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kilvites

the Day of Ambiguity

So, today we traipsed through Magical Realism and Wulf and Eadwacer, by Tam and Helen consecutively. I was, and am, intrigued by both. There's an elusiveness to the content of each, a liminal ambiguity that is very alluring. I'm currently slipping magical realism into one of the novels pooling in my mind, so I won't post much from that session, but I think the poem inspired by Wulf and Eadwacer should be archived. We  created these initially by taking a page of prose (mine came from Robin McKinley's blog. True story.) and tearing it into sections, then trying to form sentances from the small squares of unrelated words before our eyes. Then we manipulated the sentances into poetry.

Mine, so far, is still



Mistress Listless, lady to the queen, meanders

through wizened islands of light

among the dull, dank leaves. How fleet

the purposeless days of monarchs.

 

Your last death wheezes.

 

The hopeless penalty lies within chance, within

an afternoon king.

I beggar life for my teenaged brother.

In the leaf-light, the long-logged alligators

lurk, undeterred. I am

unwisely committed, entitled

to her husband's lies.

 

Your last death wheezes.

 

Insomniac, the Queen

requests an hour, calls forth the questions

of ribbons and lace.

Where then will the jester's dream be seen? The scene

cannot die, or else malinger. Distant, declares

a garden party, procured

prematurely.

A helpless penalty.

 

The night is dark, and clings like skin, the day

long faded, remaining.

Colourless.

Dry-lipped, Leaf-lisped,

your last death wheezes.

 


**

[In other news, the Book
progresses beautifully.]

Tags: creativity, kilvites, kwe, poetry, writterings
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