“People disappear when they die. Their voice, their laughter, the warmth of their breath. Their flesh. Eventually their bones. All living memory of them ceases. This is both dreadful and natural. Yet for some there is an exception to this annihilation. For in the books they write they continue to exist. We can rediscover them. Their humor, their tone of voice, their moods. Through the written word they can anger you or make you happy. They can comfort you. They can perplex you. They can alter you. All this, even though they are dead. Like flies in amber, like corpses frozen in the ice, that which according to the laws of nature should pass away is, by the miracle of ink on paper, preserved. It is a kind of magic.” ~ Diane Setterfield
I began this prompt with a quote from The Thirteenth Tale because on the 13th day of our 30/30 in April, I wish to celebrate the number 13 and metaphor (as a poetic device).
- choose 3 to 13 (nonconsecutive) words out of Setterfield’s quote
- use them in a poem that is a deliberate celebration of metaphor
I’m adding two simple definitions of metaphor (stolen from the dictionary *cough*), just so that we can hear the same tune (which, of course, we should dance in our own styles):
1) Metaphor is a figure of speech in which a word or phrase is applied to an object or action to which it is not literally applicable
2) Metaphor is a thing regarded as representative or symbolic of something else, especially something abstract
I also want to share one of my favorite metaphors from Sylvia Plath, “I’ve eaten a bag of green apples”, which appears in her poem (aptly titled), “Metaphor”. Today, I wish to read poems full of metaphors used to tell tales as mind-tickling as Sylvia’s bag of ambiguously green fruit.
Let’s fill the Imaginary Garden with poetry that shows how metaphor can help us birth art that keeps us from disappearing when we die. Please add the direct link to your poem to Mr. Linky. Then go for a swim in other Toads’ poetic ink.
I love this 'found poem' prompt, Magaly! I hope my offering does it proud.
I added another link by mistake. I apologise, Magaly. I'll try to remove it!
The wrong one is removed - only 'The Thirteenth Metaphor' remains. I hope the rest of my Friday 13th goes a little smoother!
Love love love this prompt...oh my....thanks Magaly x
That was great fun! Thank you.
I attempted something. It was tricky trying to get something coherent down before the kids were up for school, but I managed.
Loved the prompt, Magaly!💜 I hope I did it justice. Day 13! Phew!☕
@Kim, I'm so glad you love it. The selfish reader in me is always looking for ways to share bits of the books she loves most. So, knowing you enjoyed the result makes me happy, happy, happy. Can't wait to read your Thirteen!
@Paul, Hooray! x3 (or x13, since today is its day *giggles*)
@Rosemary, I had a blast, too, Rosemary (right after I stopped screaming, "Why did I do this to myself!? Why!" lol).
@Rommy, I bet you more than "managed". I shall be there soon, to prove my superior betting abilities. :-D
@Sanaa, I'm 'so happy you love it. I bet you danced with it famously, and it liked it. Read you soon. ;-)
Life outside writing poetry is currently having the temerity to insist on my attendance. It's making reading and commenting tricky in this busy month. Rest assured I will have some downtime soon and promise to catch up pronto.
A most wonderful prompt, Magaly. Thank you.
Love this prompt, it challenges me for certain, thank you,
My official post for day 13 is a 55 for Hedge, so I'll write for this here and beg pardon. K?
THE METAPHOR THAT ATE CLEVELAND
Every time you use a hackneyed expression,
the devil births a flaming brimstone greeting card.
Hey look, girl, your pen is out of batteries--
don't get hoisted by your own petard.
"What does that even mean?" complains the hideous devil spawn
while hawking cd's of The Many Moods Of Hideous Devil Spawn.
"What are you getting at?
What are you on?"
But back to Cleveland, where low-batt girl resides.
She has baked a dreadful simile pie.
It is hot as fire, cold as ice,
black as coal and blue as the sky.
Enter the Metaphor That Ate Cleveland.
It is perplexed that it does not exist,
Yet must do its duty and eat The Word,
destroying Poetry and leaving us....this.
Oops.. I got carried away and didn't use words from the initial quote.. so removing my link. I'll save this poem for Tuesday.
A challenging prompt indeed! I've added 2 by mistake. Please remove the 'ars poetica ' one. Thank you!
oh how the muse amuses and teases to please, yes, more ma'am, if you'd please - loved it "Dahhhlink, you are so voracious with tha pen"
thanks so much Magaly, for a great prompt -
I once upon a time had the book in my possession, but I'm confessin' I can't remember if I had to donate it before reading .... must wander off to dig through the stacks and see ...
anyhow, enjoyed the challenge - I have attempted to do your bidding -
and will be back fellow prose-poet|ers to catch up reading later, and as weather permits ...
This was great fun. Both the reading and the writing! I linked to Magaly and thereby to here through Facebook and patreon blog
@Fireblossom, Is this your Metaphor for hire? I would like to rent it for a day or three--I promise to pay taxes--I know of an empty skull that needs a huge bite for a hat. I would feed it the thing's heart, too, but I'm quite sure that old rotten chest is hollow.
@Kerry, I shall delight in it.
Thanks sooo much for playing on the 13th, everyone!
Thank you, Magaly. I blame the end of week exhaustion. But I will write a 55 with your words.
Well, overnight the 13 words seem to have boiled over into a lengthy (for me) screed of life death and balloons. And metaphors. Many metaphors, or at least two or twelve. (Laughin like hell at Shay's monster metaphor, too.) Thanks for a great prompt, Magaly.
Magaly, he isn't for rent, but can come over if his mother says it's okay. (When he isn't eating Cleveland, he's a real sweetie.) FYI--he likes his corn flakes set on fire first.
@Kerry and Hedgewitch, Your poems have twisted themselves around my mind's bones (in the best of ways). Thank you.
@Fireblossom, My blowtorch is ready.
Couldn't figure out how to comment on Dimitra's poem
@Margaret, Neither could I. Not on her blog.
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