Truth? Two fellow Tripodians and me, we took to the road for shopping one fine winter day.
Lovely day... lovely lunch... wonderful company, Janet and Lori are. Not terribly disposed to forcing a
tempted woman to stick to her budget, though... hee hee... and I came away with a Magnetic Poetry kit.
For those who don't know, these are the ultimate fridge toys... 1200 or so words to plaster all over the
door and craft into poetry. Never much of a poet, I was hooked... and here are the results.
This isn't REALLY a fridge poem, but I wrote it about the same time, and several friends have said that they really like it. Norse mythos and love... well, it makes sense to me!
Tethered fast with fenris chains tight binding Manacles fragile yet cutting strong Fellow travellers two, down this darkling path winding Fellow pris'ners ill-matched, we stumble along. Bullshit. We tied these lines End to end, each a bit frayed And damp, as cheeks with tears. We tied them -- we two Not me to you - Nor you to me. We. The dwarves and Aesir tricked the wolf All unwitting Into writhing captivity Until death do them part. Nobody fooled us.
My very first MP poem... these three untitled pieces are actually writing exercises, of a sort. A character in a prose story of mine, Quentin,
is prone to writing love poetry for his lady... so I decided that fridge poetry would be an interesting way of going about it, and a way of making the words sound more like him than me... if that makes any sense!
& me I worship always will whisper about beauty sing these delerious true moments and say a thousand tiny essential tounguings of you for if we dream together love is you my friend
A poem borne of a bored and chilly Tripodian wishing it were spring, so she could plant a garden...
shadow night like a dream of eternity light misty power playing through the thousand diamond roses in the soaring garden of our black winter sky whispers in the breasts of those who lie together beneath its delicate petals of sleep
Opting to continue Quentin's romantic kick... this one was composed on Valentine's Eve.
of a bare crushing need I ask watching the moon incubate the languid summer night shadows raw beneath the light two together you and I delerious in its sweet power say you will never leave