dragon

13th s i g n

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13

The 13th Moon courses the Seasons in Hell
Every month another face, signs & symbols
Specters move across the face of the night
Draegon Fire, Water, Earth, Air, Flesh incarnate
Mytheological transmutations
Lycanthropic, Anthropomorphic
Through 13th Dimensions
Hybrid legends come alive
Devil's Mark branded upon flesh at birth

THE 13TH SIGN...
Sign of The Dragon
Consuming the others
THE 13TH SIGN
Sign of The Beast immortal
666 Hellemental

When Luna pairs with Lucifer in the W/Eastern sky
Hecate, Lilith, Sin, Persephone
Baphomet ascends the hellvens
Seated upon the Firmament Majestic

We are the 13th Sign
The Face of The Dragon upon the 13th Moon
Wings outstretched upon the nocturne tide
Draconian Black Blood
Breathing hellfire with words and deeds
Bloodmoon, blacksun, alignment complete
Upon the 13th night... 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

The alignment coincides above The House as the conditions are right on this 13th night to bring forth the denizens of the netheregions said to reside deep wthin the bowels of The House, where The Gates of Hell part. The 13th Sign reveals itself to be that of The Mighty Black Dragon, corresponding with the race of The Dragon incarnate - those who have been before, are now, and shall be again assemble in the churning shadows 'neath hidden chambers, to enact forbidden rites unknown to common mortals.

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Flying across London at night

Flying across London at night

By jfarrell

 

Look up, and use the stars, the constellations to navigate;

Looking down on London, at night, is the same.

The lights, of landmarks, vehicles….

 

When I first flew with my dragon, I was so lost.

 

But, look down…

The perfect ring of red light,

With a bulge of multicoloured madness below it…

That’s the London Eye (big wheel) and the Southbank area.

 

The elusive, silvery eel that borders that is the Thames;

Look left, look right, follow the silvery trails and the boats…

You’ll find bridges…

And once you’ve identified one bridge…

 

You know where you are, flying over London at night.

 

But I would not recommend flying a dragon over London;

I know they’re cars, boats and trains…

But Karla thinks they’re little bugs

All with with fantastic flavours….

 

We crashed, that first time, opposite Waterloo Station…

Taxi cab had been converted into a fresh coffee bar…

Covered in coffee beans and grounds…

Karla stood up and gave a flaming belch….

 

Even the cab owner agreed, coffee never tasted so good,

Roasted at about a billion degrees…

By a 15 foot chocolate bar…

I really should ask Karla to put some clothes on…

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

anyone know where i can buy a London-wide safety net? my dragon wont wear a saddle or harness....

and i must have been off sick when my school had horse and dragon riding lessons...

;-)

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Dragon scale gown

Dragon scale gown

By jfarrell

 

 

Dazzling…

Eyes blind - everywhere you look

Seared golden brand

Reality, a fog on the edges.

 

Shut your eyes,

The burning, golden scar of light

You still see;

Open eyes; reality still a dense fog, on the edge.

 

Light, stars, madness, pain, joy;

I don’t know how;

My dragon gave to me a cloak…

Woven from her scales.

 

When you look at me, I don’t know what you see;

I can’t see me anymore;

I see a smartly dressed waiter, bartender, food dispenser;

Not a mass murderer… gimme a machine gun!!! PLEASE!!!!

 

Light, so beautiful, you have to praise god;

Dark so powerful, you have to hope there’s a devil;

OMFG!!!! my dragon is so beautiful! More real!!!!

…. but I KNOW your’s are more beautiful, and breathtakingly stunning…

 

Please, SHOW ME!

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

mission impossible masks - rip off the waiter, bartender still here;

rip off that mask....

want cookie with your coffee...

or fries with you hamburger?.....

drunk, stoned, i got so many masks

no-one's gonna find my ghost ;-)

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Dragon’s Scales

Dragon’s Scales

   By jfarrell

 

Yeah, my honey-boy,

Take the sweets, take the comics;

Cut my rapist’s throat.

 

I’m glad you ain’t my kid,

I’d be ashamed of you, you little poof;

Cut my dad’s throat.

 

Jo…Jo…Joey Deacon..

Stuttering fuck, shut up!

Cut all their fucking throats.

 

Why should I make a nice dragon?

For all the ‘nice’ I am, 20% works

The rest is just folks taking me for a fool.

 

I want my dragon stronger, more beautiful, than I;

Hate and scum is all this world wants;

Thus my dragon will be built with what it wants.

 

All the hate I have, the anger;

The bitterness; darkness; cruelty;

My dragon has very, very black scales.

 

:-)

 

And, sorry for the swearing, I don’t mean to be a potty-mouth, but felt it was warranted.

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

why should my draagon be a good guy or girl?

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Dragon’s Release

Dragon’s Release

   By jfarrell

 

Yes, I understand now.

I can’t visually describe my dragon…

And what kinda dragon’s that?

I’m, scared to.

 

(Sting - “be yourself, no matter what they say”)

 

Be myself..

Today, I could, quite happily, cut my dad’s throat,

And piss over his grave;

Same for my mother;

And, describing, visualising, this darkness,

Is a good thing?

 

Yes!

Whether you hurt me a long time ago;

Or whether you were my scumbag neihgbours,

Yesterday, praising god all day, in your arrogance,

Pissing me off, giving me no choice..

 

My dragon looks like hate, my hate;

And it aint about skin colour, or your politics;

It’s about how you make me feel!

I have no voice? What I feel doesn’t matter?

Fuck you!

 

Release this shit!

Sorry for the swearing, but it felt needed;

So sorry :)

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

gotta let it free

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My Dragon’s Vengeance

My Dragon’s Vengeance

By JFarrell

 

 

“THEY KILLED MY CHILDREN?????”

She, my dragon, arises,

Enraged,

A maelstrom of rage,

Vengeance unleashed.

 

Monday night,

22 angels

A children’s pop concert

A piece of garbage with a bomb

 

“THEY KILLED MY CHILDREN????”

My dragon roars and shrieks

With unconsolable pain

And uncontrollable rage

 

The schism of her rage

Leaves nothing but a mushroom cloud.

 

 

Sorry, dedicated to the victims and families of the bomb in Manchester, 22/5/2017

   And the victims of all terrorists around the world.

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

my dragin is angry

The Girl And Her Wyrm

Folder: 
To Be Illustrated

"The Castle was gigantic. 

Expansive, was it's wide thrust,

filled with cracks, crevices and uneven bricks

pock-marked with mortar turning to dust.

 

Inside the deep recess

was a dormant terror,

up in it's highest tower,

a princess lived, none fairer. 

 

But both were locked up,

the furnace inside the gargantuan beast

kept the Castle warm,

the ovens hot, promoting many a feast. 

 

But lest the monster

breaks its shackles!

As once had happened before,

the quest none could tackle.

 

Knight after knight

fell to the flame,

the winged lizard licking tongues

of fire all about, untamed. 

 

Many an arrow was shot

from hunters brave, 

but no purchase for any arrow

was, by the monster hide, gave. 

 

Spear was no better,

having been thrown hard and true,

but not a single mighty heft

would force a metal tip through.

 

Then one day,

the princess who lived above,

just asked, 'give me a chance!',

but her father would allow no tug.

 

So that night,

while the great serpent ravaged the land,

she scaled down her tall tower

with the most daring plan.

 

She crept along the meadow,

in the cold of the moonlit night,

and up the the snoozing beast

she stomped her boot with all her might.

 

The beast sprung up,

startled awake by such a petite thing,

but before he bellowed flame,

she started to sing.

 

Sweetly, softly, 

she sang out her heart,

and through spirit, ripped hers out,

and handed it over, so that they'd never be apart.

 

Since then,

the two remain locked up with no regret.

The land has since healed.

But many don't forget.

 

Of the Girl and her Wyrm,

the star-crossed lovers never meant to be.

And how through love and song

she saved all the eye could ever see."

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Mighty verus Meek. I've learned time and again to not underestimate those of small build; their characters are so often bigger than most.

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Confrontation

On an edge of earth I stood.

 

Wreathed in flames that gave no quarter.

 

Sweltering breath split by an ever beckoning sheen of steel.

 

A resounding collision of infernal force and inexorable will.

 

On an edge of earth I stood still,

 

And so did our cadence of time

 

in this frozen portrait of conflict made from

 

daunting portents of uncertain endings.

 

On an edge of earth, as if a book were finished being read.

 

Where everything has always ever been for you, and has always ever

 

gone without saying.

 

Where I still stand to meet fear with courage.

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