THE WORLD - What is lyrical prose? by jrqc

I always rely on imagery and sensory language when writing poems, short stories and whatever else I can tap my imagination and feelings with.

Lyrical prose blurs the line between prose and poetry and it is, in my humble opinion, the perfect way to make reading a sensory experience while focusing on the emotions and feelings of the character / narrator and in this way creating an atmosphere and the mood through which the story or prose is developed.

There is also a sense of musicality, since the rhythm and sounds of the words contribute to the overall effect of the writing. Simultaneously, the use of imagery is for me of utmost important in order to create that sensory experience for the reader. Just saying "Maria was tired" does not convey imagery but more of a statement. The notion of sensory imagery falls, I believe, in the concept of "show not tell" making the experience of reading richer and soulful.

Letting feelings set free, allows the narrator to express them with no limitations or narrative constraints, which at times might be difficult to comply, that is to the "rules of writing". Feelings consist of a natural and essential part of writing a poem, a character, etc.

All in all, set free your creative writing, explore feelings and emotions through imagery and sensory descriptions. I can assure you, you will see the difference and most importantly, is just a beautiful experience.

Here is an example of a piece I have just written. Once I read it outloud, I could identify the elements described above.

The world is an extraordinary place and brush strokes of colors adorn it in whimsical splashes,

the beauty of the greens and the arms of the trees, bewildering, calling me,

and I heed their call and take the hands of solace upon mine,

and they let me be part of their light, and within me grows a struggle, subtle.

I behold its difference and indifference, and I become a part of it,

the light bouncing everywhere, playful, pervades my flesh,

its caresses, gentle and powerful quenches my thirst, making me whole.

The other world, capricious, bathed in greyness, merciless,

chained my soul, with rattling shackles, bringing decay,

no, no more of it, no more of its fumes,

I long and yearn for my wings to be spreaded, let me fly.

As I paint the silhouette of the wind, my mind flows in waters of calmness,

idleness finds no refuge within me,

I let go,

the world of colors,

sublime,

free.

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