Little white sailing boats
got caught within a tunnel,
til a wave rescued them
and they were grateful,
and showed it in slurred speech
and convulsions and closed eyes.
They told a story later
of their own fateful accord.
While they told it, around them
the land changed and contorted.
The words bled onto paper
and the food was dry and bland...
all too literally for their tastes,
and so they held the country tightly.
Too tightly in fact,
so that the bridges
collapsed and crumbled,
and the frozen lakes
overflowed, like eyes,
while the heart of it
sank,
into the first ever
man-made volcano.
Author notes
I take it you know metaphors and extended metaphors, and all of that. So I'll leave it to you, shall I?
A contest entry
- Anything by Virgoan.
450 points, ended October 26, 2007, 19 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Improvements?
Comments
-
There is something good on this piece. I like the certainty in its uncertainty.
Well done.
Thanks for sharing and keep writing.
VIRGOAN
-
Holy smokes Darling! What a read this one is!! This is deep! Well now that I am a bit speechless!
Best of luck in this contest!
Ek is lief vir jou altyd
Mom
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