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Fairystories and Fables from John Klue

by JohnKlue


FairyStories and Fables 

from John Klue

By John Klue

Logon.

Logon was a boy with See-Through Skin. Logon’s veins were visible through his plastic pelt.

We can see Logon’s organs working 24 hours a day, It is always rather investing to see a mans blood be made. The lungs and liver, The Guts and gore, The Intestine large and small every innard labored so that this glass boy won’t fall. Logon had orange eyes and a keen sense of smell, he could rarely hear however because his ears were jelled.

Logon wore cargo shorts and played a lot in the lake, a jester should be jealous at all the merry Logon could make.

Logon was taller than the teacher, The teacher was 5foot 5.

Logon had a puppy that he christened her Bobbit because she castrated her last owner.

Logon’s puppy Bobbit was a Pomeranian she was fluffy and fiery and fun.

Logon and Bobbit were best buddy’s they would play the day away.

Until That one night on the fifth of May.

Seto Taisho.

The spoons that scramble in the halls.

The cries echoing off the gallery walls.

A War is raging in the oriental kitchens.

A porcelain free for all.

The shattered ceramics and dented tableware in the night are reborn

And seek new affairs.

The Porcelain soldiers scoff at “Carrying Cuisine”

They regroup into regiments so to march of their enemies.

While you and your families are snug in rest

The Seto Taisho military thirsts for conquest.

But just like you or me the Taisho do not always agree

So they fight one another brother against brother.

A turf war ten times as gruesome as Tsushima.

The Dinning halls have been flooded and claimed by Admiral Kappu of the Gyokuro coalition.

The Pantry has been plundered by Generalissimo Hashi and his Rayu Raiders.

And the Anmitsu Armada has overrun the freezer under the orders of major general Kōri.

It is truly a dark time in the kitchen. 1:30 A.M.

Chinaware was not meant to shatter each other.

Because now I have to clean it up in the mourning.

Abigale Gompoth.

Abigale was a southern girl with eyes on the backs of her hands. Her average eyes were sowed shut by a single silver thread. Some people felt sad for her, we assumed the thread was bad for her. But Abigale was a happy gal. A cheerful child with a ten thousand ruble smile. She loved the sun, she loved the snow, She Loved the Rain.

Abigale was raised on her Grandpop’s train. A silver steamer that shot through the countryside over an ocean of ironwood. Abigale loved the silver steamer that her grandpa conducted, she loved it before she knew how it was constructed. Abigale’s eyes saw the forest before the steam train. When the eyes showed Abigale what the train truly costs her heart sank because of what was lost.

Abigale still loved the sun, Abigale still loved the snow.

But Abigale could no longer love the rain.

The rain was water no longer.


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15 Reviews

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Thu Aug 12, 2021 12:26 am
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Rodionandaxe wrote a review...



Hi! I am Rodion and I am here to give a little review,

I absolutely ADORE the three poems you've written. I have come across very few works that enable such outlandish and vivid images in my head. The worlds that you've presented in your works are so fantastical and beautiful, makes me want to visit them.

Logon was a boy with See-Through Skin. Logon’s veins were visible through his plastic pelt.

We can see Logon’s organs working 24 hours a day, It is always rather investing to see a mans blood be made. The lungs and liver, The Guts and gore, The Intestine large and small every innard labored so that this glass boy won’t fall. Logon had orange eyes and a keen sense of smell, he could rarely hear however because his ears were jelled.


The imagery is breathtaking. I know a lot of people would find this a bit disturbing to read but I for one am completely captivated by the beauty and uniqueness of Logan. The fact that such a cool feature of having transparent body comes with a shortcoming is very realistic. Makes one feel sympathy as well as awe for this boy.

I would describe the rest of the poem (Logan) tragic and whimsical. Thats such a good combination, you've portrayed it admirably.

The poem Seto Taisho was a bit of a riddle for me. There were parts I couldn't comprehend, most probably because of my lack in knowledge regarding the subject of east asian military.

Now of the parts I felt I could comprehend,
The entire idea of chinaware going to war is brilliant. The description you've given is equally brilliant.
It is truly a dark time in the kitchen. 1:30 A.M.

Chinaware was not meant to shatter each other.

Because now I have to clean it up in the mourning.

This bit was my favourite. The word play here is wonderful. You gave dark time and mourning a dual meaning, thats ingenious, I could never come up with that.

Abigale was a southern girl with eyes on the backs of her hands. Her average eyes were sowed shut by a single silver thread. Some people felt sad for her, we assumed the thread was bad for her. But Abigale was a happy gal. A cheerful child with a ten thousand ruble smile. She loved the sun, she loved the snow, She Loved the Rain.

I feel this stanza brings out the difference of others interpretation of one's life and one's own thoughts about it. Sometimes when someone is thought to be happy and lucky they actually might be the exact opposite, in this case people think she is unfortunate but infact she is content and perhaps happier than them.
Abigale was raised on her Grandpop’s train. A silver steamer that shot through the countryside over an ocean of ironwood. Abigale loved the silver steamer that her grandpa conducted, she loved it before she knew how it was constructed. Abigale’s eyes saw the forest before the steam train. When the eyes showed Abigale what the train truly costs her heart sank because of what was lost.

Abigale still loved the sun, Abigale still loved the snow.

But Abigale could no longer love the rain.

The rain was water no longer.

Is this about pollution and acid rain? Because I can't help but think about that. I might be wrong though and please correct me if I am (I am a science student :D so I can't help but think about pollution and stuff we have learnt in ecology)
The change of feelings towards things she loved as she gained awareness is melancholy but at the same time represents intellectual growth and understanding. "The rain was no longer water" this I guess means that it wasn't pure water and was polluted perhaps.

Anyway you made me fall in love with all your characters and if I was good at art I would love to paint them. Maybe I will one day ;) when I get good enough.
Keep writing such lovely pieces <3



Random avatar
JohnKlue says...


It is nice to know you loved my stories.
But I cannot take full credit for the Seto Taisho because they are actually from real Japanese Folklore and I really wanted to use them.



Rodionandaxe says...


I had never heard of Seto Taisho before and I think its okay to use the old folklore as inspiration because the poem is still yours isn't it?


Random avatar
JohnKlue says...


Of course.



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Tue Aug 10, 2021 2:53 pm
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Kelisot wrote a review...



These stories are interesting!!! It leaves quite a cliffhanger (I don't care if you don't continue, okay, ignore what I just said, I want to know what tragedy happens), and it's making me anticipate what happens next.
All of these characters have their own story, and I wonder what happened to each of them, and their tragic ends.





I tell the neophyte: Write a million words–the absolute best you can write, then throw it all away and bravely turn your back on what you have written. At that point, you’re ready to begin.
— David Eddings