fired,
what do we know about it?
Perhaps we didn't hear them
Students at school.

We walk the halls
We don't have names
Not to you
Wizarding world.

We are just students
Trying to pass classes
Trying to live through
A newcoming war.

Cannon fodder
Just like our parents
The second coming
Of the deepest dark magic.

We are just students
Faceless in the war
You may never know our names
Perhaps that is better.

Let Harry stand for us.
God he knows
Someone has to stand
For the nameless students.

At Hogwarts School
The first and last battleground.

Epilogue
And am I never to speak?

I, Salazar Slytherin, who am the root and branch of all evil
(if you listen to Godric)
Who was not allowed to speak for his own house?

Am I to remain silent?

I did not intend for death and destruction,
I did not intend that the children in my care
Should be murderers.
I did not intend that my son should be an abhorrence
Any more than Godric wished it.

But I was a child of poverty
I was a fighter
And I was ambitious
And I wanted my children to have
Everything that I did not.

Look at the boy there,
Silver-haired, clever-faced.
Child of privilege.
Beautifully formed.
Intelligent,
Rich family.
Everything I hated because I did not have
I love in him because it is due to me
That he has it.

I did not mean, you little one
I did not mean that anyone should be called
Mud-Blood; they are human as we are,
Poor things.

I only meant to give you a good life,
A pure life,
To make you rich among your own kind.

I had such hopes for Tom.
In Slytherin he should have understood
He should have realised how strong he was,
How great he could be --
But not like this, Tom.

He should not have turned inward.
But what could I,
Less than a ghost --
What could I do?

Only once in a long while,
As he wept at the thought of the orphanage each holiday --
Sometimes I could summon a single finger to brush tears from his cheeks
Sometimes I could give a poor cold comfort.

I have loved my children.
Even those who strayed.
I have shown the compassion that was never shown to me.
If I have thus been an evil man
I have had my punishment.

[identity profile] dargie.livejournal.com 2006-03-20 04:31 pm (UTC)(link)
This really knocked me out. It gives depth to people and things which will never be so treated within canon nor, probably, even within most fanon. I have to say I think the Sorting Hat section was my favorite. But I loved the parallel voices of Tom and Harry, Godric and Salazar. Nicely done.

[identity profile] cerridwen666.livejournal.com 2006-03-20 04:42 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh Sam. That was beautiful. I loved every bit of it.

[identity profile] 3goodtimes.livejournal.com 2006-03-20 05:03 pm (UTC)(link)
I love this.

I'm performing this play right now, so it's nice to see a new take on the text.

[identity profile] maeritrae.livejournal.com 2006-03-20 05:17 pm (UTC)(link)
They're all fascinating. I think I liked Hermione's parenthesis best.

[identity profile] melayneseahawk.livejournal.com 2006-03-20 06:29 pm (UTC)(link)
Beautiful! I'm not a poetry person, but these were great!

[identity profile] gypso-child.livejournal.com 2006-03-20 07:41 pm (UTC)(link)
*huggles Salazar*

Stunning, as always.
ext_13504: Kara Thrace, Starbuck, BSG (Kermit the Frog)

[identity profile] unicornvamp3z.livejournal.com 2006-03-20 09:24 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh how loverly! I really love Examples, from Dumbledore, because it's so him! and the Question, that one was so sweet! i found Little Dragon really interesting, i had never seen Draco that way before. And the poems on the war between Harry and Voldemort, especially Harry's, were just so perfect! and...and...and... just awesomeness!

[identity profile] enkelien.livejournal.com 2006-03-20 10:47 pm (UTC)(link)
I daresay I'm stupid, but... what was The Question they were talking about?

And yes, I was really skeptical of poetry, especially freeverse, but this knocked my socks off omg~! :D

[identity profile] sam-storyteller.livejournal.com 2006-03-21 04:42 am (UTC)(link)
The Question is the boys responding to an imaginary interviewer asking them what it's like to be able to transform into animals. :)

[identity profile] stvincent.livejournal.com 2006-03-20 10:48 pm (UTC)(link)
These were brilliant. Very chilling, some of them, but then I think that was the intent.

Did you revise these much when you reposted? I was wondering particularly about the title of Snape's ("The Prince's Shadow") and the reference to destiny in Harry's.

I noticed particularly the way Voldemort echoed through nearly all of these. Very post-GoF, that. :D Well done.

[identity profile] sam-storyteller.livejournal.com 2006-03-21 04:41 am (UTC)(link)
I revised a little -- took out one poem, took out stanzas of others. Harry's destiny thing, that was there already, but The Prince's Shadow used to be Severus' Shadow. But that's too much SSSS. :D
ext_64921: Deatail from JWWaterhouse's Ophelia [blue dress] (1905). (Narnia)

[identity profile] search-soleil.livejournal.com 2006-03-20 10:50 pm (UTC)(link)
I might say these are a little unpolished, but, overall, I liked them a lot.

Favorites are The Sorting Hat (brilliant), House: Ambition (interesting presentation of the dynamic), The Question (again, interesting dynamic with additional layer of aww!), House: Loyalty (I identify Ravenclaw, but I just loved this, especially the end bit).

[identity profile] sam-storyteller.livejournal.com 2006-03-21 04:40 am (UTC)(link)
Yeah -- to be honest, I'm not very confident in free verse, and I think it shows. But you shoulda seen them before. Man, I wince. :D

[identity profile] dragongirlg.livejournal.com 2006-03-21 12:54 am (UTC)(link)
Wow, I could not stop reading this once I started. These poems are beautiful - they really capture the character in such economic language (oh here go the AP English classes...) - no, but seriously. These are really, really wonderful. The poem where War narrates could seriously be published, excepting the last line.

Well done - well done X100000.

[identity profile] schnuggleme.livejournal.com 2006-03-21 01:07 am (UTC)(link)
Not realising that courage without aim is stupidity
Ambition without ethics is monstrosity.


There are so many wonderful gems like this in all of these poems. They're all brilliant... and beautiful...

[identity profile] adrianabr.livejournal.com 2006-03-21 01:22 am (UTC)(link)
Hi! [livejournal.com profile] dargie made me come here and I'm absolutely glad for that - your writing is brilliant, all poems are amazing and I want to marry you and have your babies, really!!

[identity profile] sam-storyteller.livejournal.com 2006-03-21 04:39 am (UTC)(link)
Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed them :)

[identity profile] lupinspatronus.livejournal.com 2006-03-21 02:24 am (UTC)(link)
Hi, just wanna say I enjoyed this a lot. I like the depth of characterisation and how you've arranged the poems.

In particular I loved Sirius', Harry's (that was powerful, and it represents a matured Harry I'm sure we'll all be proud of) and this from Lupin's:

If you wish to understand me
Tease a wolf and watch its eyes
In the moment before it decides whether to leap for your throat
Or run away.


was especially well-crafted. I love it!

Thanks for sharing, Sam!

from Jazmin3 Firewing

(Anonymous) 2006-03-21 03:14 am (UTC)(link)
Yikes. Loving these poems as much as I love your other stuff, Sam. Lovin' them. You are creepy in the rhythm area, but that fits, it really does. I would be honored, Great One, if you would take a minute, or two, just to come to my page on a site and read, not even review, one or two of my own poems, one poet to another. *bows*
www.fictionpress.com/read.php?storyid=1788141

[identity profile] abernaith.livejournal.com 2006-03-21 05:13 am (UTC)(link)
the one about severus and remus and the sorting hat really pulled me in. esp.

"I'm never wrong, you know.
Don't be afraid."

I keep thinking about Snape nowadays. Er...yeah, it sounds kind of freaky right now (hohoho) but really, how much of Severus Snape was shaped by Fate and circumstances beyond his control, and how much was shaped by his decisions? Was it his fault that he turned so bitter and vindictive bec. the marauders picked on him aggressively when they were young? was it the marauders' fault he turned out the way he did?

*sigh* I just find the fact that snape's world actually revolves around other people's lives--dumbledore, voldemort, the marauders and harry... Without that, without his life of servitude to these people (for he serves harry too, in a way, with his hate), he's really nothing... *sigh* it just depresses me, all of a sudden...
ext_7717: Lilian heart (Default)

[identity profile] lilian-cho.livejournal.com 2006-03-25 09:35 am (UTC)(link)
*sigh* I just find the fact that snape's world actually revolves around other people's lives--dumbledore, voldemort, the marauders and harry... Without that, without his life of servitude to these people (for he serves harry too, in a way, with his hate), he's really nothing... *sigh* it just depresses me, all of a sudden...

:-(

*get depressed too*

Hm I'm going to say smth that will no doubt gets me stoned: I find "The Prince's Shadow" a bit OoC.

It's too...open and honest for Snape, IMO. And I don't think he'll be that honest, even to himself *makes woeful face for Snape*

Because I think he _does_ hate Harry, and it wasn't just posturing for the benefit of Slytherins. Perhaps resentful that Harry comes from a similar background with him yet is so privileged by Dumbledore, the staff, etc. etc. Ironic how Draco comes from a background that is so antithetical to his, yet Draco is much more similar to Snape than Harry is, IMO.

I never did find Snape-caring-for-Harry stories believable, except for your Stealing Harry, Sam. And that's because SH!Harry is a different creature from canon!Harry, being raised by Sirius and Remus and all.

Back to the topic of the post: other than that one poem, I love all the gems here. I always love your Slytherin/Gryffindor writings :-D And your sympathetical!Draco. Eeee~! ♥

[identity profile] sam-storyteller.livejournal.com 2006-03-25 07:31 pm (UTC)(link)
Well, it helps to get the info out there that the Snape poem was pre-OotP, when we knew a lot less about how much he hated Harry. But yes, in retrospect, it is OOC now.
ext_7717: Lilian heart (Default)

[identity profile] lilian-cho.livejournal.com 2006-03-27 07:11 am (UTC)(link)
:-D

So all these poems were written pre-OotP? Wow.

I think the characters that shine most here are Remus (obviously), Riddle and Slytherin. ♥

And I like how you make Lucius kind to Draco. I always thought physically!abusive!Lucius (toward Draco) is OoC. I can see mentally abusive, but not physically abusive...I blame Jason Isaacs and his pimp cane :-P

[identity profile] sanura.livejournal.com 2006-03-21 06:04 am (UTC)(link)
How did I miss these? Ron's and Salazar's are both tear-jerkers, and my tears have been duly jerked. That's not easy to do with poetry, you know. You somehow manage to get the universal much more aptly than JKR, even in her own medium, let alone an ueber-expressive one like free verse.

[identity profile] rorylareina.livejournal.com 2006-03-21 08:55 pm (UTC)(link)
You are the builders of the dreams
In which Godric and Salazar live.


These were all beautiful. i loved this ^ especially, because Hufflepuff always seems to be treated like leftovers, when they're really the most human and down-to-earth of the bunch.

[identity profile] amanuensis1.livejournal.com 2006-03-22 02:30 am (UTC)(link)
Remarkable. "The Sorting Hat" just crumpled me into a ball and disposed of me, I swear.

[identity profile] inkbabies.livejournal.com 2006-03-25 03:00 am (UTC)(link)
Beautiful!
I had read a few of these before (When I come for You, Bring Your Army and SSSS)
They are all beautifully written. I'm glad you posted them!


If you're alone, he said, it's like dying,
Only worse, and a thousand little self-hatreds
All at once too.

But if you've got others, he continued,
It's like...having a really good secret
And telling your best friend.

This line just broke my heart.
ladysugarquill: (Default)

[personal profile] ladysugarquill 2009-03-08 04:27 pm (UTC)(link)
I'm reading these post-DH, and it's amazing how much they fit with canon, specially that one!

[identity profile] umidori.livejournal.com 2006-03-26 12:43 am (UTC)(link)
They are all so wonderful! Ravenclaw's "We will survive, little children", Hermione's fierce "Look into the future", Ron's feeling rich, Ginny's "I know who you are", Remus' sharing a secret with friends - they were so perfect. And the last six or so are - majestic is the best word I can offer.
It took me a couple of moments to figure out who spoke in "Secrets" - the "you know" at the beginning made it Luna for me. ^^; I liked McGonnagall's lying about her age - it seems perfect for her.
I don't agree that never being safe is the price of magic, though - their world seems rather idyllic without Voldemort. Before him there was Grindelwald, of course, but they seem to be more the exceptions to me. Do you think it's always like that in the wizarding world?

[identity profile] sam-storyteller.livejournal.com 2006-03-27 01:58 pm (UTC)(link)
Well, I don't think that the world as a whole is necessarily life-threateningly dangerous, but judging from Harry's six years so far, the world in and of itself is not as safe as the Muggle world. Children who aren't raised in the magical world have a definite disadvantage, and the spellwork and potionswork can be very dangerous if you're not fully educated.

I was thinking of that part of the poem rather like the old Franklin quote: "He who sacrifices a little freedom for a little safety deserves neither."

[identity profile] woelfle.livejournal.com 2006-03-26 07:10 pm (UTC)(link)
Awww - I was actually looking for The Uncle, and stumbled about those. Good old virginal Poems, good old times... your first and already spot-on voyage into Lupin's brain, and of course: I'm a Good Man!

[identity profile] featherwizard.livejournal.com 2006-04-03 12:19 pm (UTC)(link)
Yay!
I love how you get all of your characters to be 3D. It's amazing how much life you put into them, even the ones that really never appear in the books.
This is good. It is very good. Everything you write is good. That seems like an exaggeration, but it's not.

[identity profile] ncmcgonagall.livejournal.com 2006-04-04 03:48 pm (UTC)(link)
What a wonderful overview of the early HP story! You showed the depth in each character, the qualities of the places, and made me feel both the joy and the pain. I particularly appreciate your recognition of Sirius's divided heart and the way you presented it. In many of the sections, the last line made my heart skip a beat. Well done! Thanks for giving me the link to your site.

[identity profile] i-louvre-art.livejournal.com 2008-03-30 02:09 am (UTC)(link)
So I am reading Spoon River right now, again, and was really fascinated by this. I love how well you embraced Master's style and made it your own. Beautifully done!

My favorites were Harry's (so good is inadequate but...), McGonagal's, Ron's, and Remus'. You constantly astound me with how well you master all forms of the English language! Poetry, description, dialogue. I suppose getting told you're brilliant gets boring after a while. I'll think up some nice critique for the next story I read, but not this. It's just too good.

[identity profile] sam-storyteller.livejournal.com 2008-03-30 02:19 am (UTC)(link)
LOL, I'd forgotten all about this poetry, and it's mortifying to read it over now. Glad you enjoyed it, though :)

[identity profile] i-louvre-art.livejournal.com 2008-03-30 03:25 am (UTC)(link)
Mortifying? You have an odd concept of embarrassment, my dear.

How long ago was this anyway? I'm flitting through all your things so I'm never sure. It's really interesting how comfortable you've become with the HP characters and characterizations in general. I've noticed you're a bit more sure. I mean that you are more comfortable with doing something like this instead of a straight story because you are more confident about the character's reactions and emotions. It's cool, which hardly sums it up.

[identity profile] sam-storyteller.livejournal.com 2008-03-30 03:30 am (UTC)(link)
Well, free verse isn't what I'd consider my forte, let's put it that way.

This had to have been originally written sometime in early 2003; I didn't get back into fanfic until late 2002, but I didn't start on HP until 2003 sometime.

What's ironic about what you just said is that all this was written way before I ever wrote any actual HP fanfic. This is literally my first foray into HP. :D

[identity profile] i-louvre-art.livejournal.com 2008-03-30 03:48 am (UTC)(link)
Really? So, let me get this straight, you are ashamed of the beautiful free verse that details, perfectly, characters you have never written before?

*Is floored*

And, I sounded like a babbling, pretentious teenager. Ah. Life.

[identity profile] sam-storyteller.livejournal.com 2008-03-30 04:12 am (UTC)(link)
I don't think it's actually skill in detailing characters that you're seeing in the poetry so much as a certain form of literary arrogance. Ignorance makes us reckless -- I wrote confidently because I had no reason to think I was wrong or doubt myself. The more you learn about a canon, the more doubt and confusion you're liable to have. So, often the earliest work in a given canon, for any author, is more confident and convincing than the later work. It's a sort of con, really.

As for the poetry itself -- well, I've never really pretended to understand how poetry works, other than sonnet-forms, which are structured and usually are supposed to rhyme. So I can't actually judge if my free verse is any good or not. But looking at it, I suspect not.

[identity profile] i-louvre-art.livejournal.com 2008-03-30 06:34 pm (UTC)(link)
"Literary arrogance". Okay, clarifies things, a bit! They more comfortable you become with the characters, the less you want to screw them up. Makes sense. I think you might be a tad bit more comfortable with Remus though, considering how often he pops up in your writing. A small literary man-crush mayhaps?

Now, as for the free verse, I'm sort of a poetry whore. I don't pretend to know a lot, but I am confident in what I do know. You succeeded in writing free verse, in a style similar to Master's, that didn't want to make me toss the monitor across the room because of the poetic blasphemy I was reading, so be confident in that, at least. I can understand why free verse would be an issue if you prefer sonnets, Mr. Graveworthy. It lacks structure and, while that makes it intriguing to read, it can pose a problem when written, especially by someone who embraces the literary formula of the sonnet. Though, around the time free verse was created, America was wreaking havoc with the two traditional forms of European sonnets in order to try to create something American by bastardizing European tradition. We tend to do that a lot. But, that is very digressive to the topic at hand, that is, although you might not like it or understand it, you have talent for poetry.

[identity profile] sam-storyteller.livejournal.com 2008-03-30 07:39 pm (UTC)(link)
Well, Remus is very familiar to me -- I've lived the way he has, hand to mouth, and as a teacher, so it's a bit like writing about me.

I'm glad you enjoyed the poetry, anyway, that's really all that matters :)

[identity profile] treesahquiche.livejournal.com 2008-04-15 10:27 pm (UTC)(link)
Your free verse isn't horrible, however much you seem to dislike writing free verse. I really liked these poems, especially "Epilogue"; thank you.

[identity profile] illereyn.livejournal.com 2009-11-18 03:35 pm (UTC)(link)
Nice poetry, I like how you explored the different motivations and attitudes, even of inanimate subjects like the castle and the sorting hat. The way you make the reader think about who's perspective the poem is written in is really intriguing. Just wondering: in the Sorting Hat's poem, who are the Ravenclaw girl who becomes Minister of Magic, and the Hufflepuff boy whose child is Slytherin? I've identified all but those two.

[identity profile] ravelled-ribbon.livejournal.com 2009-11-30 02:52 am (UTC)(link)
This feels a lot like Spoon River.

[identity profile] sam-storyteller.livejournal.com 2009-11-30 02:55 am (UTC)(link)
Very much meant to :D Thank you!