Bones of a Story

 

I'm taking the first page from my 2018 short horror story, Lost In This Masquerade, and turning it into an erasure poem. 

This story is FREE today (October 8).

https://bit.ly/FTDPIAZ

You can see the process I used to create the poem, then read the unadulterated passage at the end of the post.

skeletons found clinging to each other--

fanciful stories about the macabre pair flew.

some postulated that the boy 

was slain by the girl's jealous lover.

others speculated that the pair had a forbidden love

like Romeo and Juliet.

over time, 

the bodies were repositioned 

clinging to each other 

in an eternal embrace.

“flights of fancy, the lot of it,”

 the decorated seventy-five-year-old archaeologist 

declared quietly.

Preliminary examinations of the skeletons found clinging to each other in the Irish bog were revealed to be an adolescent male and female, both in their late teens. Fanciful stories about the macabre pair flew even from the tongues of seasoned academics.

Some postulated that the boy was slain by the girl’s jealous lover and pushed into the bog. Unable to fathom life without her love, the bereaved miss jumped in and died with him.

Others speculated that the pair had a forbidden love like Romeo and Juliet, drank poison, and clung to each other as they sank into eternity as one.

Still others believed that the girl had died of an opportunistic illness. Driven mad with grief, the boy took her body in his arms and jumped into the bog. Over time, the bodies were repositioned clinging to each other in an eternal embrace.

“Flights of fancy, the lot of it,” the decorated seventy-five-year-old archaeologist, Zaidy Ruggieri, declared quietly, reaching to squeeze the fingers of her friend of fifty-seven years and husband of forty-five.

Preliminary examinations of the skeletons found clinging to each other in the Irish bog were revealed to be an adolescent male and female, both in their late teens. Fanciful stories about the macabre pair flew even from the tongues of seasoned academics.

Some postulated that the boy was slain by the girl’s jealous lover and pushed into the bog. Unable to fathom life without her love, the bereaved miss jumped in and died with him.

Others speculated that the pair had a forbidden love like Romeo and Juliet, drank poison, and clung to each other as they sank into eternity as one.

Still others believed that the girl had died of an opportunistic illness. Driven mad with grief, the boy took her body in his arms and jumped into the bog. Over time, the bodies were repositioned clinging to each other in an eternal embrace.

“Flights of fancy, the lot of it,” the decorated seventy-five-year-old archaeologist, Zaidy Ruggieri, declared quietly, reaching to squeeze the fingers of her friend of fifty-seven years and husband of forty-five.

https://pixabay.com/illustrations/owls-night-moon-full-moon-nocturne-1462732/

https://odysee.com/@BreakbeatMusicMix:c/breakbeat-mix-54:1?r=GTwnGJ4fFBQfzuJgpHVpfKBKaC9b8B16

NaPoWriMo 2015: Day 21: Erasure

Erasure by The Real Cie

Erasure

Move Like Jagger

hand in my heart

Rip it out

spill blood 

lost my head

wanted to put you in my pocket 

wanted to hug you

So I could see the light turn on in your eyes once again

you always looked a little sad

 I could soothe your sorrow

Cuddle away your blues 

Fucking Midnight Confession style thoughts

About a married man

I want to do bad things with you

What the fuck

Is wrong with the Universe?

you don't create something so beautiful

Just to utterly destroy it

my thoughts are

nowhere near close to as wrong

As what's been done to you

Life is pain

Hope is folly

Confession is good for the tabloids

Some things try to be strong

Although they're actually fragile

want to put you in my pocket

And keep you safe 

For Cie

With love from Aurora

Notes:

The term "erasure" reminded me of the picture that Cie created. I thought that I would take something that Cie wrote and try to condense it down to the bare bones.

The original poem, which I absolutely love, can be found here.

The Prompt:

Our prompt for today (optional, as always) is an old favorite – the erasure! This involves taking a pre-existing text and blacking out or erasing words, while leaving the placement of the remaining words intact. I’ve been working on an erasure project that involves an old guide to rose-growing. Here’s an example of an original page, side-by-side with my “erased” page:

One easy way to get started is just to photocopy a page from a book or magazine, and black out words. Or you can copy a text into Microsoft Word, and turn the words you don’t want white. Erasures can feel almost like a game – carving new poems out of old texts like carving statues from blocks of marble — and so they take some of the anxiety out of writing. They can also lead to surprising new ideas, as the words of the original text are given new contexts.

Happy writing!

Fictional Creations

Visit the Artist

This erasure challenge provided by Hannah from Imaginary Garden With Real Toads was...hard! But it made me happy to do it because I talked Team Netherworld's own Rose LeMort to allow me to take a page from her in-progress novel, Fetch, and play Erasure with it. The story is a paranormal romance. 

I hope Rose enjoys what I've done with her page.

Click to enlarge

I got the idea for the graphic from our own Seth. One simply turns the font on the words they don't want to white, then pastes the results into Paint and saves it as a jpeg.

I'm going to provide the poem in a slightly more cohesive form below, then, for a real treat, I will share Rose's original page. She has given m her permission to do so. Personally, I can't wait to see more of this story. Rose has invited the team to brainstorm with her, and you can see the results at the special blog dedicated to this end.

Here it is in a more directly readable format

invited

fictional creations. 

They must be based on something factual. 

I need to find out what that something is

wires crossed

like drivin’ through a thick fog on an unfamiliar road

it wasn’t a stupid move, it was a desperate one

Makes me feel like I’m alive again

I’m tryin’ to make the best of it

I could use a quick little thrill

a little kiss for you

This was hard--really hard! I like the end result, although it's a bit of an odd piece.

Now, here is the real thrill for me, to present you with the original page from Rose's manuscript. Write, Rose, write! We need to see more of these characters--now!

Pepper sat down on the couch and invited Gerry to sit beside her. He nestled against her like a frightened child.

“Put me in your pocket then, Love,” he begged. “Let me stay safe here with you.”

“Gerry, I’d like nothing more. But at this stage, your body is going to keep pulling you back. I need to try to find out just what this entity is. I found the one commonality, but I need something more to act on. Both the Lights of Zetar and the demonic sphere from the Vampirella comic are fictional creations. They must be based on something factual. I need to find out what that something is. Until then, I very much do want you to stay with me as much as you can, my fetching fetch.”

“How’s that then?” Gerry asked, a smile brightening his face as if he were basking in Pepper’s affection for him.

“A fetch is the spirit of a person whose body is either close to death or very compromised, like yours.”

“Huh. Me body could go on kickin’ for quite a while. It’s only got minor sixty-some year old bloke crap wrong with it. It’s me brain that’s a fried mess with all the bleedin’ wires crossed.”

“Same difference. Your spirit can’t operate properly through your body.”

“Hate it when the fuckin’ thing draws me back in, like it did this morning. I was fightin’ me hardest to make that warped gray matter of mine function for me. It was like drivin’ through a thick fog on an unfamiliar road. I so desperately wanted to tell the staff what I’d seen. Feckin’ stupid, really. Should have known they wouldn’t listen to some poor addled blighter.”

“Gerry, it wasn’t a stupid move, it was a desperate one. I wish I knew better what was going on. We’re going to need to work on this together, okay?”

“My pleasure. I love bein’ here with you, Pepper. Makes me feel like I’m alive again. I hate this fucked transitional state, I really do. But I’m tryin’ to make the best of it. I tell meself I’m gonna see me angel, and I’ll be damned if that don’t just make everything all worthwhile. ‘Ey, would you do me a favor?”

“What’s that?”

“I could use a quick little thrill. How about a smooch?”

“I think I could muster one pretty easily.”

“Quickly maybe?”

“Impatient much? All right, my fetching fetch, a little kiss for you.”

A rosy blush spread over Pepper’s cheeks. She could feel the warmth of Gerry’s kiss, could even feel a bit of moisture. The kiss became more passionate. Pepper found herself trembling in Gerry’s arms. When he broke the kiss, he looked directly into her eyes. 

~Morella La Muerte~

With big thanks to 

Rose LeMort

Cross-Posted to:

Fetch

Poetry of the Netherworld