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Drabble: Figuratively Speaking

More about Buffy and poetry. This time I've committed actual, honest-to-goodness poemfic, with citations and everything. Woe is me. Written for still_grrr for the "yellow" prompt.

~~~~

Buffy has certain difficulties with this metaphor stuff.

The yellow fog that rubs its back along the window-panes.

How are you supposed to tell? Poetifying pollution one thing; freaky mystical sentient weather? So a different story.

A waning moon was haunted by woman wailing for her demon lover.

Problematic. Lover probably actual demon; haunting maybe figurative? The moon being kind of barren as ghostly getaways go.

Then again, some poetry is pretty straightforward.

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed


So much for that paper due tomorrow; it’s time to go stem the tide again.

~~~~~

1. The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, by T.S. Eliot
2. Kubla Khan, by Samuel Coleridge
3. The Second Coming, by W.B. Yeats

Comments

( 4 comments — Leave a comment )
zanthinegirl
Jun. 4th, 2010 04:58 am (UTC)
I love both Buffy and poetry; but I can easily imagine she'd have a hard time with the metaphors. She's such a practical soul!

Isn't it canon that she liked her poetry class in college?

eta for grammar fail!

Edited at 2010-06-04 05:00 am (UTC)
snickfic
Jun. 4th, 2010 10:54 pm (UTC)
Yep, it's canon that she liked it. She might have still been mystified by certain things, though, especially since the poets' assumptions and hers about the world might be fairly different. :)
quinara
Jun. 4th, 2010 09:38 am (UTC)
Hee!!

(Ohh, I so want to write a fic where Buffy somehow becomes a published poet, only to have her frank and literal work lambasted as purple and OTT...)
snickfic
Jun. 4th, 2010 10:56 pm (UTC)
Hee to you!

Actually, in the course of this fic I decided I wanted to write a fic about Buffy fighting the Jabberwock (although now that I think about it, didn't someone do something like that for seasonal_spuffy a couple of years ago?), and the housemate now wants me to write a fic involving Buffy and white chickens, in which everything really does depend on a red wheelbarrow. Except, I think that might be a bit too cracky even for me.
( 4 comments — Leave a comment )

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