As the wind howled,
the glass shattered,
vibrated through the trees
as I fell through.
The rain down poured,
the jagged remains
to the sound of thunder
of the window,
proclaiming the sharp piercing
that jutted out,
flashes of lightning
from the frame.
All was calm,
one by one
in a relative sense.
I felt my skin ribbon,
calmness often spoken of before a storm,
against the cold, sharp prongs
that is actually true during a storm,
as they pierced through me.
In the wilds of the Scottish Borders,
as my body, limp,
only the insane or those who can't afford
in shock from the impact,
to stay safely locked behind closed doors,
passed through.
brave the outside world and all its perils.
-
Gravity,
so, calmness prevailed.
Compromised motoneuron functionality
as the world was barraged
meant I was passively accepting of my fate,
by rain, wind, thunder, and lightning.
Fear gripped me
The sounds of the elemental forces
from the nothingness
and the flickers of the light
below my body
as the electricity came and went
left no room for calmness in Mildred's busy mind.
As I continued to fall,
she felt a strange connection to the elements
through the air,
and was more alive, if you want to call it that,
watching,
during a thunderstorm,
than, at any other time in her unnoteworthy life.
As the window shrunk
she was nothing much to think of
in the distance above me,
with wavy, raven-black velvet tassels of hair
that lay past her shoulders.
This was it, I thought,
and a stare that would send a shiver through a lion.
This is the end.
Aside from her hair that framed her as some kind of mad woman,
as I felt myself relax,
the only colour emitted from her pale face was the dark and piercing brown pools.
give in to my fate.
If eyes be the gateway to the soul,
I woke in a hot sweat,
it doesn't bear thinking what the pathway through them was like.
panting and dazed.
*
Thanks for reading!
Author's Notes: Yeah. I had two challenge pieces, lying going to waste that I didn't really know what to do with...then I thought of a nice bit of chaotic experimentation. One was originally going to be an entry for Kenny Penns's Gothic Stories challenge and one was going to be for the 3:00 AM Challenge. Voilà!
About the Creator
Paul Stewart
Scottish-Italian poet/writer from Glasgow.
Overflowing in English language torture and word abuse.
"Every man has a sane spot somewhere" R.L Stevenson
The Accidental Poet - Poetry Collection is now available!
https://paulspoeticprints.etsy.com
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Comments (6)
Oooo, I like Mildred. Can I be friends with her, she's so intriguing! Loved your poem! 🍩🥐
Interesting concept conflating Mildred and the elemental forces of the storm. The nightmare and the gothic tale are natural bedfellows after all. Really intriguing and well written. You never let any material go to waste, Paul!
Nice work Paul Stewart
I loved how the alternating sentences finished the one 2 lines above. Great work!
There was a brain hook to the chair d though, the press to review in different sequences, to skip, then return and not skip lines.
I think this works well! A few of the gothic genre elements include dreams and discontinuities so this layering of surreal scenes blends effectively! Cool concept of turning the fragments into a poem!!