Jimmy Rabbit (Rhymed Prose/Experimental abomination - 298 words)

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Wahara

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There's a good chance that I might get yelled at since this sort of thing isn't really done and breaks a lot of rules, stylistically. The unmetered rhyme and absence of verse are intentional, but I'm having fun, so don't judge me okay! I decided to first record it in audio to give you an idea of how it might be read, and to maybe separate the reader from bias.

https://drive.google.com/open?id=0ByapCAzf36DMbzBLYlBSTGhoeVE

If that link doesn't work, try this:

https://drive.google.com/file/d/0ByapCAzf36DMbzBLYlBSTGhoeVE/view?usp=sharing

Here is the actual text:

Jimmy rabbit, with suave hair and kind eyes that killed, broad shoulders which made girls go still, but one weakness unremedied with charm nor wit: a gut and fleshy pair of tits. He flirted and cavorted with damsels of the brush, telling jokes which made them laugh, sang songs which made them cry, until they felt what hid beneath his leafy vest. After they cupped a squish, they took flight across the forest floor, excuses trailing behind in the breeze: a dead grandmother, a dentist’s appointment, incurable disease.

Jimmy rabbit kicked the dirt, shedding a tear. Knocking on home’s door, he said, “Mom always understands, mom is always here.” He sobbed, sniffed, asking, “I’m gifted, kind, smart. Why do my advances - these romantic dances - fall apart?”

In her lap, his mother stroked his hair. “The animal kingdom is cruel. It decrees that weak mingle with weak, strong with strong, pretty with pretty. Find a girl who matches your curve, and think beyond what you ‘deserve.’ ”

Jimmy rabbit poured a strong drink. “But I’m young. What’s the point if I can’t have someone who’s fun to touch? Is a little flesh with my love asking too much?”

“Choosiness is the curse of youth and time is ticking fast; that’s the truth. We fear dying alone because many do, and lasting love is rare.”


***​


Jimmy rabbit slumped into his wheelchair and rolled from room 109. In the lounge he spilled his applesauce, to ogle his rabbit nurse’s behind. He didn’t mind that she was big, but for him it was much too late. His heart beat fast at the view, eye twitching amid a stroke; the nurse held his hand tight and before the dying of the light, he spoke, “I love you.”

She didn’t say it back.

--------------------------

Again, this sort of thing is just something that I like to play with. If you think it's something that just needs to be destroyed as soon as possible for the betterment of humanity and that I should take up knitting instead, go ahead. I'm just dabbling.

I know one of the main concerns is that rhyme in prose can just sound annoying to the reader. I'm not having that issue because I wrote it, obviously, but one line that I have concern about is "Find a girl who matches your curve, and think beyond what you ‘deserve.’ ” In my opinion, the rhyme may serve to just make the dialogue sound goofy. But I don't know for sure, hence, why I'm posting. Since it's unmetered rhyme, I might just end at "Find a girl who matches your curve."

The reason why I'm drawn to this kind of unorthodoxy is because I really like the idea of children's books, but for adults. Does that even make sense? I have no idea. Simple tales, with simple rhyme, with simple characters, but with much more emotionally complex themes. But yeah, just let me know if it worked for you or not.

*shrinks*
 
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The Urban Spaceman

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Jimmy Rabbit <<proper nouns should be capitalised—if Jimmy Rabbit isn't so much a name as a description, it would make more sense to me to have it as "Jimmy the rabbit">>, with suave hair and kind eyes that killed, broad shoulders which made girls go still, but one weakness unremedied with <<neither>> charm nor wit: a gut and fleshy pair of tits. He flirted and cavorted with damsels of the brush, telling jokes which made them laugh, sang songs which made them cry, until they felt what hid beneath his leafy vest. After they cupped a squish, they took flight across the forest floor, excuses trailing behind in the breeze: a dead grandmother, a dentist’s appointment, incurable disease.

Jimmy rabbit kicked the dirt, shedding a tear. Knocking on home’s door, he said, “Mom always understands, Mom <<proper noun>> is always here.” He sobbed, sniffed, asking, “I’m gifted, kind, smart. Why do my advances - these romantic dances - fall apart?”

In her lap, his mother stroked his hair. “The animal kingdom is cruel. It decrees that weak mingle with weak, strong with strong, pretty with pretty. Find a girl who matches your curve, and think beyond what you ‘deserve.’ ”

Jimmy rabbit poured a strong drink. “But I’m young. What’s the point if I can’t have someone who’s fun to touch? Is a little flesh with my love asking too much?”

“Choosiness is the curse of youth and time is ticking fast; that’s the truth. We fear dying alone because many do, and lasting love is rare.”


***​


Jimmy rabbit slumped into his wheelchair and rolled from room 109. In the lounge he spilled his applesauce, <<comma splice>> to ogle his rabbit nurse’s behind. He didn’t mind that she was big, but for him it was much too late. His heart beat fast at the view, eye twitching amid a stroke; the nurse held his hand tight and before the dying of the light, he spoke, “I love you.”

She didn’t say it back.

I quite liked it, it has a very parable feel about it.
 

Ed_in_Bed

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A little late to the party, but for what it's worth I quite liked it. The rhyming didn't bug me at all. The 'dying of the light' bit sounds like a Dylan Thomas rip off though - far too famous a phrase to use in poetry or prose (unless it's parody or something). Other than that little quibble, I thought it was well done.
 

suziquaif

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I really like this, its bitter sweet and made me smile. Mixing reality with imagination is clever and makes the piece feel grounded. Technically it could be polished, but when did anything ever written come out perfectly shiny first time round.

It's a style that I've played with before and on the same subject. Relationships and love, things that have heart and are borne out of sorrow and passion, seem to lend themselves to ryhming prose. Maybe because it mimicks a heartbeat, or emotive text needs more than just grammatical correctness and more freedom than the limitations of poetry. I released my rhyming prose on an unsuspecting world in the past and got a rabbit in the headlights response to it. I surmised that people look at and see echoes of Shakespeare. Shakespeare = you need to be clever to understand it. Or maybe just because its a deprture from the norm.

Maybe you could start up a 'it's not Shakespeare' society. I would join in a hearbeat. :)
 

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