Fluke

Responding to my own line (badly) because I's bored.

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Would you hold it for me?

Would you ensure it's safe?

Could you wait and see?

Could you stand the chafe?

Would you hold it for me?

Would you treat it as art?

Could you let me be free?

Could you keep my heart?

---

Next line - Dusk and other deadly dances

The snow-capped mountains of hell

He grunted as the last pick fell

Whoever said this was a good idea

Obviously had a head full of dust hair

The snow-capped mountains of hell

Where if falling no one would hear you yell

The peak is here but what view for me

More damned mountains and then the sea

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Oops, next line.... - Would you hold it for me?

OOC: EEee *wriggles* My thanks, I look forward to exploring The Pen further.

Thank you all!

I tend to only write in free form.

Haiku's were the only form of poetry that they managed to impress on me properly at school. Sonnets terrify me.

She shifted her feet for the dozenth time, trying to remember all that she had meant to say before approaching the door. Palms clenching with a squelch before she looked down with a disgusted sigh; shaking the hands out with a mutter.

"You are a calm and secure person with a lot to offer, you make a good carrot cake and can fold laundry without wrinkles, no worries!"

The last of that motivational speech came out slightly cracked and raised, an eyebrow joined it as she shook her head at her own folly.

"Just knock on the door, what is the worst that could happen?"

"Uh, uh, laughter and looks that ask why I've bought a scrap of ink dotted paper to a place of such importance?"

"I need to stop talking to myself, what if someone is in there, hears this and adds crazy to the list, just drop it and go Fluke!"

Heeding her own perhaps slightly over reactive advice she placed the paper with all the squiggles and ink blots carefully on the floor in front of the door. Perhaps with luck, the wind might blow it away and now one need ever know she had ventured here. She turned and started away with stealthy little steps better suited to a skulk.

Below are the sum of the marks on the paper in full.

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Applicant: Fluke

Age: Does that still apply these days? I don't know, Botox has changed things and women old enough to be my grandmother look thirty. When did everyone younger than me start looking like they're prepubescent and definitely not old enough to be driving by themselves? 30.

Writing form of Choice: Do I have to choose just one? I mean I would choose poetry but to be honest I would miss telling stories and being involved in them, there's a great deal to miss out on in this world.

Description: Over exuberant with a dash of terror? Or do they mean my looks? A strange lady with odd clothing and brightly coloured hair? Or my brain... foggy and caffeine fueled run by a Squirrel and a Cat.

Applicational Submitted Writing:

Lift thine eyes to the tumbling heavens

Drink ye cup of darkened spirits

For tonight I shall tell ye of magical wonders

And show ye all I have seen

Blood crusted Jewels

Stone cold, uncaring

A sweet lovers caress

Softly warm and heartfelt

Keep an eye on the path for it is rocky and hard fought

And listen to all of the words you've been taught

But remember of all the ones of love

The sweet bewitchment that comes from above.

I'm naught but a wanderer and though my passion flies

My pen is held with wooden hand that captures but a guise

Of silken thoughts that float across a space that does not understand time

My head is filled with imagery that cannot be described

My soul longs to give voice to what I see but it hunkers deep inside

Please accept this humble offering, I'm sorry if it slights

My poetry is what I do when I cannot sleep at nights.

The Teal Poet

Fluke

A topic dear to my heart, I like the escapism this poem implies.

Loving your imagery.