Daily writing prompts from June 9th, 2008 to December 31st, 2022
Saturday August 17th, 2019
The exercise: Write a four line poem about: signs. Mine: Then something that should have led to clarity Only muddied the waters: Signs of Bucky and Junior's involvement met With: Am I a bad father?
Hmm, we're into the last third of the year and your story is growing ever more complicated! Still, I like the idea that perhaps Junior is surpassing his father's expectations! I've gathered all of part III so far together, as I usually do once there's enough to read and be interesting; though I'm afraid Madame Sosotris is still speaking and leaving you cliffhanging at the moment.
Signs Part III Madame Sosotris wakes from troubled sleep Where tarot cards deform and Lady Bell- -adonna weeps. Assurances abound In writhing prophetic shapes, the Robot
Now walks to the Angelic Gates that ward The Unreal City from all outsiders. The Shadow waits, observing what the Ro- -bot does. It fears this thing of steel and hate.
The Tarot cards are cast again, a con- -sultation to explain if now is time To act. The answers are unclear: the fog That leads all men astray is thick’ning here
And holds its secrets close. The sailor must Return it seems and while he comes the Ro- -bot will invade the dreams of every liv- -ing child. Madame Sosotris sneezes once.
The Shadow hears her and is drawn. It forms From darkness in the corners of the room. “The hunt is on,” it says and wilts beneath The heated gaze of Fate’s most favoured crone.
“Who hunts the Sailor?” she demands and waves Her blue-veined, claw-like hands describing sig- -ils that the Shadow understands as threats. “The Robot. Let us hope the Sword of Gold
Is proof against its cybernetic wiles! The Sailor must confront it here: the Ci- -ty shall support him as he battles. But When all is said and done I cannot see
Your eyes only meet mine when you have a need. All other times they are fixed on the world. What can I gather save I am a fling, Something that you’ll tire of after a while.
3 comments:
Hmm, we're into the last third of the year and your story is growing ever more complicated! Still, I like the idea that perhaps Junior is surpassing his father's expectations!
I've gathered all of part III so far together, as I usually do once there's enough to read and be interesting; though I'm afraid Madame Sosotris is still speaking and leaving you cliffhanging at the moment.
Signs
Part III
Madame Sosotris wakes from troubled sleep
Where tarot cards deform and Lady Bell-
-adonna weeps. Assurances abound
In writhing prophetic shapes, the Robot
Now walks to the Angelic Gates that ward
The Unreal City from all outsiders.
The Shadow waits, observing what the Ro-
-bot does. It fears this thing of steel and hate.
The Tarot cards are cast again, a con-
-sultation to explain if now is time
To act. The answers are unclear: the fog
That leads all men astray is thick’ning here
And holds its secrets close. The sailor must
Return it seems and while he comes the Ro-
-bot will invade the dreams of every liv-
-ing child. Madame Sosotris sneezes once.
The Shadow hears her and is drawn. It forms
From darkness in the corners of the room.
“The hunt is on,” it says and wilts beneath
The heated gaze of Fate’s most favoured crone.
“Who hunts the Sailor?” she demands and waves
Her blue-veined, claw-like hands describing sig-
-ils that the Shadow understands as threats.
“The Robot. Let us hope the Sword of Gold
Is proof against its cybernetic wiles!
The Sailor must confront it here: the Ci-
-ty shall support him as he battles. But
When all is said and done I cannot see
Your eyes only meet mine when you have a need.
All other times they are fixed on the world.
What can I gather save I am a fling,
Something that you’ll tire of after a while.
Greg - oh yeah, I should put some of mine together again. Forgot we were doing that. I'll try to remember next Saturday.
Hmm, another cliffhanger, but a little less dramatic this time. I'll allow it :P
... As though having to write an epic poem four lines at a time, based on my prompts, isn't a miserable enough task on its own :P
Ivy - this is lovely and sad. Beautifully done.
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