For The Poets

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Phoenix Poetry

Submitted: October 11, 2016

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Submitted: October 11, 2016

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I board the rim of a lonely boat

Named 'Her Art'

She tilts and quakes, as if drunk

On Eastern rum

Where she slumps- upon the breast-side

Lake, I paddle; 

Behind the foliage and pea plants

Black eyes glare 

With shaking spears, they are silent

For words aren't worth it

Nor effort, as I'm too small

So they leave, 

Returning to the wild, wearing

Golden figures as jewellery; 

Peering up, a fusty smell swoons my brain 

A castle, Alas! 

I bob, as a blanket of frost rests my strength

And I notice

A poor man, sobbing on the edge of a battlement 

Corner-stoned L

“What's wrong with you?” I ask

“My boat!” he cries

“It's all I had! You stole her and she's sinking!” 

And she was! 

For a wound on the Northern port 

Was gaping and splintered, 

Floods of silver shells poured in

And I was swallowed- whole

And spat out, for I was not of taste; 

My eyes, 

Glazed by a bleeding crevasse 

Caught a white dress 

Fluttering among arrow slits

The Queen! 

I swam where the water was brown

-under the closed drawbridge-

Where an all-black panda chewed a bamboo

Before I could speak, 

It was gone- as a crow, made wingless by wood 

How do I enter? 

As crests of water cradled me 

Into the Sun, 

Screams of tormented lovers and battered men of creed 

Were heard beyond; 

My hair-grain fingers clung medieval stone 

Hatching arched bones, 

Petted by the pain of longing

At last! A crevice! 

I heaved myself upwards, battling liquid anchors 

-I was an expatriate 

For I did not belong here, no one did; 

My ears, a winter moon

Lead me to a clamour 

Where I peeked

Through a rodents window- and was astonished

To see a phenomenal woman 

Choking on an endless torrent 

And a man of whit 

Pinned to the wall- stretched by torsion perceptions 

They were prisoners! 

How long had they been trapped here? 

A curtain from hell

Swayed open upon stage- a performance ready; 

My heart exploded, 

A roaring blaze began, igniting embers of will

Among drained souls 

And they rose, all rose from the ashes 

-In each dripping cell

And exhibitions, Apollo's children broke free

And I ran, 

Ran to the courtyard, squared by the drawbridge

-I was greeted

And unnoticed, by a stampede of dirty feet 

Sprinting for freedom; 

We jostled against limitation as arrows of lead and ink were fired upon us

-Many were struck

And Lalla fell, dead, resting among a flower bed; 

We surged- 

Finally! The castles tongue stuck out-

Resting above the moat

The weeping man was reunited with his boat! 

We were indomitable! 

For we are air, and alive! 

And this is life! 

 

You are, too.


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