My most ambitious poetry piece so far. Planning to turn it into a song/storybook-esque thing but at the moment, I have just been cleaning up this spoken word rendition,

Peter and Paul - The Complete Odyssey

On different sides of the world
they lived out their days
And for most of their time,
They went separate ways.

Through the modern world’s marvels,
They met each other
And through a shared love of words,
They became as close as brothers.

Peter and Paul, together online,
Developed a shared world of fantasy.
They wrote every detail, coloured each line
And lived out a mutual odyssey.

One day as they spoke and wrote and dreamed,
Both their houses were caught in a tempest.
Lightning struck the lines all around,
The world flickered and in the air pressed.

So strong was their shared imagination,
As they built a world made of verse.
That the sudden cessation caused by the storm,
Had placed upon them a strange curse…

Peter and Paul had not yet met,
They knew things like Paul’s a brunette 
And that Peter likes baguettes.
In their imagined places they’d not shared faces 
And their words filled the spaces,
Adding detail that graces
And replaces their shaking forms 
In the world they made their norm.

They had both been knocked out, 
Thrown about, given shouts,
When the storm had caused the power drought.
When they opened their eyes, 
Trying to surmise, reprise the previous event 
They were surprised to find their surroundings 
Wore a different guise.

Where light once shone there was none.

The world was not black but vivid for the lack of matter, 
Like reality shattered;
                          everything was now flatter.

As they glanced at their new surrounds, 
Waiting for a hint of sound 
They turned around and frowned,
Then gasped at what they found.
Staring from across the dark hall, 
Paul saw Peter and Peter saw Paul.
They weren’t representing, presenting
The images of themselves they’d normally be lamenting 
Or resenting,
Instead they were venting and presenting
The personas they had been inventing.

“Peter?” said Paul “This is the world of our making,
the world of adventure so strange!”
“Yes Paul” said Peter “It’s all about words 
and if we write them, the world we can change”

“In our world we placed many a hurdle” said Paul
“That we must over come with our minds.
There’s bosses of wit before they permit
us to pass them; as per our design!”

“No problem” said Peter “We’ve done this before,
so many nights we’ve solved issues.
We’ll get back home based on logic alone,
as easy as tearing up tissues”

“So if this the land we created” said Paul
“We’ll have to solve poetry riddles?”
“Yes” said Peter “from lands near and far
we’ll use words like we’re playing fiddles”

The room was a void, the dimensions askew
Yet below them they saw a light.
Paul heard a rustle or two under his shoe
And a piece of paper faded into sight.

Paul picked the sheet up and and began to read
The words; there were only a few.
“To exit this room and not be entombed
Build a staircase made of haiku”

No sooner had the note been read aloud,
The message on the paper smeared.
And each word spoken by Peter and Paul
Into the air it appeared.

Peter spoke: 

eternal darkness 
encased in a world of our
imaginations
                                approaching the light
                                with the momentum of thought
                                liberation nears
                                                                       challenges ahead 
                                                                       suggest an oncoming pain
                                                                       yet lure with rewards

The last word solidified from Peter’s mouth
And the lines arranged descending
To the light far below in a staircase of thought
To another challenge impending.

As Peter and Paul walked down the flight
Of haiku essence and spirit
The light grew bigger, colours flooded in
And the world around them went with it.

The void disappeared, fading from view

To reveal lush, green vegetation.
Peter and Paul stopped dead in their tracks
In the interest of self preservation.

“Hey Paul?” said Peter with a little voice tremor
“Another world of ours has been born”
“Yes Peter” said Paul with a wry grin
“This is the land of the leprechaun”

As soon as Paul had uttered those words,
A laugh was heard off in the distance.
It was merry and high, yet they could not deny
It was devious in its persistence.

With a confident nod, they walked toward the sound
Ready for more tests of their worded finesse.
They pulled back a branch to see the leprechaun
Laying back drinking a Guinness.

With a start the wee green man jumped up
And held out his arms to block their way.
With his weathered old face and green felt suit
He made an imposing display.

“Ye have come tee take me gold!” he said
His voice begging to be mimicked
“I’m tinkin’ I’ll be fine with tat,
if ye each quote me a limerick”

Peter and Paul suppressed a laugh
As the fairy pulled out a pipe
“Paul”  said Peter with a big grin
“He’s a living sterotype!”

Paul just laughed and stared at his feet
His mind thinking up a verse.
His eyes open wide and he quickly proclaimed
“Peter, I’ll go first!”

Paul intoned:

“
There once was a lad named Peter
Had a sister but could never beat her.
                She always came first
                Even at her worst
So Peter just called her a cheater.
“ 

“Wonderful!” the Leprechaun cried with glee
“Tat one’s tickled me funny bone
If you can match it me mate” he said to Peter
“I’ll be leaving you lads alone”

Peter swallowed and coughed his cheeks a touch red,
It looked as though he was blushing
And when he started to say his lines
the words they came out rushing:

“
There once was young lad named Paul
Who once swallowed a whole golf ball
                     He was sick for a week
                     And would rather not speak
Of when nature eventually called.
”                     

“Oh yes!” the leprechaun just about spat
“Tat’s exactly what I was after”
And then he was gone and the world was gone too
Leaving the echo of the fairy’s laughter.

Peter and Paul both glowing red 
From their lyrical embarrassment
Did not notice the changing surrounds
Amid the shame of each other’s harrassment

Paul noticed first the new room they were in
Made of brick but no windows or doors
Off to one side a pedestal sat
Pointing out toward the floor

Paul walked up to the pedestal 
And saw words were etched upon it
“To leave this place, you must grace
This room with a topical sonnet”

“Wow” said Peter, “This is quite lucky
You’ve be practising these recently”
“I know” said Paul “I hope this works
But I guess soon we shall see”

Paul climbed upon the pedestal
And struck up a regal pose
His face was tight with thoughts of words
And when he spoke, he spoke to echoes:

“
This land we walk in is our creation
Our thoughts have been caught and solidified
We come from completely different nations
Yet together our lives are edified

The battles we fight here will help us grow
Poetry is our attack and defence
We would be lost here if we could not show
That our love of words is truly immense

This room we created, inspired by Shakespeare
To show the genius of his structured lines
A sonnet, a verse form that can bring fear
A sonnet structurally confines.

The poets before accepted free verse
Had talent that glowed like a gold stuffed purse.
”

Paul stepped down as Peter applauded
And the two friends shared an embrace
All around them bricks started to fall
And soon they were floating in space…

Colour had again faded
But so had gravity and the world’s depravity, 
Peter and Paul were all that filled the cavity.
In the world of their making 
This undertaking saw the journey nearly complete. 
The sweet, sweet taste of the feat they were about to greet 
Gave off a heat to deplete the senses.

“I know well of this world” said Paul
“In here we are nothing and everything”
“Yes Paul” said Peter, floating around
“Our words must have some sting”

The stars around them moved to form words:
They said “If you wish to remove the curse
Each tell of a something you’ve learned on this trip
Through a poem in free form verse”

“A challenge indeed” said Peter to Paul
“We must speak honestly from our heart,
And tell each other just how we feel
Having lived in this world we did start”

“Know that I see you as my brother Peter” said Paul
“From all the time we have spent creating.
Anything you now say, say in the knowledge
That my feelings will not be abating”

“I echo this feeling” said Peter to Paul
“Honesty is the best way forward
You will not lose me as a friend in this
We are tied with the strongest of cords”

Peter Spoke:

Tangible imagination
I feel not the elation seeing my creation coalesced.
I feel not blessed seeing this world that I myself dressed.
For I know it is bound by rules and is schooled
By the pooling limits in my own mind. 

Escaping the world outside to hide in a world where I decide
What to ride shows me I have lied to my inside.
When I float here astride my ideas and beside my close friend for years
I’m not cleansed of fears instead it appears I owe the world,
I’m in arrears.

Paul Spoke:

I see my thoughts solidified
Though they are magnified in my eyes
They have acidified and I realise, 
With only passing surprise 
That escaping within my mind has become my prison over time. 

For these new worlds I have explored I know no more than before. 
I have no increased confidence without external influence and now discover
That hiding ourselves away together has consequence.

I can still create words to lance but I must occasionally glance 
Out of my window to find balance. 
I cannot grow without giving a shout and finding 
What the real world is about.

…

The emptiness around them pulsed
And in flowed familiarity
The projections of these kindred souls
Were the only solidarity 

Peter and Paul, visibly exhausted
Floated close to shake hands and hug…

As they embraced they saw each other’s real face
Before waking alone with a shrug.

On opposite sides the world these startled lost souls
Quickly logged in to resume conversation
When one saw the other pop up online
They filled with unspeakable elation.

“Peter” wrote Paul “We cannot continue
Hiding ourself away”
“I know Paul” wrote Peter “We must meet
I’ll book my flight today”

Peter and Paul met in the flesh
For the first time the saw each other
They still write at night but it’s not their whole life
Each had found their one soul brother.