I know poetic prose exists, but is there any of the converse? For example, I was reading the web novel The Wheel and the Wing where it has this verse that's lush, but without the traditional footing and syllabic limits, and stanzas that are more like bite-sized paragraphs. For example:
[Desde]: When I make anthems, they must fight
as they’re declared. In that game and genre,
yell is over plausibility. You fight to lie,
while I lie in order to fight! [Mitka]: Battles betted onInvolve all arms to dodge a stalemate––but
in mine, where outcomes are fixed, they must
be barely won to have the most applause.
How else did masks warm up to me, but asa way to dampen all their claps and scam
my face out from their minds? It was my way
of handling the first inklings of fame. Masks
were venues, but a vessel, too: a shieldto face fame and fit the many clothes of clout;
a way to hide and a way to catch less eyes.
yet as I made more, I found myself not just
hidden from the public eye, but losingmy eye for puppets. I felt behind a mask,
making puppets move; it was only
carving masks that I truly felt tugged
by strings above. [D]: They sure can’t hideyour crippled legs! [M]: No, but they do hide
who’s the cripple. I was past calling myself I,
but not ready to refer to myself as Mitka
without cringing. Just past starring as others,but before others began to star as me.
Friends who believed my words would soon
believe my works, and doubters of my works
would soon only doubt my life-story.
Anything like that you've seen? By the way, I'm enjoying it so far. It's about a paraplegic who befriends a harpy (has wings, but no arms).
by Super-Cut-2175