The End. For a Time.

Dearest Reader,

If this so happens to be the first post on this blog page that you are reading, I would encourage you to refer back to my first pieces, leading up to my most recent works.

The purpose of this post is to inform you that I shall no longer be updating this blog page on a semi-regular basis. School has ended for the year and summer has arrived, which means that I will be busier than ever. However, summer is a time of inspiration, so do not be surprised if I update again on rare occasion in the not-so-near future.

It has been an honor and a privilege to have my work surveyed for critique by an online audience of followers such as yourselves.

As you can see, my work has progressed over time from beginning to end. Poetry means very much to me, I hope that this has become evident to you with each progressive post.

I look forward to updating this blog again someday. Until then, I thank you for reading.

Most sincerely,

~Jacob P. Hartges

Awestruck

Awestruck

I once saw a girl,

Who made my mind twirl,

With gentleness broad,

Seemingly never flawed,

And beauty,

Down to the last curl.

This girl left me speechless,

With her radiating uniqueness,

I tried not to stare,

For no one could compare,

Entranced, that I was,

I confess.

When our eyes first did meet,

My heart skipped a beat,

Should I jump at this chance,

Based on one passing glance?

I could fail,

But succeed in defeat.

I summoned the nerve,

Taking chance on a curve,

Snapping out of my trance,

I asked her to dance,

And to my surprise,

She said yes.

With her hand in mine,

We danced in good time,

In the light of the moon,

To the lighthearted tune,

Unbound, that we were,

Unconfined.

We danced to the rhythm,

Stepping well, with precision,

Now feeling inclined,

Something clear in my mind,

Came to call,

A hope, a vision.

She needed to know,

I could not let her go,

She was special, kind,

A rare jewel to find,

And fascinating,

If only to me.

Be it true to this day,

I feel the same way,

Be it true from the start,

I felt in my heart,

A tug, a pull,

Towards this girl.

Curiosity consumes my mind,

Where have you been all this time?

Leaving me left to think, to ponder,

Every feeling, each of wonder,

Although the dance was somewhat tiring,

I found this sweet girl most inspiring.

It seemed too much to comprehend,

And as she left, inside I said,

"Goodbye for now! Farewell!"

The end.

Background: "Awestruck" took me a little over a month to write. The poem was started back in early November of 2010 and soon completed by mid December. Stricken with the concept after attending an annual monthly dance, I was instantly captivated by the idea of two strangers meeting at a dance and falling for one another. The meter and rhyme scheme are both off, but I am hoping you shall be able to overlook the lack of organization and appreciate the overall effect.

Basics: "Awestruck" encompasses the initial moments of a man's encounter with an attractive, young lady he meets while attending a dance. The boy takes notice that she is quiet and gentle, while noting several other of her most notable qualities. He soon becomes awestruck by her very presence after sharing a dance with her. Alas, his opportunity to say goodbye to her comes and goes. Instead he envisions himself saying goodbye to her although the moment's already passed. Essentially what I desired for the piece to come across as, was a brief story regarding that magical instance when one realizes there's something different about that person. Something worth taking note of and becoming legitimately awestruck over.

Feel free to comment and criticize. I welcome all feedback.

Most sincerely,

~Jacob P. Hartges

To Win the Heart of a Stranger

To Win the Heart of a Stranger

To win the heart of a stranger, one must be:

Kind, complimentary,

Not to the point of over-flattering.

Prudent, wholesome, fully stable,

Educated, caring, wholly able.

Humorous, respectful, knowledgeable,

Not to mention exceedingly honorable.

Helpful, noble, gentle, tender,

Under control, as not to hurt her.

Witty, cleaver, humble, charming,

Not annoying or alarming.

Honest, refined, polite, sincere,

Proving to each of these adhere.

If one intends to win a stranger,

One must follow every rule.

Wisely keeping clear of danger,

Avoiding looking like a fool.

Attributes opposing these,

Are, in fact, quite crude and canny.

So apply said qualities,

As to become more gentlemanly!

Background: "To Win the Heart of a Stranger" was written back in December of 2010 after an encounter with a rather... Rude, individual. This piece was directly inspired by the exact opposite of who this person was. I got to thinking, "how on earth is this person going to meet somebody and get married... ?" Then I began considering the necessary attributes a person would need in order to attract an individual. At least, a majority of them. The meter is off, but the rhyme scheme is coherently consistent. This piece was written in a matter of minutes after considering the opposing attributes which the young person I met exhibited. Hopefully you have found that this poem has several elements of truth to it.

Basics: "To Win the Heart of a Stranger" details a Gentleman, giving another man advice on how to become more like him, in order to win the heart of one desired. Notice that there are no implications towards physical appearance being a key attribute in attracting one desired. All elements have to do a person's attitude/response. Winning a person is so much more than being the strongest, or fasted, or most handsome. To truly win someone over, one must possess qualities that surpass the physical realm.

Feel free to comment and criticize. I welcome all feedback.

Most sincerely,

~Jacob P. Hartges

Our Story

Our Story

When at first I saw you,

I knew not whom I'd found.

You smiled at me, curiously,

And I wasn't sure why,

But this intrigued me.

Could I make you mine?

When you first saw me,

A puzzled expression crossed your face.

Surprisingly, when I blushed, you did too,

At which point, things just fell into place.

Could you make me yours?

When we first spoke,

It was as though the stars aligned.

Everything just... Fit.

You claimed my voice was your reassurance.

Even if I spoke too much.

Though we had our differences,

We still had each other.

In a spellbinding instance,

Over a long summer...

Both our hearts changed with the passing of time,

When you made me yours, and I made you mine.

Background: "Our Story" is an original based off an original. In all honesty, it's difficult to put a sufficient explanatory tag on this piece. This is the one and only piece where I wrote the end before I wrote the beginning. The end was written long ago, but it was not until semi-recently that I came up with a "prelude" for the "climax", so to speak. July of last year marked the month when I completed this poem. Affectionate wording and sweetness of tone ranked as top priority above a substantial meter and rhyme scheme (as, I am sure, you're beginning to recognize as it has become increasingly evident over the past few posts). Properly conveying a message is more important to me than following the "rules." As I have stated in the past, "free-verse" is also an expression of feeling and ultimately considered poetic. Hopefully you are able to appreciate my subtle use of rhyme though not strictly enforced.

Basics: "Our Story" depicts the beginning stages of a love story. A first for two, young people. He smiles, she smiles back, he blushes, so does she. These simplicities are intended to imply purity in each of their intentions. The boy admits to being slightly outspoken, to which the girl responds be reassuring him that his voice is soothing to her. As the poem progresses, it becomes evident that the two have met towards the beginning of summertime. A question soon arises: could this romance be temporal or permanent? The answer remains uncertain. What is clarified, is that the two individuals meekly give their hearts to one another at the duration of summer. Because the piece ends on a gratifying, positive note, it is implied that the two lover's romance beginning in summer continues on, even after the season ends.

Feel free to comment and criticize. I welcome all feedback.

Most sincerely,

~Jacob P. Hartges

To Be Loved

To Be Loved

Teardrops stain the pages as I write,

My ears are alert,

For someone, anyone,

Silently approaching.

Years of sorrow,

Crash down as this one single moment,

Walks up from behind,

And taps me on the shoulder.

She whispers,

"I know what you wish for."

A final tear drips down my cheek,

As I listen, but dare not turn around.

She continues,

"But I also know your secret."

I shudder, knowing she is correct.

"And the answer is no."

When I turn around,

No one is present.

To be loved is one's nature.

To be loved is a miracle.

Background: "To Be Loved" was inspired by a rainy day back in May of last year. I pictured a lonely man in my own backyard, sitting on a stump we have placed next to our fire pit out back. As the rain pitter-pattered against the window, I jotted down the first thoughts that came to mind regarding the concept of affection going full-circle. Bizarre, how such a simple thing as rain can inspire one's train of thought into motion. No rhyming and no meter make this, yet another, free verse piece. Like my others, this poem is also written in first person. Despite the lack of rhyming and meter, I attempted to keep the piece organized, nevertheless.

Basics: "To Be Loved" accompanies a man when he's struck with an epiphany. The man sullenly sits upon a stump, writing something. Be it a letter, journal entry, or poem? Vague and unknown answer. The man is ready to hide what he's writing at a moments notice. He feels as though his life has been building up to something and that in this precise moment, his next move could be pivotal. Vague and unknown answer. Suddenly, he's struck with an epiphany. Although (as stated before) this piece is lacking meter and rhyme scheme, an element of symbolism protrudes. The "she" which the piece refers to, is the epiphany. Initially the epiphany is introduced in a metaphysical sense, but as she continues to whisper, I wanted the man to be struck so intently by her words that she almost appears real (hence his reason for turning around and seeing no one). In the most blatant usage of vague wording, I have the epiphany speak her final words to the man. Utterly vague and unknown answer.

The man sits, pondering how he can love someone so much, but fail to be loved in return. His epiphany? Finally accepting his worst nightmare: That he is not loved in return. It is human nature to love someone, but to receive the same level of affection in return is a miracle. The poem ends as this striking realization occurs to the man.

Feel free to comment and criticize. I welcome all feedback.

Most sincerely,

~Jacob P. Hartges

What a Wonderful Caricature of Sincerity

I cannot believe it's taken me this long to post again. It appears as though my timing is impeccable. Only two more weeks until the end of the school year. This is beneficial because I have four more pieces to present that are worthy of posting online. If I stay true to my "every other week" principle for these four two pieces (posting two tonight and two next week), than my final two pieces shall be posted on the last day of school (for me), the 24th of May.

I apologize for neglecting to post on a regular basis. It is unnatural for me. But, life has its unexpected twists and turns which could almost justify my absentminded lack of sincerity.

My second to last piece is in the process of being proof read.

For tonight, I post yet another piece of myself.

Most sincerely,

~Jacob P. Hartges

Hold the Phone!

Hey everyone!

So this week I won't be posting a poem because I'll be busy performing in HPA's production of Brigadoon! The following Tuesday I will be posting. Just a heads up!

Thanks!

Most sincerely,

~Jacob P. Hartges

Oops! Said the Barber.

Oops! Said the Barber.

"Oops!" Said the Barber...

Then the customer cried...

"You've cut it too short!"

He said right away,

Going on to contort,

"What a mess! Disarray!"

Anyway, the Barber then spoke...

"Hey Mr. Grouch! To you I convey,

I haven't betrayed,

Not at all I do say!

You sit here and whine, while me you survey,

When I haven't an ill trait of mine to display!

I've put up with you, to this very day,

Never once leading astray,

But now I give way!

You're downright rude, so please don't stay,

Leave here, begone now, you got it? Okay?!"

The man replied...

"If I may, I have many friends,

And it may seen cliche,

But I'll name all of them!

There's Ray, Clay, Bray,

May, Kay, Shay,

Janey, Renee, McVey,

Hongwei, Jaquay, and O'Shea.

I apologize for the delay, Mr. Barber,

But in the U.S.A.,

If you make my hair stray,

Which cannot be sprayed,

So it will not stay,

But instead sway,

YOU, I do not have to pay!

So I MAY disobey, got it Jose?"

So the man left, to buy a toupee.

Background: The inspiration for "Oops! Said the Barber" came at the duration of receiving an unfavorable haircut. I had to deal with short, unpleasant hair for five miserable weeks while I waited for it to grow back. After receiving this haircut, I began thinking of my distasteful experience and decided to write out my feelings in comical poem form. The only significance of this piece is that the characters feelings mirrored my own at the time... There is (obviously) NO particular rhyme scheme or meter. A majority of the end consonants rhyme with each other, though the overall effect is relatively choppy. I actually posted this on my main blog page (http://discoverdomostria.blogspot.com/2010/04/oops-said-barber.html) a while back.

Basics: A man receives a poor haircut by a barber one day. The barber reacts indignantly by stating that he has never made a mistake before and the man has no reason to be angry or rude. To this the man reacts by telling off the barber and abruptly leaving the barber shot. Oddly enough, both the characters speak in rhyme. ;)

I apologize that the piece for this week isn't that impressive... When I wrote this piece, it took me all of twenty minutes from start to finish (including proof reading!) to organize the work to where it was in a satisfactory state. I chose this piece for this week because I've been bogged down with exams... When I post on the 5th, I shall have a better piece to share.

Thank you for reading!

Feel free to comment and criticize. I welcome all feedback.

Most sincerely,

~Jacob P. Hartges

Box Of Memories

Box Of Memories

I shipped a box to Europe,

With memories inside,

Of feelings past and deeper hopes,

I never thought I'd hide.

In this box were artifacts,

And letters which we wrote,

When we were young and sidetracked,

And sailed the seas of life afloat.

Back I think to years gone by,

To days I thought I'd treasure,

Knowing not we'd go awry,

And face a great endeavor.

Her laugh was quite the pleasing sound,

More than a trifle chuckle.

When heard, my heart would leap a bound,

And both my knees would buckle.

Lush green eyes of hers I'd catch,

Whenever she did wink.

Eyes like hers no one could match,

Not ever I don't think!

Her hair was medium in length,

Shining bright and gold.

The sight of it brought inner strength,

A true sight to behold!

Her face was soft and ripe with youth,

And lightly painted features.

Her perfect smile was easy proof,

There was no finer creature!

What a beauty that was she,

Glorious and picturesque.

At a time someone could see,

A picture of her on my desk.

I close my eyes,

And shake my head,

And breathe a sigh,

And frown instead.

I frown to think that once before,

She was my greatest inspiration.

A constant joy to me and more,

Without a single indignation.

The thought of us and what we had,

Truly makes me cry,

Because she thought me all that bad,

And judged me by and by.

She was my first unwritten song,

Which never ceased inside my mind,

A song I searched for, oh so long,

But never thought I'd find.

Now the music's halting, ending,

I simply can't recall the words.

This song of mine has lost its meaning,

In place of it is pain and hurt.

This horrid bitterness controls me,

From the inside out.

I don't know who, or what to be,

Because of all this doubt.

Sadness, anger, woe!

Inflicted on my very heart.

Injected by this single girl,

Who's torn it clear apart.

I gave a once full heart to you,

To do with as you may.

Alas, I was a bitter fool,

And clueless, I convey.

To your fickle ways,

Of shallow implication.

You seemed to say,

I wasn't worth your attention.

On the day you moved away,

I met you near your old wind chime.

Little had we left to say,

Knowing it was time.

When you finally left this place,

You turned and walked into the dawn.

Stepping with a matchless grace,

Until each step of yours was gone.

Now I snap back from the past,

Blinking back the tears.

Reliving shadows being cast,

Feeling somewhat queer.

I live here now all on my own,

Without your sweet embrace.

You moved to Europe all alone,

Your problems yours to face.

I think, wonder, question, anticipate...

Did you receive my package?

Background: "Box Of Memories" is, in essence, my "crowning glory piece." Written in early April of last year, I feel confident in saying that this piece best exemplifies my writing capabilities. During late March of 2010, I had a conversation with a fellow poet pertaining to "epic poems." It was during this conversation that I realized I had not yet written an "epic" piece which involved serious rhyming, meter, depth, or symbolism. I understand that this piece can hardly be called "epic" (for those of you who are unfamiliar with this term in relation to poetry, an "epic" can be translated to: a poem with length which tells a story). Though it is short in relation to actual "epic" poems/stories (i.e. The Canterbury Tales, The Odyssey, The Iliad), "Box Of Memories" is a more lengthy piece for me, hence my reason for calling it an "epic."

I attempted to stick to an Iambic Pentameter, but as you can see, I diverted from this in a few of the stanzas. Although the meter isn't perfect, the rhyme scheme is quite sound (ABAB). The piece is written in first person reminiscent.

I had been meaning to write a short story in poem form for quite some time, and I was pleased to finally accomplish this ambition after being inspired by circumstances between the time frame of late March to early April.

Basics: "Box Of Memories" gives an account of a man who reminisces about a past lover while mourning the recent tragedy which was their downfall. He remembers her physical appearance while taking careful note of her flawless attributes. In the beginning and ending of the poem, a box of memories is mentioned. The box is significant because it symbolizes the love that the man and the woman shared. There are two possible options which the reader may conclude the man is sending the box to his ex-lover.

1.) Sending the box is a final plea for the woman to change her mind and come back to him.

2.) Sending the box is a negative, insightful act to remind his ex-love of the bittersweet romance they shared.

Neither is specified as to prick the imagination so that you might come to your own conclusion. After describing the woman's radiant features, the man details how special this woman was to him. You may notice that the man switches halfway through the poem from talking about the woman, to addressing her directly, as if he is actually talking to her. I did this on purpose to emphasize the man's standpoint. He then goes on to explain that she eventually rejected him due to problematic personal issues which arose between them in the midst of their relationship. He reacts by claiming that he was abundantly foolish to entrust her with his heart in the first place, for she grew tired of him and began ignoring his words of endearment and acts of affection. In frustration and desperation, the woman moves to Europe as a final attempt to distance herself from the man, leaving him to deal with his conflicting feelings of bitterness and admiration.

I very much enjoy writing pieces that end in woeful tragedy. As strange as it may sound, it makes me feel like Edgar Allan Poe... He happens to be one of my favorite poets for those of you who might have wondered. What I truly desired was to write a poem that was touching and sweet, with a surprising yet captivating twist to the end.

This poem embodies the very heart and soul of what I enjoy writing, and I cannot thank you enough for taking the time to read a little piece of me.

Feel free to comment and criticize. I welcome all feedback.

Most sincerely,

~Jacob P. Hartges

If You Need Me

If You Need Me

When the sun rises, I'll be here,

When the sun sets, I'll be here.

When the moon shines, I'll be watching,

When the stars glisten, I'll be watching.

At every moment of the day,

I'll be watching from afar.

From the distance, here I stay,

Looming as a star.

If you want me now, I'll be waiting ,

If you want me not, I'll still be here.

If down you are, and spirits fading,

I wish for you to call me, dear.

At times we do misunderstand,

And separate ways we go,

But in the end we comprehend,

The truth which we now know.

That if you ever lose your way,

Or find by chance you happen to fear,

A hardship that is not okay,

I'll save you from the nightmare, dear.

With all my heart I wish you'd run,

To me with all your troubles,

But no, I see you wish to shun,

When all of your pain doubles.

When you need a friendly face,

Or someone to be near,

I'll hold you in a close embrace,

Because I love you, dear.

Just know this:

When the sun rises, I'll be here,

When the sun sets, I'll be here.

When the moon shines, I'll be watching,

When the stars glisten, I'll be watching.

So have some confidence in me,

Here for you, I'll always be.

Background: "If You Need Me" was written around the same time as "Letter of Recognition." As a reader, it is more than probable that you will draw similarities between the two poems. Both pieces deal with about the same concept. While I was writing "Letter of Recognition", rhythmic lines began popping into my head. These lines I wrote on a separate piece of paper so that I might create a better structured piece. While "Letter of Recognition" can easily be defined as my poetic musings, "If You Need Me" is a better structured poem conveying an almost identical message. You shall (hopefully) notice that a majority of the lines are rhythmically in tune. Though lacking in perfect rhyme and rhythm consistency, the general idea remains unwavering.

Basics: "If You Need Me" is essentially a man's declaration of loyalty to his lover. The man affirms in the beginning of the piece that he shall be readily available at all times to comfort and encourage her. At the end of the piece, the man reaffirms this statement once more to further demonstrate his sincerity. What makes this piece different from "Letter of Recognition" is that the character in this piece is less persistent than the character in "Letter of Recognition." This character leaves the option of sharing more intimacies up to the girl. Though persistent indeed, he is conscious of the possibility that she may value her privacy more than their relationship.

Thank you for reading!

Feel free to comment and criticize, I welcome all feedback.

~Jacob P. Hartges

A Letter of Recognition

A Letter of Recognition

Each day I am with her, I see her pain.

I watch it, this sadness, hinted upon her beautiful face,

And though she masks this sorrow with a smile,

Still I see through it, I know her too well.

It grieves me so, to hear that she is hurting.

Even so, I do all I can to help.

Yet I wonder if it has any effect...

I pray, and listen, and comfort, and empathize,

How can she be so disheartened?

I urge her to share with me, for I do truly care.

She's independent and strong, a leader in the making.

Does she not realize these trials occur to make her stronger?

I wonder.

It surprises and astounds me,

How she can encourage me and put my world back into perspective,

And not ask for anything in return...

She is so busy giving away love to others,

Yet she keeps barely enough for herself.

Selfless love such as this should never be forgotten, especially by those to whom it's given so freely.

My definition?

She's selfless, kind, a true friend, in a single word, heroic.

I wish more than anything she would see,

I want to be there for her.

She does not need to hide from herself,

Even if part of her struggles at times.

Don't hide it, I'm here to help.

Your tone of voice gives it away,

Believe it or not, I can see it in your eyes.

Exposing your weakness is not weakness, it is strength.

Bridge the gap, take a step, close your eyes, open your mouth, and speak what you feel.

So one more time she smiles at me, and says, "All is well."

I nod in helpless agreement, and silent adoration.

Background: "Letter of Recognition" was written last year. The inspiration for this piece originated from my writing letters to a friend. While writing one day, the concept hit me, "Why not conjure up a piece detailing the complexities and disappointments of a poorly functioning relationship" (keep in mind, this friend of mine and I were getting along perfectly well!). Though there is nothing structurally adhesive to this piece, I would like to hope that you, as a follower (and potentially critic) of my work, might appreciate the thought and time I put into this piece. In posting this one, I do feel comfortable in stating that I believe this is one of my better works. No, there is technically not a rhyme scheme or meter in this poem, but hopefully you will find that the words are rhythmic and cohesive at parts.

Basics: "Letter of Recognition" is ultimately a self-explanatory piece. A man feels as though the person he is in a relationship with, is not sharing personal details with him. He takes notice that she is struggling through life's trials, and so desires to comfort and empathize with her. But she is independent, not desiring any assistance from him. The man reassures with many comforting words, only to be denied. However, his respect for her is unwavering. The man admires her for her independent nature, but at the same time understands that this same quality keeps her from opening up and sharing with him.

Thank you for reading! Please feel free to comment and criticize. I welcome all feedback.

~Jacob P. Hartges

Poison

Poison

Although my time was not yet fit,

I boldly took a sip of it.

The taste was not of one to savor,

In truth it was a horrid flavor.

I drank the mix to kill the pain,

Of sorrows past which brought no gain.

Though now I'm having second thoughts,

As I grow faint from inner knots.

I drop the cup that did me in,

For now my head is in a spin.

From this cruel fate that I had chosen,

I lost my life to deadly poison.

Background: "Poison" was written just over a year ago for American Literature class. The piece received an "A", but also got me into a bit of trouble... After turning in the poem for evaluation, my literature teacher interpreted the poem as though I was actually suicidal! A major "oops" on my part. Maybe next time I write a downcast poem on poison drinking, I will remember to write it in third person. Ironically, the teacher held a brief meeting with my parents to ensure that I was not suicidal. My mother of course affirmed to the teacher that the poem was strictly fictional. Although the piece is perfect in meter and rhyme scheme, "Poison" received only an "A" due to the dark/disturbing subject. Once again to clarify, the piece was written as an assignment for literature class with NO predetermined background pretext! If you have been paying attention to any of my previous works, you will clearly see that I have a deep appreciation for life.

Sadness is simply an emotion I enjoy attempting to evoke at times.

Basics: "Poison" details a man who chooses to commit suicide after overwhelming worldly burdens overpower his thoughts. At first, the drinking of poison appears very appealing to the man, but he soon realizes upon drinking the mix, that suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. The man is filled with regret as his final moments come and go in a flash.

Thank you for reading! Please feel free to comment and criticize. I welcome all feedback.

~Jacob P. Hartges

Forbidden

Forbidden

We met just last year, through friends of our friends,

But now things have changed, as do such trends.

We have much in common, both artists the same,

We both chase our dreams, and reach for the fame.

No relationship between us can ever be built,

Endless would be the tears and a lifetime of guilt.

Secretly meeting just wouldn't be fair,

Because my heart's taken, by one I do care.

This pretty, young girl, I am very fond,

But careful of my feelings, I can't let them bond.

Mixed emotions running wild,

Feelings farce and not so mild.

Affection from her I shall never gain,

And if she did give it, there'd be nothing but pain.

Our talks together I will never forget,

Though with each passing one, I start to regret,

The attachment that my heart has let form,

I won't let it happen, desires can't reform.

These words of false love shall never be spoken,

For if this were done so, both hearts would be broken.

So us, as just artists, is all we'll remain,

Nothing but this secret, my heart will refrain,

From selfish wishes, these feelings stay hidden,

Along with hopes, desires, and a love that's forbidden.

Background: "Forbidden" was written about three years ago. It started out as an experimental piece with little depth, but after a few weeks, I decided to turn my scribbles into a seven stanza first person piece. You may possibly be thinking, "but Jake, there are only six stanzas!" To which I might respond, "how correct you are, oh insightful reader!" My first draft originally had seven stanzas, but after much deliberation, I decided that the piece was better without the seventh (which was located in the direct center of the poem). As for the concept itself, a few hours of brainstorming and experimenting led me to create "Forbidden." This piece is significant to me because this is where I first tried to make the rhyming exact and fluid. Notice that this is the first piece I have posted with a sufficient rhyme scheme (though lacking in perfect meter).

Basics: "Forbidden" tells a short story of a man with a taxing decision to make. He is currently seeing someone, but has a secret desire for another woman. The man claims that he and this woman both have much in common because of their similar professions. Back and forth the man debates within his mind what he should do/which path he should take. He knows that in confessing his feelings to this woman, he is forfeiting the woman he is currently with because that would render him unfaithful. Regretful, but firm in his final decision, the man decides to keep his inner desires secret, all the while deeming himself selfish. What the man is obviously feeling is not love of the heart, but lust of the flesh. I attempted to make this evident throughout the course of the poem. Though ignorant enough to consider the possibility of committing infidelity, the man's final decision proves him unworthy of a title deeming him completely unfaithful.

Thank you for Reading! Please feel free to comment and criticize. I welcome all feedback.

~Jacob P. Hartges