The Spell [Fanfiction]
Nov. 22nd, 2009 11:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
yuuagoA friend insisted I post this.
This is the prose-poem I wrote a couple of days ago. It's different from the sort of thing I would usually post, but it is closer to the prose-poetry I would usually write.
Title: The Spell
Character: Estonia
Rating: 15+ for violent imagery
Summary: "I sing the song of life". A Singing Revolution. An end to a long struggle. Striving for voice, and for freedom.
Note: This work is meant to be spoken. Unfortunately I cannot record a spoken version. The work was originally written without punctuation and with different spacing. Punctuation and spacing have been changed for this public version of the text in order to make it easier to read.
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Listen-
Energy shooting through, burning through black, a white-hot blue-hot lightning running through cords, everything crackling sparks.
Voice speaking silently, "Listen, listen- "
Listen to what I say, this song that I sing, voiceless wordless going out to you in electricity, numbers making up what you see.
Listen to me and these words that I speak, wind whispering in your ears, hand touching hand, feeling it but seeing nothing. Wind-words piercing deep through, my strength your strength, your strength mine as you cling to me like rooted plants, thirsting. Your energy is a life-blood running through these words, my veins blue under white, running through into deep black goodness, unseen and comforting, the black seed of life at my centre.
Listen-
I sing the song of life, of bodies beaten black and blue, white teeth snapping, white bones cracking, white bodies falling, the good black earth splashed screaming red. I sing of voices strangled and choked, song ripped from lungs, but not enough to quiet you, no, they didn't cut out your tongues.
Defiant, you whispered your words: Power song, strength song, wind song, hope song, love songs, all those words that you sang to me. Root yourself clean now in my good earth, warm black soul untouched under a domed sky, a blue eggshell. Sing of cool skies on winter's days, black pines still and peaceful, murmuring gently.
These songs we sing are our stories, yours and mine, written down over time in blackest black ink on crisp white vellum, my fingertips blue and white, chilled and marked.
Sing our stories, those words made silent by hands on our necks, choking, cutting through the sound of our voices. Sing, never silent. Sing until your throats are hoarse; my sisters, my brothers, my lovers, my friends-
Sing with me the song I am singing.
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This is the prose-poem I wrote a couple of days ago. It's different from the sort of thing I would usually post, but it is closer to the prose-poetry I would usually write.
Title: The Spell
Character: Estonia
Rating: 15+ for violent imagery
Summary: "I sing the song of life". A Singing Revolution. An end to a long struggle. Striving for voice, and for freedom.
Note: This work is meant to be spoken. Unfortunately I cannot record a spoken version. The work was originally written without punctuation and with different spacing. Punctuation and spacing have been changed for this public version of the text in order to make it easier to read.
-------------------------
Listen-
Energy shooting through, burning through black, a white-hot blue-hot lightning running through cords, everything crackling sparks.
Voice speaking silently, "Listen, listen- "
Listen to what I say, this song that I sing, voiceless wordless going out to you in electricity, numbers making up what you see.
Listen to me and these words that I speak, wind whispering in your ears, hand touching hand, feeling it but seeing nothing. Wind-words piercing deep through, my strength your strength, your strength mine as you cling to me like rooted plants, thirsting. Your energy is a life-blood running through these words, my veins blue under white, running through into deep black goodness, unseen and comforting, the black seed of life at my centre.
Listen-
I sing the song of life, of bodies beaten black and blue, white teeth snapping, white bones cracking, white bodies falling, the good black earth splashed screaming red. I sing of voices strangled and choked, song ripped from lungs, but not enough to quiet you, no, they didn't cut out your tongues.
Defiant, you whispered your words: Power song, strength song, wind song, hope song, love songs, all those words that you sang to me. Root yourself clean now in my good earth, warm black soul untouched under a domed sky, a blue eggshell. Sing of cool skies on winter's days, black pines still and peaceful, murmuring gently.
These songs we sing are our stories, yours and mine, written down over time in blackest black ink on crisp white vellum, my fingertips blue and white, chilled and marked.
Sing our stories, those words made silent by hands on our necks, choking, cutting through the sound of our voices. Sing, never silent. Sing until your throats are hoarse; my sisters, my brothers, my lovers, my friends-
Sing with me the song I am singing.
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Yuu. Fic writer & book lover. M/Canada.![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-11-23 05:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-23 05:29 am (UTC)Ach, I wish I could say it for you, as it's so much better that way. But even so. <3
no subject
Date: 2009-11-23 05:31 am (UTC)And it was interesting, I really loved how I got thoughts of Estonia's flag colors through the whole thing.
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Date: 2009-11-23 05:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-23 05:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-23 07:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-23 08:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-23 10:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-23 07:33 pm (UTC)Maybe some day I will be able to put up a spoken version. <3
no subject
Date: 2009-11-23 11:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-23 07:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-23 09:08 pm (UTC)This style of writing is just....ah, I don't know, I just love it.
no subject
Date: 2009-11-24 07:54 am (UTC)I'm glad you like it, as there might be more of it in the future, depending on what sort of ideas I get.
no subject
Date: 2009-12-01 07:36 am (UTC)It's sooo~~ beautiful, you have amazing ability of creating great short stories. ah, I wish that more people could write Estonia so well, it's so hard to find a good fanfiction about him...
no subject
Date: 2009-12-02 06:56 am (UTC)I'm so happy you like it. <3 With experimental pieces like this one I worry so much, ahh, because I know a lot of people don't usually receive this style well.
I wish more people would write Estonia too. It'd be nice to have more to read. I know many people that would write if they could, but they feel they aren't good at it....