Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.
You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.
Click hereI
There is longing even
in the deepest cornflower,
where fishes swim
among anemones and coral.
Castles rise with pearly spires,
the sea flows in shades
of rainblue. The Sun is distant,
a watery purple flower.
There is longing even so
because no birds sing
to morning, no wheels turn,
scattering dust.
What do stars mean
in a murky world,
what does sky?
What is acquiescence
when somewhere else
grass tickles your legs,
and you, Sun-warmed,
dream shapes in clouds?
Walking on legs, on moving feet!
Walking among the scent of day,
earth and growing, rain and smoke.
Walking somewhere new,
every step away from familiarity
bleeding with regret and delight,
walking in a twilight of pain and freedom,
but moving forward, voiceless words
spoken only in the heart.
II
I journeyed to another world
to save a dying prince. I felt
air stir my hair, saw stars unrippled,
set against black. The wide stillness
of sky gave me breath. I could not
swallow, but I saw rooms bright
with candlelight, felt warmed by fire.
Every step hurt. I did not know
my direction, everything apparent
shifted. I was spun to land
from an uncharted latitude,
flung to oxygen. I could not speak,
held everything behind my bones,
felt the cut of polarity, of distance.
I danced.
My prince loves me.
He holds me. He puts
his trust in my hands. He shows
me his weeping heart. I try
to protect it. Unspeaking.
I try to protect my own.
III.
I can not stay. I can not
stay for love or land
beneath feet barely tried.
To live without a voice
is not to live. The pale cast
of memory strains the air
in this undiscovered country.
I am undiscovered, awash
in currents of human babel,
turned awry, being and unbeing,
scattered as the foam,
now gathered on sand,
now carried on waves.
very well crafted Ang. The parts T mentioned were the ones I had picked out to quote!
I think you definately need the numbers. They clarify the phases.
I know this is to a story, but I am finding it difficult to swallow the prince part. It seems more directive than the rest-- like you are telling the story at that point instead of letting us walk along (or swim along) with you and the mermaid.
beautiful work, Ang!
such unspeakable sorrow and this:
~I can not stay. I can not
stay for love or land
beneath feet barely tried.
To live without a voice
is not to live. ~
That is beautiful.
your fairt Tale poems always show the crafting and attention to the minute detals that make each word as vital as a cornerstone.
I understand the numbers and i think you should keep them, in my humble opinion.
A magical work
One i'd be proud to read to grandsons and daughters and watch their eyes widen and then tear for the beauty contained here.
Thank you Ange
I have not been touched by anothers poetry so deeply in a long time. This can not be praised in rhetoric.. it is felt, with tears and joyful soaring of life recognized. F'ning(sorry I only use power language like that when I can't voice any other way lol).. beautiful, painful and cosmic. Thank you for your talent and soul displayed for others to see that they are not alone..
blessings
du Lac
centaurea? I'm thick, no idea what the cornflower was.
Easily the best thing I've read of this length, the flow is fantastic. This adroit use of repetition, that you employ amazes me:
"Walking on legs, on moving feet!
Walking among the scent of day,
earth and growing, rain and smoke.
Walking somewhere new,"
This ending, strong summation
"scattered as the foam,
now gathered on sand,
now carried on waves."
introduction of "polarity" gives more definition to this line, which most would have failed at:
"felt the cut of polarity, of distance."
so much more here, so much more,
nice play here:
"shades of rainblue."
The only thing that bothers me, is the double use of "flower" in the opening has a tendency to take it away from where you are.
to summ,
Wow
The sections themselves are delineated so well the numbers are actually superfluous. Just a bit more space between the three sections would work equally well. This could almost be three little poems with a little work. I particularly like the word play in the third section, although some may find it "vague"....LOL!