literature

The Lights Are Speaking to Me Now

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Published: Dec 2, 2014

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Literature Text

The lights are speaking to me now,
a glinting gala on the prow
of my ship. I do not need to
find safety in your arms. I am
trouble with a battering ram
poised behind my eyelids. The hue
of your burnished shields will fail, for
even the gods have assured your
loss. The lights will dance with my crew.

Statistically, we should never have fallen
in love; our hearts were polluted with pollen.
You were never subtle (celestial cranes
hung from the space between us) when handed reins.
You bruised my spirit with the letters you left,
but I will never be a person bereft.
Do not ask me to love you again, because
I never do what I'm asked, remember? Was
my roar, louder than thunder, making your skies
tremble? If not, to your challenge I will rise.
Statistically, we should never have fallen
in love; our hearts were polluted with pollen.

You were never subtle (celestial cranes
hung from the space between us) when handed reins.
I have lions teeth woven in my neck, claws
sharp, they extend from my fingertips; I pause,
my eyes, widened--I'm ready to ambush you.
I carry my mane with honor and our true
intentions do not sway, they are controlled by
our appetite for forgiveness, but my
fur is glossed with your blood. I will not cater
to you at all, I move from your equator.
Statistically, we should never have fallen
in love; our hearts were polluted with pollen.

You bruised my spirit with the letters you left,
I will never become a person bereft.
Your validation does not hang on my hips
and I will not wear it with pride. Eclipses
will wane long before I crawl into your arms,
it is a wonder that I fell for your charms.
I was most unforgiving when you told me
I need your approval--I am not some bee
waiting to swarm a flower, nor am I a
cub, learning the ground beneath me doesn't sway.
Statistically, we should never have fallen
in love; our hearts were polluted with pollen.

There is heat nestled in your
throat--dry, sickly and my shore
is water-logged, but you spat
out that you refuse to moor.

I remind myself that change comes
like a ghost ship flowering with
fog, tumbling forward like a myth.

It is a season that has drums
throbbing until leaves start sobbing
and it pirouettes when our thumbs

are burrowing into the pith.
I remind myself that change comes.

Ghosts
can
only
haunt if you
have guilt, the people
here do, you can see it behind
their chilled eyes and gnawed off fingernails. While the choke damp
hangs thick in the air everyone runs scared, but I remain; for me, there are no ghosts left.

challenge december dfc fixed form forms nove otto rhyme rhyming sammy fixedform licentia decemberformchallenge projectdfc jueju noveotto

DFC 2014 IS HERE! This will be where I put all my poems because I'm going to try and attempt to do it this year and none of them are going to be great, but at least I tried! So, yeah.

Also, please do NOT critique this, I'm well aware that these need fixing, but due to the constraints of the forms I will not be editing these.

Day 1: Nove Otto which is a nine-line, one stanza form with 8 syllables per line. It also has a rhyme scheme.
Day 2: Licentia is a 3 stanza, each 12 lines long, poem. There are 11 syllables per line. There are also
refrains interlaced into each stanza. THANK YOU TO DreamingAutumn and DrippingWords for helping me with this one!

Day 3: Jueju are five syllable (wujue) and seven syllable (qijue) poem variations. It consists of quatrains (minimum= 1) that are rhyming couplets.
Day 4:Octain Refrain - eight lines: two tercets (3 - line stanzas) and one couplet in the structure Abb, aca, bA. Line 1 and Line 8 are identical. he fifth line (c) should have some internal rhyme in it.
Day 5: Fibonacci is based on the Fibonacci sequence.

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