Yahtzee Fill: Roll #3: Poetry: Sherlock Holmes (ACD): Sign of Life: Rating: Teen

[stonepicnicking_okapi]

Title: Sign of Life
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes (ACD)
Poetic form: Burns stanza (x 6)
Length: 300
No. of lines: 36
Rating: Teen
For: mafief
Also for: 2019 Merry Month of Masturbation - Day 10
Summary: After Afghanistan, but before Holmes, Watson wanders about London at night.
Prompt:



In the cesspool with idlers and loungers he drains.
An eleven and sixpence in hand for his pains.
And there’s no one to hear if he cries or complains
in a room on the Strand.
In the night, to escape all his burdens and banes,
he sets forth on the land.

Through the city he wanders without purpose or aim,
by the shops, ‘cross the parks, along streets he can’t name.
Every night is a novel, each day much the same,
And he watches them all.
There, the reveler, the deviler, and crown prince of shame
amidst peddler and stall.

As he surveys the river, he grieves he can’t paint.
Then he’s lost ‘round the docks with its brine and its taint.
There he spies a young sailor, feels something quite faint
in his moribund frame.
But the seaman’s a ghost: there he is, there he ain’t.
as the fog lays its claim.

The next night it is Limehouse. He breathes its perfumes
of the spices in rices and vices in tombs,
navigating by lanterns which hang like the plumes
in an opium den.
There’s a lad, he’s quite something, the pose he assumes
makes a corpse think of sin.

He returns to his rooms more alive than fatigued
and throws off the mantle of dreamer bereaved.
No mistake, there’s an ache, an old friend, he’s intrigued,
so he spits on his palm.
And he thinks of the lad and the sailor un-leagued
and applies the wet balm.

As he strokes, he remembers what once made him tick,
resurrected by lust, a young dog, an old trick.
He imagines it all, from the tight to the slick,
free from blot, free from strife.
And he thinks as he watches the lurch of his prick,
‘Not a bad sign of life.’

Comments

[smallhobbit]

I like your summary of London at night - plenty for Watson to see.

[stonepicnicking_okapi]

Even in a state of convalescence, I don't think he would stay in a hotel room and mope, especially at night.

Thank you. For some reason, this came surprisingly easy yesterday.

[debriswoman]

Very atmospheric:-)
(!!!)

[stonepicnicking_okapi]

Thank you for commenting. This was one of the easiest poems of late I've written. I tried the Burns stanza with anapest feet and I really, really liked it. I thought it sort of mimicked Watson's gait as he rambled. duh duh DUH duh duh DUH. I wrote this in a day (playing toys with Minisculus) that's how easy it came.

[mafief]

I’m on my fourth or fifth read-through with lots of contemplation (this is just how me and poetry go), and I think I get it. I feel Watson wandering around London (maybe a little lost) taking in the sights and having his curiosity, uh, peaked. It flows very nicely. (lol, I feel so ineloquent right now.)

I think you did such a good job with the prompt. That sort of feeling you were going for was exactly what I was hoping you’d do. Yup, bravo :)

[stonepicnicking_okapi]

Hurrah! I am glad you liked it and thought it did service to the prompt! I used a new to me form (the Burns stanza) and a new foot (anapest, duh duh DUH) and thought they worked well.

[mafief]

Agreed, it worked rather nicely.
I'm not entirely sure what a foot is??? And am fairly sure I've never read a Burns stanza before, so I'm excited that this is my first.

[ilthit]

That was beautiful! I mean, sordid, but awesome!

[stonepicnicking_okapi]

Ha! Thank you. I write a lot of 'sordid' but I'm glad you found it awesome, too!

[ilthit]

I used to write a lot more sordid stuff than I do now, I don't know why. Maybe it comes in waves. I blush to read it again sometimes but at the same time I know if it's good sordid, then there's nothing to be ashamed of.

[stonepicnicking_okapi]

Well, this online space is the only space where I feel safe and free to explore and express myself sexually. So it's not as important to me that it's 'good' as that it's mine and no one [as yet!] has seen fit to take it away from me. I mean, I've written 8k about a woman masturbating with a dildo full of her ex-lover's cremains. So, probably not 'good.' :) But in RL I'm invisible and that's ok.

I definitely agree that it comes in waves. Even in a given month, there are times when I want to write porn and times when I can't bring myself to. And I don't force it. I've faked plenty of orgasms in real life. No need to do it here.

[ilthit]

Fandom does give us a lot of freedom that way. Sometimes I just second guess myself to death. Creativity has difficulty flowing in the presence of shame and Fandom is beautifully unashamed. <3 And it lets you disconnect from it.

[scfrankles]

I really like:

There he spies a young sailor, feels something quite faint/ in his moribund frame./ But the seaman’s a ghost: there he is, there he ain’t./ as the fog lays its claim.

"there he is, there he ain’t" is just so witty ^__^

[stonepicnicking_okapi]

I liked that rhyme especially.