She grew up with the coyotes and the cactus. Shoving her way through the West Bank and soaking up the salt from the Dead Sea, she was immune to the dripping kisses of the snakes. Mother was a mourning person and her father was unknown, leaving in fear of her blue eyed lack of pupils. Because even when they couldn't see the prism effect, they still burned deep into him.
Climbing out of bed in the sticky heat, she was blind and brushing the spider plants hanging from her darkened walls. And her ear to their green casing, they whispered into her, "Twenty thousand paces to Jericho, you will see the truth."
Spinning, she let her finger land on fate's direction and walked northwest until her knees hurt and her mind was sore from counting, the seeing-eye bird guiding her way.
Burning like a ball of gas through the sandy sidewalks, she strolls the streets in a haze of morning sunshine resurrection, pressure of gazes hot on her neck as they wonder about her hip length hair, jet black and contrasting against the white of her swinging cane. Grey asphalt is cooking her dusty soles beneath the sandals - thin as tissue papers and going to ribbons, on her feet since infancy.
Laying herself down among the Sycamore shades she listened to the Jordan, trickling water quite possibly telling her what blue tastes like, and how it's the only color eagles can see.
Not quite so different from her.
And hearing the sharp snap of wood underfoot, she is propped up by tan arms and soft touch, a whisper in her ear, "Welcome to the City of Palms." next to a hand over her eyes.
Fragrant skin engulfing her senses, she reaches with shaking hands to lift the thick velvet that kept her eyes from seeing the light.
Color washing through her newly black optic nerves, she could see down to the core and hear gravity screaming "Let me go."
With his wobbling hands, lifting calloused fingers from her scarring face, he breathes "And the blind shall be healed."
Those fingertips, grainy with fine lines and empty words, pointed to a raw wooden rocking chair,
unfinished and unclean,
though wholer than us.
Written in scratches, and custom made in Jericho
The first thing she has ever seen.
Author notes
Nude furniture - custom made in Jericho
A contest entry
- ANYTHING GOES by VerminVomit.
1300 points, ended March 9, 146 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Should you be on my favorites? by unraveled.
700 points, ended March 15, 52 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - the audition round. by stargazer..
800 points, ended May 21, 54 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - round one; your best prewrite. by August Starlight.
765 points, ended March 21, 93 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Still needs work, HELP revising.
Comments
1 - 18 of 18
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Wow, this is stunning... amazing imagery and an interesting tale.
I wish I could comment this more properly, honestly. But I'm kinda at a loss for words.
Thank you for entering and good luck. -
that's one creative poem.
and the imagery is stunning, you describe everything phenomenally.
it's amazing how you've made this ugly chair feel like... some.... something really meaningful.
i love it.
thank you so much for entering -
Originality: (10/10)
Emotion: (9/10)
Poetic devices: (18/20)
Structure/flow: (8/10)
Cohension: (9/10)
Title relating to poem: (9/10)
Personal opinion: (10/10)
Syntax: (9/10)
Diction: (10/10)
Total:92/100
This is amazing, your imagery is very vivid. -
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Thank you
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interesting, i'm not sure i fully understand the story, but i enjoyed reading anyway. your imagery is well done throughout. i liked this line the best, i think: "trickling water quite possibly telling her what blue tastes like, and how it's the only color eagles can see"
thanks for the entry
-cassidy
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thanks for reading
it was about a blind woman who gets healed.
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"Laying herself down among the Sycamore shades she listened to the Jordan, trickling water quite possibly telling her what blue tastes like, and how it's the only color eagles can see.
Not quite so different from her." Wow. This bit of it was STUNNING. Well, the whole thing was good, mind you, but stuff like the word trickling and phrases like "what blue tastes like"... wow. Explosion of images!
"Those fingertips, grainy with fine lines and empty words, pointed to a raw wooden rocking chair,
unfinished and unclean,
though wholer than us." Holy cow. O.O *jaw drops*
Could you GET any better? Wow.
And YOU think I'M good? That's hilarious. xD
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Jeeez!
Your so sweet!!
I definitely COULD get better, haha, maybe one day I will be lucky enough to be as good as you!!
<333 -
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Are you kidding me? You are, right?
You are BETTER than me, I'd say.
Go through my poetry and notice: all of it starts to sound the same after a while. Seriously. xD
But thanks for calling me sweet & for liking my random little poetic thoughts. ^^
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Really an interesting take on the prompt. I love the imagination and spirituality of this one, it's certainly not the story I would have envisioned. This was why i offered the prompts out, sometimes I am too limited to really take charge of them, which you have done here..
a new name
and a new poem
I'm glad to find you here.
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Thank you
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Brilliant story, I really enjoyed this! Your use of the language is impeccable. I honestly wouldn't change anything. Thanks for entering, I'm adding you to the finalists' list.
-Lena -
this overall was a very wonderful piece that really dips you into the charters as you become attached to their story . great work
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Good luck on the contest, I don't know what to say except that is is wonderful. The imagry and prose are great, lok foward to reading more of your work.
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This is excellent prose
Fantastic imagery -
Wow this is so.... it's hard to explain, you so intricately worded this, It's so mysterious and thoughtful, I like it
Great write Thanks for entering this contest and good luck.
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Wow, this is so beautiful! Thank you so much for entering!
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i wish i had something to say to revise this, but honestly like it exactly the way it is, it's a really strong piece of prose that tells an amazing story with the prompt, best of luck in the contest
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