Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to “write a poem that is a portrait of someone important to you. It doesn’t need to focus so much on what a person looks (or looked) like, as what they are or were.” The corresponding GoodRead’s Author’s Quote for the A to Z Challenge, begins with the letter I. Thanks toNEEKNERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menageriewho provided the wonderfully creepy photograph.
“If I’d been born a ghoul, I think I would’ve killed people. I just happened to be born a human. That’s the only reason why I’m allowed to live a moral life.” ― Sui Ishida
I knew her as a little girl,
Though others thought her odd.
She had that “something” about her,
People either loved or abhorred.
At first, I thought, she was enormously strange,
But her quirks endeared me to her.
She protected me from those cruel girls,
One smile from her, they stumbled away on their heels.
She had shocking violet hair on one side,
She was never quite a blond.
Always experimenting with new looks,
Trying to glean from her appearance,
Who she was inside herself.
Her eyes a brilliant cornflower blue glimmered,
When some person made her enraged.
Her friends all knew some stupid student,
Would soon regret their actions;
She only had to smile.
And some bullies face turned violet, rouge, or primrose.
My friend was odd but lively,
Never afraid to do anything.
Dragging me along, to be a part of her drama.
Of her wicked practical jokes,
Others whispered she was a bit ‘Tim Burton,’
Calling her the ‘corpse bride.’
But she would always smile,
In a way that scared many,
Who never knew the truth about her —
She was passionate, kind, and loyal.
If you could get past her walls, her insecurities,
She was most lovely and grew to be a beauty.
Her hair still half-purple — it was her thing.
How we knew her for her.
Her terrifying smile gleamed,
She could now afford braces,
For teeth that had scared everyone.
And when the braces disappeared,
Her teeth stood in straight white rows.
Her grim frown had turned forever upside down,
She was no longer that weird girl.
Though there was still ‘something’ about her;
Strange became a talent, something sought after,
When she transformed into a swan.
She became a cut diamond, no longer rough, she was —
Kyria had been warned since she was a small child, beyond the veil was dangerous. Her older siblings had told her monsters lived there, that there were witches waiting to eat a young child.
What the adults said wasn’t much better. Her Grandma Iris said she’d lose her soul if she was caught in the veil beyond. She talked about shape shifters and immortal creatures of the dark such as vampires and werewolves.
One day hanging the laundry on the line at her grandmothers, Kyria gazed at the veil nearby. She hadn’t thought of it for a long time and she wasn’t sure why it called to her now. She’d never admit she could hear the whispers of the creatures which lived their. They were tempting her and she knew it.
Did everyone in the village see the veil as she did? Kyria believed they had no idea where it physically was, that to them it was was only folklore for children and not a real thing; it was extremely real to Kyria and she knew for her grandmother as well.
Kyria was twenty-four and long past the age of adulthood. Her parents lived together and her siblings with their families. She hadn’t found a suitable man to marry so her father decided she should move in with her ailing Grandmother and care for her. He thought she needed to be of use somewhere since she hadn’t married quickly as her sisters did.
The more Kyria thought about the veil and the mist shrouding it, the more she thought about how she’d never put herself out there in life. She’d always done what she was told and when others failed she was the one who took their place, who filled in so everything went smoothly.
It was how she made up for her so-called “selfishness,” still being single and not having children for her family and village. She wondered why she had never pushed her boundaries and was tired of being ruled by her father’s and her grandmother’s whims.
Kyria loved her Grandma Iris the most because she understood Kyria better than anyone. But her grandma still cautioned her to never cross the veil daily. But grandma was inside sleeping and Kyria heard the whispers from veil more and more these days. They were a sirens call to her.
She ignored all she had been told by her grandma, her family, and her friends as a child. She decided today she would cross the shrouded veil into the other world. Dropping the laundry Kyria walked towards the veil and into the mist surrounding it. The veil shimmered as she came closer and sonorous voice could be heard singing on the other side.
When she reached the line where the spiritual and natural worlds met Kyria stopped for a moment and stood. She smiled and with both hands raised in front of her she was able to feel the mystical energy she was about to pass through.
She stepped into the shimmering fog and breathed deeply. Her long blond hair flew out behind her and it was the last thing her grandmother saw as she watched her granddaughter cross into the other world.
Grandma Iris sighed in frustration but she knew as it had been with her, the veil had been too much of a temptation for Kyria. She knew that adventure and discovery awaited her sheltered granddaughter. As it had been with Iris, the veil and it’s magic was in Kyria’s blood. Grandma Iris was the only one besides Kyria who actually could see the veil, she had made herself guardian of the gateway and hoped Kyria would take over for her one day.
But as the last of Kyria’s blond hair slipped through veil and disappeared, Iris couldn’t help being thrilled for her granddaughter. What awaited Kyria would shape and change her. It would motivate and hurt her, it would be an experience far beyond the scope anyone in the village would ever experience.
Iris blew a kiss towards the veil and whispered a blessing for Kyria. The feelings of excitement in Iris were so intense it was as if it were fifty-years-ago and she herself was crossing the veil.
Fifteen-years ago Chloe had visited the County Hotel for the first time in Aisling.
As a young woman, she loved how most of the boutiques and fine dining in the city were here. She adored the opulent movie theater and grand Opera House nearby. The area bustled with tourists and business people alike.
But Chloe’s favorite neighborhood Le Solas Na Greine, had aged. She decided this would be her last stay at the County Hotel. She noticed how much the decor of the hotel was worn. Even the blankets and sheets were threadbare and Chloe was afraid to go outside, except to catch a cab.
Now she visited a new hub of the city, the neighborhood of Lasaim. Yet, she was still upset such a lively and vibrant neighborhood as Le Solas Na Greine, was now the poorest and most frightening place in the city to be. It tainted her fondest memories of vacationing here.
She hoped in the future a new generation of politicians and citizens would revive her neighborhood. After all, didn’t the name of the city Aisling mean dream?
Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this Friday’s music prompt, “That’s The Way It Is” by Celine Dion. I’m doing a form of poetry called Joseph’s Star with 1, 3, 5, 7, 7, 5, 3, 1, syllable count in each star. Please see Shadow Poetry for more information.
Day 25 Prompt: Red “When I was growing up I extremely disliked the color red, not sure if the fact I had red hair had anything to do with it or not. It wasn’t until a few years back that I started to enjoy red and now I love it. I completely embrace red! How about you? Love it? Hate it? Don’t feel anything about it? I have always enjoyed big red barns though, I think it is because my great grandparents lived/owned/worked on their ranch with a big red barn and farmhouse. I loved having family gatherings out there.” ——–
“What do you find tantalizing? What has provoked your interest or desire recently?”
You can desire many things and believe,
Believe you so require something —you need it.
It’s vital to banish the emptiness.
Emptiness, a deserted ghost town dreamed.
Maybe, it wasn’t a dream, walking through streets,
Streets, with the sound of silence deafening,
Deafening as a concert attended —
Attended but, among crowds you’re replete.
Perhaps, for some of us, recognition that —
That, we exist –worthy of conversations.
Conversations where no one talks over us,
Us, people actually listen to and chitchat.
Such a tiny gift to want, people to care,
Caring is scary, means we give back too,
Too, we build relationships and hope,
Hope we’re not hurt, overlooked, now we share.
Plethora of tantalizing dreams,
Dreams we hold close and in the end desire,
Desire people to love and be loved by,
By loving, ensuring no one’s unseen.
Loop Poetry is a poetry form created by Hellon. There are no restrictions on the number of stanzas nor on the syllable count for each line.
In each stanza, the last word of the first line becomes the first word of line two, last word of line 2 becomes the first word of line 3, last word of line 3 becomes the first word of line 4.
This is followed for each stanza. The rhyme scheme is abcb.
1. Stanzas, writers choice on the number, no rhyming, the last word, first word scheme is maintained. 2. One long stanza, no limit on number of lines, no rhyming scheme, the last word, first word scheme is maintained. 3. Couplets mixed with 4 line stanzas, the last word, first word scheme is maintained in the stanzas. It can also be used in the couplets. Rhyme scheme is ab, cc, defg, hh, ii, jklm, nn, oo. Please see Shadow Poetry for further information.