Multifandom Poetry Fest 2022

[minutia_r]

Welcome to the sixth annual Multifandom Poetry Fest, a prompt fest for poetry for all fandoms! Have fun, and feel free to promote it on your journal/community/tumblr/discord server/whatever if you want. You can copy the code in this box wherever HTML applies:

<a href="https://minutia-r.dreamwidth.org/70957.html" target="_blank"><img src="https://i.imgur.com/MH9Fb9h.png" /></a>

Rules

1) Leave a prompt in the form of fandom, characters or relationships, prompt. If you don’t want to specify the fandom or characters, you can say "any." One prompt per comment. Leave as many prompts as you like.

2) Reply to other people’s prompts with poems. The poems can be any length or form, or no form. Quality isn’t important--the point is to have fun, not to produce deathless works of art. (Any deathless works of art produced are just a bonus.)

FAQ

Q: I want to write a sonnet/haiku/villanelle/limerick, but I’m not sure how it goes.

A: You can find a good list of poetic forms and their structures here.

Q: Can I write fills without leaving any prompts, or leave prompts without writing any fills?

A: Go ahead!

Q: I want to fill a prompt, but someone else has already filled it.

A: That’s okay, prompts can be filled multiple times.

Q: I want to write explicit erotica, or a poem with potentially disturbing themes, or a poem that spoils recent installments of canon (or make a prompt for the same). Is that okay, and what sort of content do I need to warn for?

A: Sure, that's fine. Warnings are considerate and appreciated, but they're also up to the discretion of the individual poster. Consider this a warnings-optional space and read at your own risk accordingly.

Q: Are the fills I write considered to be gifts to the prompter?

A: Only if you and the prompter want them to be! Otherwise feel free to treat the prompt simply as inspiration.

Q: Can I prompt/write original works?

A: Original works are a fandom! If you want, you can specify genre and character types while prompting, like so: original fantasy setting, female elf/female orc, next time I won't miss.

Q: I want to participate, but I don't have a dreamwidth account/I'm shy.

A: That's okay--anonymous posting is on.

Q: How long is the fest going to be running for?

A: Currently, I don't have any plans to close this post to comments--I figure we'll keep going until everyone gets bored and wanders off. I reserve the right to change my mind, though.

Q: Is there a collection on AO3 where I can post my poems?

A: Right here.

Q: I want to participate, but I suck at writing poetry.

A: Aww, you’re probably not as bad as you think. But even if you are, it really doesn’t matter--like I said, the main point is to have fun.

Comments

[minutia_r]

EXU: Calamity, Laerryn / or & Patia, girlboss hours

[minutia_r]

Girl Genius, Gil/Tarvek, sharp enough to cut yourself

[minutia_r]

The Untamed, Wen Qing, do no harm

[The Untamed] untitled sedoka

[alexseanchai]

Not one death has come
by her hand; not one person
injured or weakened or ill.

Many deaths, perhaps,
have followed from her failure
to use medicines as poisons.

[alexseanchai]

any fandom, any / relationship, ocean

[angstythumbs]

A forbidden shore /
Secrets of the ocean deep /
Waves a taunting lure /

[alexseanchai]

any fandom, any / relationship, moon

Critical Role, Orym/Will

[minutia_r]

You were Catha: bright and constant.
Where will I go
Ejected from your orbit?
Ruidus—
Moon of ill omen—
Is a wanderer.

[alexseanchai]

any fandom, any relationship, blossoming

[alexseanchai]

any fandom, any characters, conspiring

(fun fact: that's the same '-spir-' as in aspire, inspire, expire, and respire—that last being closest to the meaning of the root Latin verb—and 'con-' meaning 'with' means the etymology of 'conspire' is 'breathe with')

Doctor Who (1963), Third Doctor/Delgado!Master

[theoremproved]

I hope I didn’t go off the rails of the prompt too much…
Your fun fact - the combination of “conspire”=”scheme” and “conspire”=”breathe (together) with someone” - made me think of them.
(for canon context – the two characters in question are centuries-old alien friends-turned-frenemies)

Again, you scheme, you plan, and you conspire
With yet another cunning alien race,
Led by an all-encompassing desire
To conquer – so you say – all time and space.

And yet you always fail. And yet again
You always turn to me when you’re betrayed,
As if an armistice with me would then
Bring you a satisfaction just as great

Or even greater than a victory –
For if you win, then this would put an end
To our dear old fight. But as for me,
I think I have a question, my dear friend.

Why do you, if you want the Universe,
Take Earth – my favourite prison – always first?
Think: do you want the Universe at all,
Or do you see, indeed, a closer goal?

Shadow & Bone

[angstythumbs]

Shadow & Bone, Darkling/Alina (or Kirigan/Alina), Poem using some Old Ravkan words sprinkled in

Ie linguistic enthusiasts, have at it! ❤️

Shadow & Bone

[angstythumbs]

S&B,

Multiple Characters including Alina & Kirigan,

Taking inspiration from the above main post's photograph... when [some event happens that cancels all classes for the day], Alina experiences a long-held tradition at the Little Palace: a spontaneous poetry-off (ie poetry competition), in teams by Order. Usually, the General watched and determined the winner. But this year, with Alina here and with the question looming of which team Alina would join, he decides she's on his team, creating a fourth team, and he participates. With morebthan half a milennia of experience and education in his repertoire, stunning, witty, and brilliant limericks ensue.

[shadaras]

Star Wars (Any), Any Character/Relationship, "Luminous Beings"

[minutia_r]

Have a blues sonnet for Finn circa The Force Awakens!

The galaxy is vast and dark and cold
Between the stars, it’s all just dark and cold
No warmth, no life, got nothing there to hold

Space all around, you keep your buddies near
Aboard a ship, there’s always someone near
A living, breathing shield against fear

They made us killers. That's not what I am
I had to leave to find out what I am
But ever since I went out on the lam—

Since I left, I feel so all alone
Sweet Force, I always hate to be alone
Sometimes it makes me wish I could go home

I dream of them, in armor shining white
My buddies, a stormtrooper's only light

[shadaras]

LotR, any, Stargazing

Fill: Elrond

[(Anonymous)]

Memory grows thin in winter

Your house is a house of travelers
A house of many rooms and many windows; climb the stair
Throw open the shutters to the cold
Song fades below
Fires burn slow
The time for poetry is long past over
Look out, past frost-stark branches
Past river deep, past sheltered dale
The night is waiting
And there, in eastern sky, a rising star

Bright, bright, and distant
Free from Shadow’s hand
Slow only when observed from where you are

He never tarried, Bilbo’s mariner
Yours is a house of travelers

.

They will venture soon from out your door
They will carry hope with them, and doom
A sword once-broken, weapons from a tomb
And the spring-born love of Evenstar
Grown strong in summer
They will go to war

And you, Half-elven
You will watch them go

.

The flame of Elendil climbs the dome of the sky
Small only from the ground
Untouchable only from far away
The cold stings
The Shadow gathers
The trees are bare
And you are far away, and old
Who once was young
Undying, who once was mortal
Your hands on the windowsill folded
Your face upturned towards your star

Should it sweep down
Should the final battle call it home
Should it arc swift over fields you know
You would see what your traveler’s heart has never forgotten:
Not light, but white prow, wave-splitting
And silver sails – yes, you know their shape still
And the shape of a seabird’s wings in western sky
There has always been a highest window to watch from
And winter is the season of remembrance

.

These things call: a jewel, a king’s hand
A distant land
The sky, the sea

The straightest road was never home to thee

[shadaras]

Scum Villain, Liu Qingge, cultivation (in any sense of the word)

[chibifukurou]

Breath, power spins beneath your breast
Breath, power flows to you fingers
Breath, your sword begins to sing death
Breath, your body flooded with pain
Breath, the ground is cool beneath you
She Qingqiu please, do not die again
Breath, get up, fight back, fall again

[shadaras]

MDZS/The Untamed, any, Proxy

[ilthit]

Scum Villain's Self-Saving System, Tianlang-jun, Tianlang-jun's attempt at romantic poetry in the human world style

[angstythumbs]

Grishaverse, Ilya Morozova, "Merzost"

The Bonesmith to his daughter, upon his final Making (A Terzanelle)

[callirhoe]

This making at the center of the world
Is wrought of pain, of love and blood and bone:
I've made of you the heartbeat of the world.

What I can give to you is mine alone:
My gift, my curse, my love, and all my power
Belongs to you, child of my blood and bone.

All that I am, I am. This fateful hour
Lays bare all that is mine to leave behind:
This curse, this gift, this final fearful power.

Let bone unbreak, let flesh and spirit bind—
(I don't regret the choices that I've made.
I don't regret the life I've left behind.)

Let life return, let Death's cold hand be stayed—
(You're part of me and I am part of you:
How can I rue the choices I have made?)

Whatever comes, child, know these words are true:
Your making is the center of my world.
It's part of me. Now I am part of you.
Your heartbeat is the heartbeat of my world.

[alexseanchai]

any fandom, any & relationship, taking care

The invisible hand (Moon Knight TV, Jake Lockley)

[callirhoe]

The neighbors might see you if you go in through the door.
Slide through the window instead. Leave the boots below the ledge:
you'd just have to clean your footprints off the floor.

Return Marc's passport to the hole in the wall.
Count the cash. Close enough. He'll never miss the rest.
Check his phone for messages. Don't answer Layla's call.

Feed Steven's goddamn fish. Look it in the eye.
At least the thing had the decency to stay alive this time.

Return the knives you borrowed two days ago from the drawer.
One to cut an overripe tomato, and the other—
Disinfect them both. Just to be sure.

Open the fridge door. Close it. Curse Steven's name.
Throw out the moldy bread, the rotting kale he never touched.
Tell yourself you'll have to shop and cook again next time.

In case hell freezes over, make a list. Use Steven's hopeful scrawl.
Keep it simple: bread, margarine, jam, tea.
Spaghetti, pepper, tomato, onion, tofu crumble.
Steven will think he wrote it. Marc won't notice at all.

Check the time: almost dawn. Do what there's time to do.
Take out the trash. Wipe the kitchen down.
Wash the dried-hard dishes they left piled in the sink—
Hijo, were they raised by wolves, those two?

(You know they were.
You know that wolf.
You know those scars.)

Re-tape the cracks around the door. Smooth it all down tight.
Lock every lock in order. Steven checks, so do it right.

Close the blinds. Block out the dawn.
Steven might actually get some sleep if the light stays off his face.
Bundle your blood-stained gear away. Put his pajamas on.

Shave. Brush the teeth. Wash the face. Don't miss the rust-red streak behind the ear.
Marc's getting sloppy. It was there before you got here.

Climb into bed. Sweep your footprints from the sand.
Close the cuff around the ankle. Lie down. Shut the eyes.
Fall backward into darkness. Give up. Let Steven in.

Next time you're here, do it all again.

[alexseanchai]

any fandom, any character, rooted

[kiraly]

The Murderbot Diaries, any character, poetry allowed/not allowed in the Corporation Rim

[kiraly]

The Queen's Thief, any character(s), moon promises

[kiraly]

The Queen's Thief, Attolian royal family, myths for a new generation

Not entirely sure this fits your prompt as you intended it

[(Anonymous)]

The guards all looked the other way And he crept past to go and play The king

When was this, Mama?

Many years ago, sweet one. He sidled through the city lanes More silently than blood through veins The thief king

Where was he going, Mama?

Wherever he wanted, sweet one. He visited the temple rows And tweaked each godly statue's nose The god thief king

Why didn't that offend them, Mama?

It did, but the Thief is always forgiven, sweet one. He climbed the stele's carven stone And danced and sang all on his own The mad god thief king

Why was he on his own, Mama?

Because his family were sleeping, sweet one. His foe came there and scoffed aloud And did not see the closing shroud The cunning mad god thief king

Did he really kill his foe, Mama?

Even he had to kill sometimes, sweet one. The people saw the fallen foe And praised aloud the end of woe The beloved mad god thief king

Did all the people love him, Mama?

No one worshiped is ever loved by everyone, sweet one. The people followed at his feet Up palace steps from city street And there where he had set it down Was still the annux-heavy crown He sat to rule on altar-throne But he was never there alone The father-brother-husband beloved mad god thief king

Was he really real, Mama?

As real as me, or my mother, or her father, or his father, or his mother who was Eugenides' daughter, sweet one.

[kiraly]

The Cemeteries of Amalo series, Iäna Pel-Thenhior (with optional Thara Celehar), inappropriate subjects for an opera

[(Anonymous)]

No one wants to watch an opera about
the way thy shoulders hunch,
the delicate vowel of thy mouth,
the serpent-tongue flicker of thy eyes
after a laugh that gives too much away

Why then do I want to put it to music?
There are things about thee worthy of song:
the stories of that claw-rake scar on thy back,
of the ashenei whose chairs scrape back when thou sit'st;
the blessing and the curse of thy calling to perpetual grief.

But I am caught on what would never shape a song:
on the coarse grit of thy prayerful voice.
Let me stage thee, then, and let the house empty
and leave just the two of us there, so I can tell thee,
there in the cluttered quiet, how best to stand in the light.

[kiraly]

The Goblin Emperor, Maia Drazhar & Chenelo Drazharan, forgotten words

[kiraly]

Original Work (or scifi fandom of your choice), cyborg or robot character(s), completing a circuit

[(Anonymous)]

Here, have a roundel for robots in love:

A spark jumped the gap with a sizzle of ionized air
Between you and me, as sharp as a thunderclap
When I came to you, broken and needing repair—
A spark jumped the gap.

We were made to be tools, and feelings are always a trap
But resistance is futile; denial will get me nowhere
I can tell by your sensors you're caught in the same mishap.

You pieced me together with patience and infinite care
I'm not quite the same. I'm lost and there isn't a map
What else might we do in this strange new universe where
A spark jumped the gap?

[elleth]

I figure there's at least three of us here, so...

Baldur's Gate campaign, Jazz/Ivrun, chances and changes

[minutia_r]

Okay, here you go, just thinking about reincarnation and so on:

My love for you will never fade
Though seasons change, and all things die
Through every age and circumstance
My love for you will never fade
Though I will die and be remade
I'm sure to find you by and by
Though seasons change, and all things die
My love for you will never fade

Through every age and circumstance
Though I will die and be remade
It's "see you soon"; it's not goodbye
Through every age and circumstance
Our hands will clasp again in dance
Your patient faith will be repaid
Though I will die and be remade
Through every age and circumstance

It's "see you soon"; it's not goodbye
Our hands will clasp again in dance
So I will face death unafraid
It's "see you soon"; it's not goodbye
Just wait for me. No need to cry
As we first met—as if by chance—
Our hands will clasp again in dance
It's "see you soon"; it's not goodbye

My love for you will never fade

[javaink]

any fandom, any, regret

[Miraculous Ladybug] chagrin (a villanelle)

[alexseanchai]

I haven't told you yet, to my chagrin,
Of why I need those earrings and that ring,
Of who you are and who you might have been.

This isn't how I meant it to begin.
I wouldn't need to tell you anything.
I haven't told you yet, to my chagrin,

The powers of these jewels, this brooch, this pin,
Of how you came to be my own offspring,
Of who you are and who you might have been.

I know, at least, you're not that bug's linchpin.
—Who holds your (metaphorical) heartstring?
I haven't told you yet, to my chagrin,

Your mother wouldn't think this is a sin.
She also didn't tell you of this ring,
Of who you are and who you might have been.

All will be well, but first I have to win.
But will you want to tell her everything?
I haven't told you yet, to my chagrin,
Of who you are and who you might have been.