Witch of the Eastern Skies

This is a story about man holding himself captive to the things he can't let go of.

The sky was pitch black with only the moonlight casting it's seductive glow upon man and beast as they danced through the wild of the angry jungle. The tomcat pranced all around his master and enticed him with his golden eyes, if only to reveal to him the true essence of the soft wind's grace as it weaved in and out of his golden locks. Here comes the tigress with her womanly desires as she intertwines her mesh in the fold of the lightening rod. The frequency of these shockwaves could be heard from all around the world, as the radio announcer chats up his usual creed to his masses of followers who pay homage to the diseased minds. Corruption brews inside the tunnel behind the mask of the white falcon who is succombed by the fragile nuance of angelic voices. "Ring in the call of the fountain, my Lord. For your nourished minds shall forever dwell behind the veil of their own insecurities, because they can't let go of who they were. For they need to embrace holistic waters from your crying eyes, and drink of the soot to wash away their desolate roads. With each one there comes a green leaf that holds in its hands the hours of majestic waves of new horizons yet to be taken in this folly of withered souls."

On go the monkeys who swing from branch to branch and tree to tree to find their meal for the neon of the fatherly winds. Shielding towers create thunder across the opaque sky. For the dancers of the wind devour man whole with cyclonic wolves who carve this meaty mass and pass it around to the hungry pack. The mistress of the dawn launches a fire that burns through the wicked, and cremates ceramic minds. For these soldiers of fortune consider their options before they can foster their divine shields. The soldier of the thunder calls out to the she wolf and says, "Behold, Witch of the Eastern Skies, I am the glow of the enchanted arms. It is not foretold to me of the endless dreams that survey the spirits of man. For the sun and the moon now unite against you as they show their bold faces in unison. I shall unite this unholy tarp with my bones, and create a tomb for my body who jumps into the flames with me and eats up your last breath. My frigid soul is no longer dancing in the fluffy, white, snow. I feel the flames' desires. For these are candid showers. Lilacs come into bloom, when I can no longer feel the rain. Elated rhythms pulsate inside my glass mind. I believe in one power. I'm talking about the light that is alive within me. Shepherd, guide me home. I want to find the holistic dome. Crush my crop of corn into your porridge. Save these melodic fields for the one who is in need. I will stop the drums that pound inside your head. Feel your way under the covers of my anguished spirit that melts into the crazed sun. Your are the glowing embers that tantalize thrashing winds. For your fixated gaze is seeking out the Lord's tabernacle choir of angels to carry away his remembrance."

Where the dawn foregoes a new day, the night surrenders to misty eyes enticed by sugar walls that planted their humble seeds inside the womb of Mother Earth; yet the wind dances around naked trees who once fed off of soulful tears. Rewind these seductive visions. For I have many tales to tell of man's jaunted dreams. There once was a frog that leapt from lily pad to lily pad, consuming his treasured meal. The rains blanket his somber body, and flood the earth with his dwelling filled with fear. Seedy moons take on the task of soliciting his overflowing waters to dance to traumatic rhythms that beat down upon marshy doors. Forever becomes a new song when he plays on his piper's pipe with care, but he never dares ice up his notes of sour grapes so fair.

Author's Note

What do you think of the monolauges?

Reviews

[Lyndie Bolt aka JustRac..]

I am utterly confused. After re-reading this 3 times I am still trying to figure out exactly what this "story" is supposed to be about. it appears that the first paragraph is supposed to tell of a man's dreams just prior to his radio alrm clock goes off. Second is dawn's fight with the unwilling but surenduring night unto day. The third is dreams retreat. I am usually pretty good at getting this type of writing and can even compose it (not my vavorite genre tho!), but this seems forced. It would have done better written as a poem (with editing of course).

Sentences taken seperately with no context are 95% melodic in structure, BUT seem to be strung together with out a true purpose. It seems as if you are trying very hard to write in a Hemmingway or F, Scott Fitzgerald-ish manner. Both writers had their moments of rambling wordiness. Unfortunately the thoughts or imagy behind your words has me feeling like I stepped into a schizophrenics mind. You mix tenses which can be done, but in this case is very confusing. Some of the imagry could use reworking to make the ideas less obtuse.

You will probably find me one of your toughest critics. This isn't because I don't like your writing, but because I actually see potential.

Lyn

[J.E. Stroud]

I love it. It's meant to be read with tears in your eyes.
I hope you know what that means- I don't really, but I feel it's the truth.

[Jason Young]

I love how you've seamlessly managed to fuse poetry and prose styles to creative this. The words are filled with imagery and life. I do have a problem with your grammar though...

"The sky was pitch black"

and later

"On go the monkeys".

I mean, either verb tense is acceptable, but try to stick to one, unless you know exactly what you're doing. Mixing and matching usually only leads to confusing your readers, unless you're a master at it.

Personally, I thought it was a little too... Polished. Well-thought out. I mean, there's absolutely nothing wrong with that, but it seems to drag down the stylistics, instead of enhancing. There's almost a surreal and spontaneous quality about what you're describing- let it shine in your writing!

Very good overall. I enjoyed it.

[Wildecat]

I think this is a well written story, totally enjoyed every line, well done.