Diving Bell

For this week, I have written a summer-like poem, done in a free-verse form. I've been feeling the heat, but I've been trying to respark a furious inspiration I felt last year, and I want to have written ten manuscripts before 2017. I'm at eight now, with number nine but 30,000 words away from being completed. I'm so-close, but so-far gone from my goal. I hope many of you enjoy this poem, even in it's unorthodox style. I simply hope it resonates, and perhaps brings a different focus to the Malacast Editorial. I thank you ahead-of time, because I want the last you read to be the poem. Enjoy: 

                                                                            Diving Bell

  Diving Bell

  Bell no longer

  No longer a ringing window 

  A window into the depths

  Depths of the unknown monsters

  Monsters that hide behind an embellishing light. 

  The light that stems from the life force beating. 

  A life force beating heavily in chest, to seek out replenishment. 

  Replenishing nourishment, through Diving Bell we see murky

  Murky opalescent water with overgrown microbes, attaching on alien glass. 

 Glass without cleanliness, even if forever submerged. Great Diving Bell sees the misunderstood. 

  Misunderstood anglers, gutter eels post-haste in primordial befuddlement. Aliens of their own Earth. 

  Earth, a final frontier in the submersible depths. What splendor! What glory! What horrors befall you. 

 All seen, thanks to Diving Bell.