OctPoWriMo - Day 23 Iris and Arke (Arke's Bow)

Writing Prompt: Iris and Arke, the rainbow sisters, both are messengers of the gods. Arke was the muted second rainbow who betrayed her sister and became the messenger of the Titans in the battle of the gods. She was banished to Tartarus after the Zeus and the others gods won.

Think about messengers, and even use the story of Iris and Arke if you want. How do you think those sisters were feeling? What really made Arke leave? What was the message?

Poetic Form: Nonet

Arke's Bow 

We speak in colours arching skyward

and I can feel over shadowed

when my sister speaks in bow--

the language of our kind.

No matter how loud

I try to speak,

I'm muted--

colours,

blur.

cheriedurbin from MorgueFile

WIPpet Wednesday: Meet Melopomene

Tonight is an early WIPpet Wednesday. I am really plowing into and through this Modern Muses story. I am not sure I will keep the title, but for know it works.

WIPpet Wednesday is the brain child of K. L. Schwengel, writer, blogger, and photog of sheep and various wildlife. Rules are this, take your WIP and select a snippet from it to share, using the day's date to connect back to the WIP. Today's date is 8/26 (a little early). The math I will use is  8+2+6=16 lines from Modern Muses. I have shown you Teri and Thalos. This week is Mel's turn. This is going back to back arriving at Mel's "friends" house. This is when we meet Mel. Also go visit my fellow WIPpeteer here!

“Hey Hey,” a voice called from the heavens and suddenly someone appeared, while the crowds of people pushed past the two muses. Thalos couldn’t tell if it was a male or female he was seeing in front of them. The figure had short dark hair and dyed a bright shade of blue and a jovial smile as he came up to Thalos. “Talo, sup my man?” laying some skin on Thalos’ now open hand. 

“Uh, nothing.” He was trying to remember who this was. They were short, barely adult size, but that meant nothing to an immortal. The eyes were quick and shifty, but they were smiling too. 

“Don’t remember me do ya?”

Thalos shrugged and tried to play it cool. “It’s been a while. Been busy.” Teri laughed suddenly, a short bark that belied that Thalos was lying, if only slightly.

“No, not really. You look awfully familiar though.”

Poetry Catch up: Clerihew and Persona Poetry

Not feeling that great, sinus headache and returning from outta town. More on that later...

I need to get caught up on my poetry prompts. I miss two (I free wrote instead) days. For this I feel guilty, so, Dear Readers, I give you a Clerihew. Not really my forte. I have a hard time writing rhyming funny/witty things. Rhyming, yes, I have gotten quite good at it. But, the funny or witty lines often comes across as silly. Still I attempt it, with that I present my Clerihew about The Doctor.

A Clerihew is a comic verse consisting of two couplets and a specific rhyming scheme, aabb invented by Edmund Clerihew Bentley (1875-1956) at the age of 16. The poem is about/deals with a person/character within the first rhyme. In most cases, the first line names a person, and the second line ends with something that rhymes with the name of the person.

The Doctor's a Timelord

within his own mind warred.

A troubled man who, often flustered

he still love fish fingers and custard.

For today's prompt, a persona poem I am sharing an older poem, but a personal favourite.

Today, I challenge you to write a persona poem – a poem in the voice of someone else. Your persona could be a mythological or fictional character, a historical figure, or even an inanimate object. Need some examples?

This one is dedicated to Rod. It's a most romanticize version of the history, but it's one of the few poems from the year 1998 that I am really proud of. I was in college and it was probably written for a class. Hope you enjoy my retro flashback (I know that's a redundant statement). It's not quite in the main characters voice, I realize this now...

Anastasia

Once a family,

So proud it stood, amidst the

Snowy undertow.

Where one would freeze, their

Hearts pure gold: dusty heavens

Fall.

On  Father’s knee, she loved

Him best, the Czar, Nikolai

She was his pride and joy.

But not forever, for Rasputin, he came too.

Eyes cold, bitter heart,

He made the people bellow

War on the house, Romanov.

Her golden joy kept Nikolai warm

When rebellion

Kicked full in.

But in the end, dreams do

Fall through.

Cold memories buried in that

Undertow.

None knew how she did not

Perish,

But no small golden child

Lies there among fig-like trees.

Some day soon there will be

A golden day.  That melts

The ice he, Rasputin did create and

Rightfully proclaim

Romanov, her name.

And two that are...Can you guess to whom the voices belong to, Dear Readers? (Note: all these poem are from the year 1998).

Darkness

It was in a dream--

I was once beautiful,
Some say I still am,
But I no longer think so.

I live in a world of darkness
That cuddles my bones
And holds my pathetic body together.

Before this torment,
I was young,
Naive,
A silly girl with foolish dreams.

The darkness is my home now,
Despite all my "loving" husband does for me.
I expect nothing from him
His heart has long been in the
Ground,
Eaten away by bugs.

Darkness wraps around my body,
Holding onto my lips that are moist
With his sweat.
The babbling idiot.

Such a silly girl who sits and eats Pomegranate seeds
That condemns her
To her lord and master,
Hades.

His teeth smell like rotten fruit
His overall appeal leaves something
To be desired.
His hands touch my Virgin skin,
And makes my blood boil like Apollo's ball of fire.

So here I am
In the darkness to conceal what mother doesn't know.

Mother,
You hold no place for me. You
Have banned me, your own flesh and blood, condemned me.
No help from dear sweet mother.

Leave me to my darkness
That is the one love of my life.

A Fair Light

Only I have wished for this, 

My dream is now the reality.

In wedded bliss

She did come

And here, yes here, she will stay.

A promise that she would be true

Through the compromise springtime

Did make.

She lights the endless hallways,

The dark ways that incessantly drip

Sulfuric tendencies into my brain.

She is the lavender that dispels the molding dankness of this 

hollowed abyss

It wafts through my nostrils, my muscles pulsate for her touch.

These Plutonian Shores,

So desolate that I droop like a dried up olive tree,

No sunlight comes here.

Her presence lightens the branches

And harvests my soul.

Death tolls every hour,

Minute,

Second of my life.

It is her, the fair light in eternal darkness.