Once upon a time--
The world was young, then,
And Australia was somewhere the hell
By Africa, where Cyprus is--
Once, we were one.
[But memories are
A body’s worries;
Perhaps it was
A different time, when
The New and Old Worlds came together]
We lived and lusted
And felt nothing for men--
Wearing beards, we played the maid anyway
And wed him when our time came.
[As is expected, of course,
Crusted lust dies after time elapses,
And he longed for new playthings.]
We were called the Wicked One--
With red hair, our body practically begged for the flames,
And with a white land-owning male’s
Honest
Lips,
The people lit us like fags.
It was your fault, though.
I loved little, and certainly did not
Love that girl, the one who you really wanted.
So when our soul was born again,
The cells of the body forming in our mother’s womb,
I left you.
Divided.
Sister tornadoes, we will never be one again;
My winds shall rip through yours
And hurl whole cars at you,
And I shall steal from you all that I want.
Author notes
Pff...Wow, this is gonna be a confusing one. ;xD Sorry, I hope this is kinda what you asked for... Where to begin? Okay, well, I chose Picture 1 ( http://i10.photobucket.com/albums/a123/BabulaSuperQueen/BacterialSkies.png ), and what I saw in it was Africa. I also saw like...an Australia-on-crack looking thing where Cyprus should be, and in the middle of the picture I saw two swirly things that I decided are tornadoes or waterspouts.
’Kay...and I’ve been writing a novel that, in short, involves a girl who is a bisexual/lesbian, and who has an identical twin [this poem is from the point of view of this other twin]. Because they are identical twins, they started from the same egg in the womb, which later divided—aka, they had the same soul, which also divided.
Back up to around the Colonial times, when the people’s understanding of what the world looked like was different than what we know it looks like today (which links to seeing in the picture the continents all misplaced). In their past life, their soul was still one soul. In that lifetime, the husband got bored of his wife, convinced the people she was a witch, and she was burned at the stake.
Back at the present: The identical-twin soul is blaming the burning-at-the-stake incident on the bi/lez half of the soul, and when their soul is reborn into this new life, the one half of the soul decides to leave the other half, so instead of the soul occupying one person, it occupies two--each of the twins.
;xD I’m really sorry if that confused you. Basically your picture reminded me of part my story, plus some more. Actually, you just helped me out on developing more of my novel! =DD Thank you!
*** For the note: “beard” is a term for a gay/lesbian who marries the OPPOSITE (not same) sex just to be accepted by society; and when I use the term “fag”, I do NOT mean it to be offensive. I used the word in both of its meanings--to refer a “bundle of sticks” (which one would use in a fire), as well as the meaning of “homosexual” (also, a possible origin for the word “fag” to mean a homosexual could be that homosexuals were used in place of firewood for witch burnings in medieval England)
A contest entry
- Picture Inspiration: A Delve into Eloquent Depths by FunnelWaxFate.
550 points, ended April 7, 2007, 7 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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Eri-chan, I'd get it more if you didn't explain it all and made it so damn confusing dearie. I like it though <3 in truth I like all your poetry. I saw the word fags and I had to laugh because it's something I don't expect much from you but I know I always get it no matter what <3 -sigh- I lubs you eri-chan ^^ tehe, you're the bestest -huggelfs- anyway.. tehee again, you have some obsession with lesbians and bisexual people =D like me -cheers-
and I don't mind it but can't you do something up, spice it up more, write about what's going on in your head and figure out it relates to you somehow, something about truth more then a story, more then facts? Yeah, I ask a lot about people but it's just an idea <3 Daisky <3
-Morning
-crymy-
-pixie- -
I'm glad you explained it a little because I was quite confused. I'm still a little lost, but I think that this is a very well written poem and I kinda like your use of the word "fag" though I figured a cigarette and not a bundle of sticks for the same reason as FunnelWaxFate did. Wonderful write and good luck in the contest.
Hell Angel
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Lovely!
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The most appealing factor about this piece is that it is completely free and very unique and creative. The emotion is powerful and the flow is rather good. The metaphors are excellent. I especially loved the line “The people lit us like fags”, mostly because I relate fags to cigarettes, and since people seem to light up rather excessively and compulsively, as such they are a known bad habit, it sort of provided a nice imagery for me, made it very real and vivid in my mind, adding a deeper meaning; animosity seemed to reign through. I detect a strong sense of bitterness and longing in this piece. It is very provoking of the sympathetic senses of the reader. It makes the reader lament for the speaker of this piece; it’s written in such a creative, powerful, boundless angel and insight, that the poem leaves a mark on the reader’s mind, or at least, it did me. The tone in this is captivating; the piece has a mood of its own. It is rather dark, rhythmic, bitter; sad…it is the sort of poem that stirs a great deal of emotion and provokes a good sense of pensiveness. I can see it even relating very much to modern times, as well as history. It really appeals. I love how boundless, creative and smart this piece is. It has a great deal of passion, intelligence and interest. It has a message to be heard. The title really adds a strong meaning to the piece, as well, and draws the reader instantly. Well done. Superb read! Thank you for entering!
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Wow, that was one hell of a long comment.
THANK YOU!! I'm so glad you liked it, I was afraid it might've been too much of a leap between the photo and the subject of my poem... 
Anyway, it's a pleasure to be in your contest.
~ [eRi]ca ~
P.S. - I pride myself in my metaphors; I'm happy to see that you pointed them out! 
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