Gatsby's Fall From Grace

A light of hope burned within Gatsby's heart, a flickering green light that ignited his extravagant and love fueled dreams. It is true that this very green light hovered over his blurred horizon, danced along a hazy border between sky high fantasies and deep sea deaths. That light soon became a beacon for his hopes, but its bright light cast an envious shadow over Gatsby's soul, over the years slowly manipulating his hopeful smile into an expression of desperate longing.

That night their bodies danced with ultimate pari passu, moving as one amongst the crowds of people who's bodies rustled in jeweled sweet wrapper habiliments. The glitz of the party faded slowly faded into the distance and dissipated into the soft brown eyes of Daisy Buchanan. Her sweet honey suckle hair swam through his mind like finger waves, her finger tips dripped in gold pawing gently at his back, her eyes begging him for reassurance.

Two short experimental pieces exploring the characters and themes associated with F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby. 

Days Mourning Gown

That far left side, the abandoned road, empty it lies, as passers-by pull in from time to time.  The land beside it filled with new born, a gift, as death leaves the land to mourn the harsh months of past, and blesses the soil with fragile youth not yet tainted by the months to come. A casket heart on a silver chain encloses a photograph, the travelers leave their mark on it, with tire marks and dirt. A memory to keep with the heart; worn into the road. The night begins to dress itself in days mourning gown as it contemplates the day gone by and ponders what will come of the next year.

A short story in which I was asked to include a randomly chosen object, setting, season and time of day without specifically naming them. I was given the setting: hard-shoulder of the motorway, time of day: evening, object: locket and season: spring. I hope I was able to actively conveyed these themes through this short prose without leaving my own writing style behind.

Fragile Touches

Fragile touches

Grazing over sun-kissed skin

Lips stumbling over

Hushed lullabies and simple songs

Silent whispers pass

From one mouth to another

Exchanging stories from

Days come and gone

Fragile

I feel the warmth

A fresh vulnerability

Untainted

Unspoken 

I have been so scared to post this poem, I finished it weeks ago after over a month of worrying about it. It's not my best poem by far, but it is one that I am proud of. 

Also just a note to say thank you to all of my readers, who continue to read my posts, I sincerely appreciate all of your support.

Floral Decay

A room full of floral decay
That bittersweet smell of mixed perfumes
Lingers, and the waft of stale summer air
Waltzes down the aisle
That awkward time stuck between
A blistering summers day
And the ice frosted night
A note to congratulate the bride
And the groom
That couple that wont even last the night
Divorces are expensive I think
As the pen hits the paper

As part of a task I was given a random: object, setting and time of day. I got: a wedding in a church, a letter and the afternoon. I really don't know how this managed to take such a depressing (yet comical) turn as I was planning on something rather romantic.

Soldiers Of The Sea

Laughter Fragile as a dream
Its temporary song be heard
As passers-by sing with the wind
The sorrow of the bird

Games may trace this summers edge
Be tainted by the fall
While the sea birds sing their waltzing song
And dance upon the wall

For how the sand turns with the tide
Forgotten by the seas
Rolling o're lambent waves
Sorrowful yet at ease

These tides may pull our heart strings tight
And tease at bibelot dreams
But in my soul our dream still sings
For your love gave me wings

Upon the shore his heart did lie
And buried on the land
Still to this day his song sings true
The melody of the sand

Inspired by the song Watercolours by English folk band Salt Water Thief  specifically the chorus "Because i'm made of watercoulors and I will die, it a brush in my hand you in my mind" 
the poem (to me) explores the life of a sailor who leaves his true love on the shore while he goes out to sea, she keeps up her hopes that he will return and they will live their dreams together, but sadly the story takes a turn for the worst and his life is taken by the sea leaving his childhood sweetheart alone. 
I wanted to expore rhyming patturns in this poem and although I didn't stick to a strict pattern, I enjoyed the challenge of the rhyme. 

Work In Progress Poem

Tiptoe

Tiptoe

Wandering through the knee high leaves

Her collar lined with crystal due

Her bones wrapped in white torn mistrusting lace

Hem frayed, heart silenced

The quite screams of forgotten dreams

In the frost her body quivers

As she lay barren

Faced down in snow

Allowing fingertips of ice to trace her spine

And tear at her innocence

Her pale heart in silent yearning

For a year past and forgotten

A tortured soul, bound by her fear

Bound by rope

And memory

Her deepest demons

Tearing themselves from her inside out
As tunnel eyed passers-by turn their heads astray
Shuffling feet to mask the sound

A frostbitten beauty 
Worn over time
Who dared bare her soul
For there is nothing more lonely than a girl
Who's soul wanders amongst the hearts of men

I wrote this piece a few weeks back after looking through the incredible work of Laura Makabresku a photographer and writer from Poland. Her work shows influences from farytales and carries a constant whimsical theme, with influences from gothic folk law. One of her recent series of photographs follows the tale of a young girl who died in an unfortunate suicide. A group of men, who were deemed to be insane, would perform rituals to tempt back her soul, where they would then bind her body with rope so she took human form, and would then abuse her. 
I am normally unable to write poetry without planning, but her photographs have proved great for inspiration and I was able to simply put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard as the case may be) and write. 
Please go and take a look at the incredible woman who inspired this piece Laura Makabresku