Welcome to my blog, where I take pleasure in words and pictures, be they my own or those of others. I'm a creative individual, and the crafty side I explore on my 'other blog', Picking Up The Threads, which I hope you'll visit too. I'm sure you understand that I have sole copyright of my original work and any of my contributions, so please ask if you want to use them. A polite request is rarely refused. So, as they used to say on the BBC's 'Listen With Mother' radio programme, many years ago: "Are you sitting comfortably? Then we'll begin."

Sunday, 17 March 2013

The Myth

Faun, Horse and Bird, Picasso 1936


Breathless, clutching at his throat,
Metamorphosis now complete,
Gone the hind legs of the goat,
He stands once more on human feet.

Uncertain, pushing as he stands,
With swollen tongue and aching head,  
He levers up with shaking hands,
And sways and rocks beside the bed.

Awakening, facing this new dawn,
The tortured dreams now fading fast,
Of horse and bird and muscular faun,
All merging into one at last.

Recalling now the night’s excess,
The sweat-stained sheets and fetid stink,
The nightmares and life’s tangled mess
He vowed to give up on the drink.

© Marilyn Brindley

Linking to Tess Kincaid's The Mag, where Tess provides the prompt to get our creative juices flowing.

24 comments:

  1. How clever your rhymes and interpretation of the prompt. Loved it!

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  2. Really a good choice! hate the waking after a night full of dreams like that!

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  3. yow- that was a nightmare- day break brought the truth- excellent!

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  4. Picasso's horse is more effective than a pink elephant. I did not know what to do about the hairless legs. I like your take.

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  5. Loved the way this reached its conclusion! LOL :)

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  6. Fun to read and at last it makes sense to me. A nightmare.

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  7. Oh, dear... you'd think he'd learn. I certainly don't miss those hangovers.

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  8. Oh my, did you ever bring this to a dramatic finish with your close! As I read hungry for the next word in wonder where he shall end.... you leave us in perfect form!

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  9. Read this last night Marilyn - before rushing off to work - and had to come back and say 'Brilliant!'

    Anna :o]

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  10. Let's hope he doesn't try to remedy his Faun, Horse and Bird experience, with a hair of the dog!

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  11. Nimble and inventive; very entertaining...

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  12. nicely done and thanks for sharing your words

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  13. Great imagination..It's a good exchange..drink for myth!

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  14. This really matches the prompt in many ways. I loved it! Sometimes we can have bad and vivid dreams even without too much excess before falling asleep.

    Kathy M.

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  15. Quite the drunken hallucinations I would say! Well penned take on the image.

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  16. I seem to remember that the other morning, I was quite glad to wake up as I was not dreaming particularly pleasant dreams...but nothing as bad as this!

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  17. I liked your whimsical interpretation!
    Here's a rather more sinister take on it for you ;)
    x



    Carried aloft, his valour toasted,
    Talk of the town; he gleefully boasted,
    'That thing will show its face no more!',
    'My mocking shamed it to its core!'

    'You people said "It can't be done!"',
    '"Beware, it is a vengeful one!"',
    'But as it writhed and wailed and cursed',
    'I squeezed its chest until it burst!'

    'And as its dark soul ebbed away',
    'It gasped - last breath - and tried to say',
    'That it would claim a debt from me...'
    'I drove my blade; it could not flee'

    ‘It stared at me with eyes like coal',
    ‘Its terror bored my very soul',
    '"You'll suffer, too!" that harpy bleated',
    'And then was still, expired. Defeated!'

    ---

    With happy heart and boastful grin,
    He left his friends to drink their gin,
    With tales of valour, songs galore,
    He'd shamed the beast! It was no more!

    And now, to bed; snuffed out the flame,
    To dream of honour, love and fame,
    He shut his eyes, lay down his head,
    But instantly was struck by dread,

    A pain welled up, his chest grew tight,
    Overcome with fear and fright,
    Spine twisting sharply, blazed from bed,
    Legs buckling, weighted down like lead,

    From his limbs shot wings and tails
    Fur and feathers, claws and scales,
    And teeth and brambles, hooves and thorns,
    And from his head, two perfect horns

    A beak, a mane, a stallion's head,
    Where once were knees: now eyes instead,
    The harpy's screech rung in his ears,
    And down his cheeks rolled bloodied tears,

    The merriment a distant sound,
    As he lay broken on the ground,
    Under the pain of failed bet,
    Under the crushing weight of regret.

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  18. Goodness you've inherited the gene my boy! It reminded me of that scene in Alien I think it was, with John Hurt.

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  19. The finishing line is a beauty!..................(adored the Madrid snaps btw!)

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  20. Oh Nell, you've done it again - gone and made me want to really learn this rhyme and meter thing! This is a fun and funny take on that poor bloke with the big head! I 'll be smiling about this one for a while!

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  21. Wow this is potent, Nell, i thunk you nailed it. Like watching a werewolf, slowly transform back, this Is sometmes the nature of a big night at the pub!

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  22. I like your take on the prompt. You're quite creative.

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  23. Wonderful - I can relate to this.

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