Hello readers, faithful followers and minions!
Next up is my very first submission for my Intro to Creative Writing Class. Enjoy!
Submitted Version
Firelight
You sit in the living room, bent over your books
Fingers meshed in your ruffled, too-long hair.
The light of a fire coaxed from small twists
Of newspaper, dead leaves, twigs, and pinecones
Stolen away from distant worlds
Of woods and rock and earth and water,
Creeks flowing to rivers and thus to oceans
Far from home, that fire blazes
In an old soup pot set on a trivet
To keep its heat from the scarred, stained carpet.
Lightning blasts and thunder crashes
Outside our humble window.
You look up at me and smile.
“Wakeful again?”
Thunder booms. I squeak.
“Come here.”
You wrap the faded afghan around my shoulders,
We two pilgrims in a world unknown.
Your pale wings protect me
Cast around me to keep a world at bay for now,
Safe.
Okay, so that was the final version. But the original poem had more lines and I just had to choose the best section. Here’s the full poem! Be forewarned, it’s much longer.
Pale wings are spread above where I sleep
As if I don’t remember at any other time
Except when I dream, but
I do.
It would be so easy to forget.
I still remember.
It hurts and yet comforts me.
A memory:
You sit in the living room, bent over your books
Fingers meshed in your ruffled, too-long hair.
The light of a fire coaxed from small twists
Of newspaper, dead leaves, twigs, and pinecones
Stolen away from distant worlds
Of woods and rock and earth and water,
Creeks flowing to rivers and thus to oceans
Far from home, that fire blazes
In an old soup pot set on a trivet
To keep its heat from the scarred, stained carpet.
Lightning blasts and thunder crashes
Outside our humble window.
You look up at me and smile.
“Wakeful again?”
Thunder booms. I squeak.
“Come here.”
You wrap the faded afghan around my shoulders,
We two pilgrims in a world unknown.
Your pale wings protect me
Cast around me to keep a world at bay for now,
Safe.
Now, I am cold.
Rain beats the window
Alone.
Are you living or do you lie dead
Alone
Beneath the ground or on your battlefield
Unburied
Among the many others faceless, slain?
Or are you dying, even?
Would I go to you, if I could?
I don’t know.
Your elfin face did not change.
You are the one who never grew up.
You are so far from me.
You knew the secret of flight
And still hover over me
Like some shadow out of the past.
You still are not there, but
I am enshrouded in your pale shelter of wings.
Okay, explanation time!
I was thinking of Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin/Vader when I wrote this. I’ve always been curious about how Vader thought about Obi-Wan, if ever he thought about Obi-Wan at all, and what Obi-Wan and Anakin’s earliest days were like. That’s the inspiration that led to this poem. Hopefully you all enjoyed it! Thanks for reading, and God Bless!
Um… you should probably know… I spotted Obi-Wan midway through the second line. That was awepic – okay, either it was an incredibly perfect description where you captured the absolute essence of a character in just two lines (TWO LINES, DEAR FORCE!) or I’m just programmed to assume Kenobi until proven otherwise on this blog. (I’mma go with the former…)
I love the fire in a pot. It’s just so… so.
And I’m perversely ecstatic that Anakin is still… “Cold.” And that it’s Vader… and he doesn’t know Obi-Wan’s still alive…
Oh, you and your deep feels poetry are going to be the death of me. Good way to go.
I’m glad you liked it! and yeah, I was kind of going for Obi-Wan’s protective, gentle side… 😉
It was kind of cute, actually… no, *don’t* tell him I said that.
Why not? He’s being insufferable at the moment.
NO HE ISN – just a moment. Bi-An, sweetheart, are you being insufferable? Oh, only to Erin; I see. Carry on, it makes her keep writing until you aren’t.
I had a bad finals-week anxiety dream last night. Never mind that finals week is long since over.
Ah. That… actually makes a lot of sense.
It was horrible! …and it turns out partly true. We handed in the paper copy of our final, but we forgot about the electronic version. So now we have to send it to the third party we really made it for.
Ah. Yes. Two hand-in methods make things so confusing. At my college they’re generally quite chill, and you can hand in the electronic at the *exact instant* it is due and the paper one the next day and no late points.
Did you get your paper in on time?
I did indeed! 😀
Beautiful poetry! It paints such a mysterious, winsome picture in my mind. Well done!
I’m glad you liked it! 😀
A passion fruit latte? Weird… XD
That bit about the passion fruit was meant for a different post, sorry! 😛
That’s okay 😉