Muddiest —
that leaden headed fog,
too thick,
groping,
pestilent,
holds this heaven and earth.
Softly tripping on slippery
pretence
its owlish drawl from padded
madhouse, dead
in every churchyard,
its threadbare dress
exhausts the brain and
breaks the heart..
That is not honorable —
this murky afternoon (in wig and gown)
suits no crumb
squeezed dry.
Waterloo Bridge In The Fog by Claude Monet
Today Victoria hosts at dVerse, and we do Blackout poetry. Find a poem in any text you have. I invite you to guess which book it comes from.
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October 26, 2017
This is AWESOME. I love blackout poetry.
The second stanza is my favorite.
Muddiest —
that leaden headed fog,
too thick,
groping,
pestilent,
This is definitely pea-soup fog. We lived in the Isle of Man for a few years and if you had to go over the mountain (Snaefell) there was a warning sign if Manannan’s cloak (the fog) was down. It was quicker to go over the mountain so sometimes you would risk it, only to find 10 minutes in that it was a grave mistake and that the concentration required to get through the groping pestilence did fair exhaust the brain.
Wonderful poem.
I like this line that emerged from this challenge “Softly tripping on slippery pretence.”
I like this, falls somewhere between Poe & Conan-Doyle for me. It builds suspense & has a palpable sense of place. Blackout poems, creation from another’s words, is a strong challenge. I, too, used fog in my piece. I like your line /its owl drawl from padded madhouse/.
Amazing found Bjorn ~ Love the imagery: leaden headed fog, slippery pretence and the conclusion of not being honorable.
I will not guess, since I know–but the atmosphere you create fits so well–both the novel and the eerie thoughts of this time of the year. After living a couple of years in Brittany, I thought I would be happy never to see fog again, but now I so enjoy its moods and the beauty you can see when ascending above it.
I also know which book and am impressed with the outcome, Bjorn. My favourite lines:
‘Softly tripping on slippery
pretence
its owlish drawl from padded
madhouse…’
The imagery of the fog holding the heaven and earth is sublime. You put it all together and created something fresh.
Amazing. Have no idea which book….but I especially love that second stanza! You are masterful at this with only one page!
It was a page with a lot of words 🙂
I liked the phrase “its threadbare dress
exhausts the brain”
Could the mystery author be Thomas Hardy? (brave of me to take the challenge?)
Ha… close in time, but another Giant author 🙂
Masterful example of blackout poetry, Bjorn!
Such a good write – it seems to capture the foggy essence of the original text – thanks for posting the original blacked out page too – the line ‘exhausts the brain and breaks the heart’ – is a ripper – both in the original tale and in your verse.
Is there, perchance, a Polly in the ‘Hall’ on this one? 🙂 Wonderful erasing and much appreciation for the Monet.
I do not remember any Polly… but let’s say that the beginning of the novel is a lot about fog…
London.
The book is Bleak house
Then he stole the owl line from Caine Hall. Haha
And the first sentence of the novel is not even a sentence….
London.
Ha! Yep
Sounds like Dickens to me, and the legal wigs and gowns makes me think of Bleak House. The fog and the sludge certainly sounds very Dickensian.
Excellent
Thanks Bjorn.
Sorry about the odd response—I thought the comment was about my effort 🙂 Did I do good?
You did excellent, especially loved the closing.
🙂 I was pleased to find that Charlotte came up with a few choice words so I could end it.
🙂 I think the 19th century English authors are excellent to use… when I’m not inspired I just find a random page of Bleak house and then I find a poem…
Great idea. I am toying with the idea of taking a line of poetry a day as a prompt instead of bothering with NaNo this year.
I could not guess. Fie the fog! and admire Monet…
I shall this on every foggy day. If it hokds heaven and earth, perhaps not so dishonorable. Nice poem.
So fun! Agggrrr too much working not enough writing this week! This is awesome.
‘It’s threadbare dress
Exhausts the brain and
breaks the heart’
Is my favorite
I’m afraid I can’t hazzard a guess as to the book – but what an interesting exercise. I thought that: ‘in every churchyard, its threadbare dress exhausts the brain and breaks the heart.’
was fantastic. I’ve never known, the somewhat flukish fall of words to come together, quite so thrillingly. I have tried similar exercises and I’ve never been quite so lucky. Smiles
I love this spooky fog. Not a Dickens fan but what you changed his prose into is marvelous.