Arts

Creative Corner- ‘Fantasy’ Showcase

A collection of poetry on the theme of 'Fantasy'

In this month’s poetry showcase we focused on the theme ‘Fantasy’- be it a secret crush in a coffee shop line or a D&D adventure!

The Power of Fantasy

We sit together around our fading campfire,

sharing in the adventures of heroes we will never get to see;

heroes we will never truly get to be.

 

We share in heartbreak, strife, and misery,

but together also celebrate victories

great and small,

be it saving a single child, or else an entire civilisation from destruction,

the joy it brings binds us all.

We slay great beasts, we laugh, we smile,

we take breaks from our conquests, drink together – if only for a short while

because soon enough another threat presents itself,

another dragon must be slain,

another town saved,

and it is we who will do this – we who will share in this adventure,

this success, or perhaps failure, together.

 

We sit around the fading campfire –

A robotic beep, a notification

‘your battery is running low’.

The fading firelight reverts to its true form –

the fading brightness of my laptop screen, as its battery slowly dies

 

The faces of the adventurers beside me disappear,

once again becoming only voices projected into my ears,

assisted not through close proximity,

but headphones which are far too big for me.

 

Our adventures remain only fiction,

A shared dream, – a fantasy

 

but, if truth be told, when life can be so full of stress,

of misery,

where dragons come in the shape of deadlines,

and victory comes in the form of but a number – a 70,

when a break is wandering down to mooch, and sharing not ‘ale’ but a Kopparberg,

or three…

 

then I ask you – what is so wrong in engaging with a fantasy?

For truly, such fantasies are the greatest escape,

from life’s cruel miseries.

 

Georgia Butcher

 

The Green Lady

You wouldn’t notice her at first

Clutching the blackened corners of the room

Skulking and groping her way

Along the mildewed walls and sticky tables

Her presence growing with each rolling second

Amongst the heaving crowd her emerald eyes

Fix dead upon your blood-shot whites

Her advance spurring the dread that

Tiptoes down your spine as the room

Fades into a dark and dirty distance

A muted little grot in the corner of

Existence as all that remains is the Lady

Striding forth in acid conviction

Each step pounding across your skull

Then the fear and the shock explode

Into brute green flames that scold

Every inch of your doubled form

Roaring along your veins until the second

Your heart can thump no louder

The burning fades its force all spent

The Green Lady lapses into murky air

And as you set down the absinthe glass

Life returns to the bar.

 

Sam Young

 

Spirits

The poltergeist is here again tonight,

back in this room with me

and though it isn’t of another realm

it’s not of ours either.

It’s locked within my head

playing the lines of a love story

that I refuse to know.

It presses on me every night

and keeps the surrender of sleep away.

A demon in my skull

that reminds me to fear the past.

That keeps the gut-turning horrors

real

and alive.

No hot holy water of my eyes

exorcises her away

and insecurity manifests

a constant evening companion.

 

Holly Wilson

 

Dear coffee aficionado

Dear coffee aficionado,

we’ve queued together a couple times, I’m the one

with the glasses who once said hi,

but can never catch your name when you give it to the barista.

Still, who needs names?

Our mutual need for caffeine is enough

to fuel my fatal flaw as a hopeless romantic:

I can’t help but believe

in chance, constructing these coffee break coincidences into meant to be moments,

you glanced back and our eyes meet so maybe-

I just fell in love with fiction, lost my head in sugared day dreams of a date after asking you out,

only my tongue got tied up,

and I watch you walk away

with your cup,

free hand entwined in theirs, reality

bitter as too-strong coffee.

 

Lauren Winson

 

Will-o’-the-wisp

I follow the string of lanterns

In the late dusk eve

My memory dapples

With illusions of you

I chase those shadows

With my eyes

Lit by the pearlescent teardrops

Of the crescent moon

Hung against

The midnight palette of the sky

I trip and dance

Falling prey

To the fey

Silhouetted in a daydream

Romance heady in the air

Choosing to fall into the catacombs

Of desire

Coaxed by the floating fairy lights

For a glimmer of the ethereal.

 

Esther Kearney

To get your work featured, send your submissions to entertainment@impactnottingham.com, or message Esther Kearney via Facebook.

Featured image courtesy of Georgia Butcher.

Other images courtesy of youthfulc ,Sara Hester, Art Gallery ErgsArt – by ErgSap, Bartosz Mogie?ka and Richard Pearson via Flickr.

Image use licence here.

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