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Second day of National Poetry Month. Bravo. Hurray. So exhilirating to write a poem a day! Okay, on to the prompts.
Robert Lee Brewer's suggestion today is "a Two-for-Tuesday prompt. For those new to the challenge, you have the option of writing to the first prompt or the second prompt — or even both if you feel so inclined." Robert's two-for-Tuesday choices are "a bright poem" and "a dark poem."
From Maureen Thorson we have this prompt: "a poem that tells a lie. I think you could have a poem that’s all lies (that could be very funny — full of things like 'the sun is the size of a nickel') or a poem that steadily builds to telling one big whopper."
For my Day Two poem, I give you a single poem with two sections, a bright one and a dark one. There you go, Robert. And I decided it would be "one big whopper," à la Maureen. Remember how yesterday she suggested "stealing" a first line from a poem to be one's first line? Today, I stole Maureen's sample lie and used it as my first line. ;-) Okay, here we go. Buckle yo.ur se.at be.lts!
How Eternal Night Was Created
1. "The sun is the size of a nickel,"
mused Icarus, flapping his wings
in slow, graceful waves. Though
he said drachma, don't you think?
Icarus boldly swooped upward,
his beechwood pinions creaking
like yew trees bent in a storm,
goatskin leather snapping in wi.nd.
Icarus envisioned licking the white
disk and slapping it on his forehead.
The sun as third eye, he'd heard,
would make the bearer an emperor.
He soared and climbed three days,
the sun shining the entire trip,
until Icarus could extend his hand
to cup it, a small flattened seashell.
Icarus plucked the brilliant sun
from the sky, like picking an olive
or a pome.granate. Bringing the coin
to his lips, his fingers slipped and
it slid past his tongue and down
his gullet. The body of Icarus glowed
for an instant, radiating an aura
of blazing, dazzling incandescence.
Then Icarus exploded. Blew up.
Blasted. Flared. Burst. Shattered
into a trillion glittery particles
sprayed out across the sky. Stars.
2. So there you have it. Deepest dark.
Midnight without end. Sky blue
vanished for ever. Never aga.in
a rainbow or a bright sundog.
Only the blood red moon swims
across the firmament, rivers
and oceans of molten stone
pox her face, alchemists tell us.
No flowers painting the land
as when Icarus lived: magnolias,
amaryllis, and roses in dreams;
lilies, irises, and orchids in legend.
The land itself barren: obsidian
and granite crags, jagged spars
of sharp ice, cliffs, promontories,
harsh peaks of rugged mountains.
Icarus? He got his heart's desire.
His wings forever curve across
the empyrean night. His morsels
scintillate like jewels in a crown.
—Draft by Vince Gotera [Do not copy or quote . . . thanks.]
What do you think? Please let me know via a comment below. I would really appreciate it. Thanks.
Come back tomorrow for Poem Three. Ingat, everyone. Look both ways and drive or walk or ride or whatever carefully. If you really need to text, pull over, please. :-D
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