Early morning mutterings

A very old one now for you.
I wrote this when I was turning 14 and went on a creative writing course in Arvon, Devon.
Consequently, I stayed in Ted Hughes and Sylvia Plath's old house where they brought up their children :)
It was a fantastic experience and was where I met Caroline Bird (who has inspired me to write poetry properly ever since)

So, wherever you are Caroline - this is for you.


Early morning mutterings


Have you ever kneeled down
And watched the world grow up?
At dawn I saw a delicate feather
Plucked from the oceans above us
I gazed at it
Pirouetting through the breeze
Prancing like a praying mantis
Twirling harmoniously
It was awake,
Simply dancing
The feather walking
The spiral staircase of the air
It lands.

If you shut your eyes to the city
You'll hear it kiss the ground.

~misshapenskies 

An Avian Apparition

I'm not really sure what I think of this. This is something that I can't really describe, this poem will probably never make any complete sense, and I will never fully understand what happened myself. This is a description, in some form or another of a dream I had last night. I didn't just want to forget it and I had a feeling it would remain in my mind for quite some time. I thought, it's time I wrote more about my dreams, and this one was particularly fanatical. I'm not sure if I like what I've written, because I really want to illustrate what happened properly. But this is a shot, at what was a very peculiar dream. Let me know what you think?

An Avian Apparition

Seven minutes to fall to lucid sleep
To lucid sleep I fell
And in my dreams I became a dancer
A dancer and I shall tell,
Tell of how I fell into the arms
The arms of one who seemed to be
To be something extra-ordinary

Demanding, he bent me backwards
Backwards I should bend
Should fall into his gripping grasp
His gripping grasp, I could not pretend
Pretend to ignore my inward beating
Beating inside and blooming for his presence,
And I could not deny
The desire I felt in this lucid sleep.

The peakers searched myself
Searched my inner self and he seemed to slip
To slip right through me, I couldn't seem to concentrate
To concentrate on his words
His words were blind, instead I was hypnotised
Hypnotised by his percievance
His percievance was distracting
Distracting enough for him to see
and so he layed his hands upon me
Upon me as I began to feel
That the dream was becoming real.
He plucked my fingers and the roaring pain
The roaring pain I felt aflame
Aflame my fingers he ate and thrived
But suddenly I felt alive
He munched and moaned in pleasure he groaned
He groaned and licked
the gore dripping, dripping down his lips
I observed my fetid fingertips
My fingertips which were no longer graceful.

'Be graceful' he uttered and he grabbed my ears
My ears with his avengeful claws
He smothered me with his powerful jaws
His powerful jaws which were also lips
His lips stained with my fingertips
My fingertips attached to my hands
My hands bloodied, in his hands grand
His hands grand which heled mine
Our bodies start to entertwine

Is this even man at all?
Is he swallowing me up, will he haul
Haul me into deepest alleys where only the ravens rest?
The ravens rest in sinister places.
Sinister, I question him,
He answers with lust
He answers with sin
With sin he grips me harder than before
Than before the dance and before the fall
Before the fall I was free
Has this man, this raven, captured me?

Suddenly the face starts to change
To change and starts to re-arrange
To re-arrange into something new
A girl, who stuns me,
Who stuns me too.

Her russet dress flows and wraps around her
Around her I see bells and sounds of laughter
Her eyes, her eyes are pure and white
White, she is full of mystical light
Mystical light which I want to touch
To touch her but it seems too much
She strokes my hair and whispers
Whispers that 'my fingers were delicious'
Delicious fingers, I can see
This girl is neither he or she
He or she, confused as I am
Is a fiend, and so
I ran.


~misshapenskies