Wherever Land

If ever you stumble upon a big, big, rock

bound to the eastern prairies

Where lovers of the West ignite

their cold, cold, rusty hearts

There you’ll find my friend, Willow

whose boughs’ dancing attuned

to the singing of the crows-

‘Oer black heralds of the sepia sky

Never fail to fill our ears

with the joys and scams of the Earth

If ever you stumble upon a big, big rock

bound of every nothingness

Where little children like me dare not go

whose boundless questions ignite

their cold, cold, rusty minds

There you’ll find a fiend, Wulthak

whose talons’ scratching attuned

to the prying of the nymphs-

‘Oer golden heralds of the nameless sky

Always fail their ears with feeble joys

a cacophonous rumble of the scams of the Earth

If ever you stumble upon a big, big, rock

bound to the eastern prairies

of every nothingness

Be mindful of your little manners dear Sire

get that pouch of ginger- cinnamon dust handy

For when you stumble upon our HOME…

STAY. For thee, I require.

As to which, your heart may not desire*

Author's Note

This prose was inspired by Neil Gaiman’s poem, “Instructions” in his book, “Fragile Things”.

Cover art done by my brother (He's awesome, I know!).

- Found this piece in my college paper archives.

Reviews

[JohnnyMagrinho]

I like the build up towards the third stanza, going through a friend to a fiend to a piece of advice. It touches upon good versus evil and right versus wrong. The friend should be seen as some part/condition of life that can reward us if we are deserving of it, but at the same time to be wary of the fiend that can lie in exactly the same place. It's nice how you did imply this due to using the same rock in the same place to warn the reader of the fiend as well as the friend.

The "joys and scams of the Earth" become the "cacophonous rumble and scams of the Earth" as a friend becomes a fiend and a harmless crow becomes a tyrannous eagle/taloned bird of prey. The imagery is found through very concise, descriptive language and grabs the readers tongue, pulling it from side to side just to make sure they're paying attention. I like the use of birds to sum up both aspects of the point you are trying to make. It makes me think of the Trevi Fountain in Rome, where Salvi had captured both the danger of water as well as showing how it can be tamed and controlled (through depiction of a crazy horse with a man as well as a calm, relaxed horse walking alongside another man).

The language is very nice and the use of such phrases as "‘Oer black heralds of the sepia sky" is delightfully original and gives us the impression the speaker is some sort of respected sage/wizard type fellow, in the same vein as Gandalf advising one of the Hobbits before going off on another adventure.

I don't know whether it was just me but I got a very strange vibe from the last stanza. It seems to be dubious as to what the speaker is really implying. He's given the reader the advice about friends and foes and how the landscape changes as well as the threats that can be found in the same places, and then seems to be rather vague about how to take it all. It's as though he gives us the chance to avoid being torn apart by a fiend and to build some bridges with a friend before making us just accept he is worthy of no trial. It is accepted he is good and wants his visit. I got the feeling it was like Hansel and Gretel all over again, trying to be tricked by some strange, wicked witch. Maybe the use of ginger pushed me in that direction, but I didn't get a great feeling from the speaker during that last stanza. It seems more sinister than I think he'd like to let on.

"For thee, I require." That's odd. It's disturbing. He's giving us the advice we need about friend and foe, giving us the choice/opportunity to stray from danger and into safety and then gives us no choice about him. It's possessive and very forthright for someone apparently so wise and calm. And then he even realises that by saying "As to which, your heart may not desire." Perhaps this is his way of saying some people are naturally good or evil whereas others choose their own path and he is the judge of it all, ultimately whichever side you choose (making me sound like Star Wars now, sorry lol) you will end up at his house for better or worse.

Ginger cinnamon dust. That's intriguing. I'd like to offer some sort of clever understanding for that but I'm not too sure. Perhaps it's about the spice of life or committing to either path you choose, but I'm probably wrong.

I like the style of the poem and how there is a message hidden within it that was easy enough to extract but it still remains somewhat mysterious.

[Amelie]

I'm impressed with your keen inductions. This piece actually is a condensed flash fic, I decided to keep it as is though but I'm queuing it as a peg for an anthology. This is pretty much a cautionary tale and you captured the soul of the piece, you are at the brink of its crux.
As for the last part, I'm glad that you found it "odd and disturbing", coz I intend to. It became drastically antagonistic, like those you see in slasher flicks, wherein the true killer is actually the wise and tactical nice guy from the other side of the town. Yeah generically a Hansel and Gretel sort of cautionary tale. My country has a rich culture and folk traditions, and I grew up listening to them every night, and I'd like to give credit to my nannies. They have tilled a 4- year old's mind to become a weaver of dreams and fantasies.I know a lot of people don't get why the heck should you be carrying a pouch with ginger- cinnamon dust. The old folks in the valleys would usually advice travelers and settlers to put a small piece of ginger or silver coins in both pockets for protection from sprites, and other unearthly creatures and entities. I also happen to read a few Wiccan literature and cinnamon is usually used in potions and used to drive away retaliatory spirits. and well, to make it sound Western. I didn't note it coz I want to know how it would appeal to the readers. as a writer of fantasy and fiction, I'd like to impress fiction as as a genre that also enable people to think.Thank you so much for the thorough and damn great review, for seeing through the soul of a fiction piece. I hope I've elucidated the rest for you and the others.

[Soul Fire]

Awesome artwork for such a delightful poem.Good work!

[MOON]

Lovely mythical , art work increases the fantasy and the ginger cinnamon nice touch.

[Matt "Mickey" Denney]

I admire your sense of fantasy and the artwork you chose with this piece. Awesome write!

[GunMetal]

Neil Gaiman is truly a master and I can see the inspiration here. I couldn't find "Directions", though there's a poem in that book called "Instructions" which may be the one you're referring to? I think it is because the feel is the same. In "Instructions", Neil seems to be delivering sage wisdom for one's journey through life, in the only way he seems to know how; with fantastic fantasy. You do the same here, but instead of returning to the place you started, you journey to a place to stay, or start from. This is an incredible poem. It is inspirational as it is awe-inspiring.

[Samantha ~virginpoet]

wow this was Aaamazing I loved the imagery and the the story I think you'd be really good at writing story's which is something I think I suck at lol one of my fave things about this poem was the use of language the older words you dont see that much in today's writing

[Shmoke-Sifted Heftlande..]

I think the third stanza was def a work of art
the whole piece was, but that was just the most awesome
piece that jutted into my humble soul
the ending was quite palatable as well
(pun-intentional with the cinnamon and all)
and although it had an effervescence to it
I wouldn't JUST call it cute
I think it had some zing and pizazz

[Eve]

what a truly wonderful write, filled with far off out of this world fantasy, I love this, the art is perfect for the write, grats to you and your brother on this amazing piece.

[Wondering Mind]

this is very nicely composed, it takes a fertile imagination to write good "fiction", or a mind that is in tune with Time's extents.