He finished his book, watched the moon glow red on the day. With closed eyes, he inhaled … as if in a dream. A flash, then he falls away.
Into the deep, his arms like tentacles flap as if he’s waving goodbye. There’s panic, an unheard scream, bubbles bursting towards the sky.
Down in the grime the muck and the slime beside the hull of an upturned boat, Protrude oars, like arms reaching out … as if to get ahold of his throat.
An eel comes to look at the boy with a book, who into the water was spilt.Who struggles and fights, his legs disturbing the silt.
Deep he plunges, the light disappears in a mist. Like angelic detritus he floats, intoxicated with heavenly bliss.
The dark clears, a nymph beckons with barely a flick of her wrist. A wisp of a thing lures him deep. Her face he tenderly kissed.
Heβs now way below,
Where tides
ebb and flow.
And dreams
Reappear
With
The
Fish.
This re worked piece gets a second chance as I attempt to capture something new.
Did my foray into fantasy work? Answers will be most welcome *waves*
This was really good! I love writing that can make you feel certain emotions with fewer words, this made me feel a sense of panic and wonder at the same time. I really enjoyed it.
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Thank you for reading. X
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Love the imagery and the intensity – great tension! Could easily have come from the poetry book i have been testing my daughter on for her literature exam!
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Thank you so much and I wish your daughter luck!
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I love it and how the letters form a downward plunge.
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Thanks Suzie.
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enjoyed. I can see it going somewhere. So yes to fantasy!
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A nice comment thank you.
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You definitely succeeded, great poem…fantastic imagery
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Thank you. Do come again soon. X
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It reads like a Dickinson- love it.
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Praise indeed … i will take that and hold it for a while. X
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Am glad you like It!
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Exciting right off the bat as he struggles. But also scary! And then you somehow realize part way through his struggles are weakening, “not even a flick of his wrist” some creature down below and then he’s gone just floating. But perhaps, (I get the feeling) in the end, there is some kind of peace in death. Well written.
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I did manage to express it then I am relieved, you never know if the reader will see what you were doing. So thank you for commenting and participating.
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You’re welcome
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I felt myself moving down, down, down, as I read this. And I want to know what happened next. So I’d say it worked well!
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Ah ha *claps* you found where I was going. Thank you.
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Brava!
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Takes a bow. π
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π
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*stands whilst applauding*
You most certainly succeeded! Well done – delightfully creepy!
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*claps with ghusto*
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You definitely succeeded. I love this poem. π
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Oh thank you Grace, it doesn’t seem to have been received as well by my readers. I was toying with deleting it. But both you and I like it so I will leave it here. People can’t like everything we write… Can they. Now I am smiling so thank you foryour comments.
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Wow. Not every writting is for everyone. Just hv to write what comes to your heart. You should definitely keep it. π
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I will and I do. X
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ππ
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You most certainly succeeded. Even the layout slithers down
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Thanks Derrick I am chuffed that you got it. π
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‘dreams reappear with the fish.’ I like that! I htink you should try writing this into a piece of prose, or something like a haibun.
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Halibut oh dear now i will have to look it up, you and your ‘ try it it’s simple’ i have heard before *scratches head*. Ha ha my predictive text spelled it Halibut not laughed so much in ages.
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Halibut is appropriate! Take the hint and have a go π
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I will think on it Jane, but really these quirky counting syllable type poems are not my bag … π―π
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The haibun is a short piece of prose that you can make as lyrical as you like (suits me fine π ) and you end it with a haiku that reflects your prose. Haiku doesn’t have to be syllable rigid. It’s Japanese after all, not English. Just a short three-liner image. Go on. Try it.
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Oh the pressure Jane you are a fierce pusher of form… #Iamthinkingofthinking
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I get a commission for every poem published π
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You probably get something from challenging me and watching me squirm.
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Bonus π
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