Change, or: Estrange

Posted on by ben Alexander 
His doubts pained her 
profoundly / Why wouldn't he
believe in her words? Quarantined 
alone at home, with only her enchanting
descriptions of the world outside 
to raise his spirts, but still 
he wouldn't / Instead 
he compelled her,
insisting she
repeat after 
him, 
repeat his darkest 
thoughts
repeat sorrows and 
banalities / 
Why are you doing this? She
cried / Can you really no longer perceive 
beauty? She whimpered / Sprites, she 
promised him - 
are dancing 
with fallen leaves in the wind, 
and pixies -
are prancing 
daintily across the puddles / But 
he would 
have none of it / 
Nonsense, 
he said / Now, 
read: 
[She shuddered but attempted to oblige 
him] All is cold, all is dead, and the world 
has become sheer hell frozen, unfurled,
where fantasies, so naïve, once had twirled,
there is now / 
Her graceful body 
heaved 
as she 
retched 
his 
horrid words out / 
No! No! 
No! I won't 
do this / What do 
you mean you 
won't? 
I mean: I 
won't 
be your poem anymore!

The above poem is my take on d’Verse’s ‘Personification & Imagery’ prompt.

The Writing Challenge: Write a poem utilizing either Personification (giving human characteristics to objects, animals, or ideas) or Imagery (appealing to the senses). If you want to combine these poetic devices in one poem, it’s also okay.

68 thoughts on “Change, or: Estrange”

      1. You’re welcome, David! Yes, it was moving. More in an ‘I no longer have an appetite for a few hours’ kind of way, but yes.
        Chodesh Tov,
        -Shira

  4. So cleverly done, David. To feel ones own verse resist, reluctant to simply be whatever repetitive expression he has chosen. Almost as if a writer’s greatest ally is his own verse, refusing to accept banality. Forcing the writer to strive for more. To grow beyond settled bounds.

  11. Smart Sprite! Time to listen to her and find that positive voice! Well done David.
    I liked this line…

    Her graceful body
    heaved
    as she
    retched
    his
    horrid words out /

  15. I like your imaginative use of the prompt here, embodying a poetic struggle between hope and despair. I’m pleased hope refuses to play ball at the end!

  17. lol I too wondered where this mythical tale was going so the twist was surprising!

    I thoroughly enjoyed the encounter with fae, these lines drew me …
    “Sprites, she
    promised him –
    are dancing
    with fallen leaves in the wind,
    and pixies –
    are prancing
    daintily across the puddles”

    if we can’t believe in magic and miracles we are only just surviving … we thrive by using our imaginations to create poetry! Stunner

  19. Our poems bear the burdens of our depressions…but thankfully they also have their own ways to kick us back to a different state. I’m smiling. (K)

  24. This has a great twist in the end. I so enjoyed the build up until the reveal, which we can all relate to.

    Thanks for joining in.

  26. Woah…. this is utterly amazing! I feel like my own poems have been experiencing something similar recently… this is very very cool. Great storytelling!

      1. Ha! Well I’m honestly not trying to get anywhere with it… unless it’s in your good graces. ;)) Seriously though… I meant those words. Always do. My communication’s not always great… but I try. Your likes sometimes bring me here, and I’m always interested… and usually surprised. :))

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