A leeeetle-bit-of-poetry – Falling and Underworld

Found some more stuff from my creative writing course. A few poems that sort of wrote themselves while I was painfully trying to come up with narrative on the set topics.

Trip to the Underworld

Underbelly of the world -

Yellow-sticky and smelly

Like fish cut open with insides hanging out

We trail the steps of those before us

Leaving steps for those after us

The walk is slow and the sun is high

Steam rises from the earth in coils

The air moves and moves us ahead

Sand swallows everything

The sounds are muted

We are ghosts travelling in circles

Endless circles

And the poetry of death.

Falling 

Fall.

F.A.L.L.

Frustration. Anger. Lie. Love.

Am I a fallen creature for loving and lying?

For being frustrated and angry with myself and the world?

Fall.

F.A.L.L.

Fallen amber leaves lying on the ground,

On the water, on the stones.

Sad season and I am sad. 

Fall.

F.A.L.L.

Future awaits lonely and lost.

Did I curse myself, chose the wrong path

Or is it a force stronger than me?

Fall.

F.A.L.L.

Further ahead the light is lit.

I let myself flow, free and reckless

Empty and ready to take in.

I let myself Fall.

F.A.L.L.

Object from another world

We are shadows of the underworld

Throwing objects from another world

To the brightness of the other world

Separated by the worlds. 

We are whispering the underwords

To the ears of the other worlds

Stealing phrases from another world

All created by the word. 

Words form figures, so in other words

The creation of the other world

And the upper and the underworld

All that started with a word.

And the objects from another world

Are collected in the underworld

So the story of the other worlds

Can be written in the words.