Change, or: Estrange

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. 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 /

  2. 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.

      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

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