fantasy

Welcome to my Tale (Epic Poem)

So, they say and say I am an out of this world woman,
living in a fantasy world.
To them, I am a lost soul,
a continuous dreamer.
One whose so-called fairytales will never speak;
nor, will they have a chance to exist.
Can anyone tell me what they possess, that I don't?
Who are they to say,
a dreamer cannot set foot into reality.
As reality may be a dream
and my heroes have all flourished.
Yet, listening to one's selfish words,
compells me to believe my world does not compare.
So, here I go......
Leaving my presence once again,
without a spoken word.
To the vast field I drift,
full of impatient vision.
The sweet taste of serenity awaits,
for it knows I will soon arrive to a flashback of chivalry.
On and on I go...on and on.
At last! I am here!
Here with your armor to seek such immortal enchantment,
dreams of fire.
I run towards the unfolded view,
into its earthtone colors.
The friendly grass soothe and grab my feet,
with each step I take;
many soft, cool touches.
Slowly falling back,
your tired hands quickly catch with no release.
The scented breeze,
moves gently on my lively skin;
as they were once your caress.
The incense of nature's existence is invigorating,
allowing me to easily close my eyes.
Breathing in your soul,
I am fully tuned out from materialism of new society.
My mind at ease and in full bloom,
I am ready to discover another mystic tale,
with you again.
And with this I shall draw the curtain,
showing them as it appears to us....................
.................................................................................
I step into a mythical setting where rich greens blanket the land
and its trees as they tower all around me;
leaving but the echoes of your voice.
Each blow of the winds,
send fine glitter dancing down from the shaken leaves.
Overhead, shines your sword in the stone,
near a calm, clear waterfall.
I motion with the rush of your integrity,
watching its beauty descend gracefully;
smoothing many of the sparkling rocks.
By removing my apparel,
unity has taken over as I permit the fall to cleanse my heart.
Crisp water penetrates my soul with enduring love,
so that you can be no more of an apparition.
Butterflies swirl all about,
painting the scene with all but your honor.
Excitement in my footprints,
lead you to where I am found.
A tranquil nook is where you stand,
receiving the sun's glowing rays.
I am settled in complete bliss,
exploiting my melodic harmony where you again wait for my return;
as I you--------
So, when they say and say,
I am an out of this world woman living in a fantasy world..
I can say and say,
I am a poet who dreams.
Nothing more can be said.
 

 


 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Listening to Florence and the Machine's "Cosmic Love" made the piece come alive!

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tags:

deathly dawn

how he tries to be the one i hope for

by just being himself

and how he succeeds

over everyone else

and why am i the selfish kind,'to want what this will bring

even though it will not be pleasant things

her face contorts as she tries not to scream

Fuck you! your breaking me

but also is she unsure,

of the dagger twisting in her heart

tearing lovely chords apart'

thier perfection is definetly un pure

as time pulls on more and more

the dark against the light

both so fake, both so forced, and both so right

it looks good on you, this color of poisen spread,

it looks so beautiful on us, this feeling of eminate dread.

"we will not hold hands" he said

though  that was her one request,

"for the dead can phase the roads unpure, and if we were to travel it would be failure"

Take your road full of hope and destitution and i'll take mine full of lies and prostitution

they lead on as the witch lurked in the shadows

and the horses road high, shedding thier saddles

the sky glowed dark swirling shades of orange  

all three walked thier way into the deathly dawn

 

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tags:

Banquet for Good - Breathing the Light

On this, the final day of the month, we stand in awe of the Banquet for the Good.

We stand in small clusters, in our formal dress. We drink and slowly break the ice, all the while ignoring the absurdity of our presence in such a place for such an event. The colors are bright, as people are encouraged to do their best to stand out. The women are lovely in many different ways. Some of them are so alluring, while others simply make you feel shy. The food is great, and the drink is plentiful.

The performance hall, which houses this year's Banquet, is dimly lit and deeply awash in shadow. The walls are bathed in a very dark shade of blue. It is somehow mysterious and enticing, despite its simplicity.  The men and the women mostly stay away from each other, with only the occasional pair coupling up and separating from the collective.

In the center of the celebration is a colossal display. It has mostly been gawked at and then forgotten by a majority of the guests, but just as midnight comes upon us - the display begins to change. Originally a grand model depicting a single, closed hand; the structure suddenly springs to mechanical life... And the hand opens wide to its audience.

In the center of the display's palm is a beautiful sphere grafted directly into the metal. The sphere resembles an immense diamond with a perfect cut, and is surrounded in its place by a perfect gold ring. We all watch in curious silence as the sphere begins to glow with a faint white light. Slowly, the light becomes more and more pronounced and visible. Yet somehow, its brilliance does not brighten the room that contains it. Our eyes behold it, but it seems as if the light itself is still. And then, the light begins to reach to us.

Its form is strange and unheard of. It travels in the air above us, as something between tangible and intangible. As it extends itself beyond all recognition and toward all of us, many of us feel panic or fear. But no one is moving, or running. Everyone is simply watching, fascinated and unsure. The light finds its way to a lovely young woman with curly red hair. It pours over her and lingers, and with her eyes wide and her mouth closed, she is forced to breathe it in deeply.

At first breath, her eyes shut tight. She sits upright suddenly and rises to her feet, but stops. Her eyes open, and an expression of clarity and peace of mind falls upon her. In moments, she finds herself seated once more, only to breathe in the light deeper and deeper and as deeply as she possibly can.

Others see her, and cautiously attempt to mimic her. I do the same. As I breathe in the strange, living light, I feel nothing but warmth within me. I close my eyes instinctively, and allow my subconscious to reign. My mind fills with images of beautiful places, people and things. I can see myself dancing with every gorgeous woman that has ever crossed my mind for a second time, and I find myself smiling all the while.

As I feel myself return to my senses, I slowly open my eyes. All around me, my fellow guests are breathing the decorated air, and their faces are blissful and momentarily lost. The room itself feels lighter, more alive. I see my friends as they find their grins, and I feel happy. The light has spread far, but is not at all overwhelming. Some sit comfortably, breathing it continuously. Others are looking for company, and are leaving to seek out someone that may mean something to them soon.

I see a girl in a dress of aqua, and watch her for a moment. She sits alone, and seems content to simply breathe in the glow without a word to anyone. Besides the sphere and its light, she is the only thing that has stood out to me. Without thought, I stand and approach her.

She is very kind, and speaks to me as an equal. She is not upset by my intrusion upon her, and invites me to sit.

She tells me her name is Christina.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------->>>

I tell her that I think she's beautiful, and that I'm happy we have met.

She tells me that she wishes we could have met sooner.

I tell her that I feel the same.

We sit next to the display with our fingers intertwined. We watch each other closely as we speak. The light flutters about us, but we pay little attention to its advances. We talk about so many things and with every question answered, we feel our distance lessen. The evening begins to wind down, and we no longer have space between us.

We kiss.

We kiss again.

We stand, hidden away from those we may know, and dive into each other. We turn to whispering, hushing bodies of warmth beneath a place to shelter us. We feel love, but choose not to speak of it until later. We cannot keep from each other, and disregard the approaching footfalls.

There are now hands upon us -

Driving us apart -

Pulling us to our feet.

I see her for just a moment before the people she calls for carry her away.  Her face is dusted with tears, and her expression is that of hurt, and outrage. She shouts, but I cannot hear what she has said.

Someone strikes me, across the cheek. Another, to the back of my head.

I'm dragged to a room I've never seen before. So many people, many that I recognize, are all trying to hurt me. Boots come down upon me as I fight to stand. A familiar voice is screaming in a frantic daze. I hear insults tossed in my direction. I am called a traitor and a fool.

They speak of her; of Christina. They claim she is a whore, a blight, a ruinous witch that will only bring me despair and woe. Blood sprays from my mouth as I shout back, lost in anger and confusion. No one is listening to my words. They only strike me harder.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------->>>

After many hours, I find myself stumbling through a wide, arching doorway. In front of the performance hall, snow has claimed the Earth as its own. The tiny flakes of white continue to fall as I wander into the courtyard, falling to my knees and staring at the ground below. My head is aching... I can't seem to remember what I'm doing here.

The pain is so dull but so persistent.

Who did this to me?

I force myself to stand and continue walking. My jacket is torn and ragged, but the cold isn't bothering me at all. After losing track of my steps, I raise my eyes ahead and see a concrete path, forking in two directions and leading to two gates.

I remember now, this was the night of the Banquet. I met a girl.

Her name is Christina.

Arriving at the fork in the path, my mind is blank. My thoughts are still feeble and slow. My consciousness slips once more, and I stumble to the right. I fall hard, but am shaken from my doze. After picking myself up for the last time, I continue.

This gate leads me home, I think.

But then there is movement far to my left. On the opposite path, a young girl is walking. She wears a dress of aqua that has been torn and stained, and there are smears of lipstick up and down her neck. She looks shaken and afraid, but unharmed.

Instantly, my head is clear, and I raise my hand and call her name.

She stops and turns to me. I can see her face. There are tears in her eyes.

I call her name once more, as loudly as I can.

She waits only a moment longer, turns her gaze from mine, and disappears beyond her gate.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------->>>

I make no attempt to follow her, because the gate she has passed through is not made for me.

I pass through my own, and find that the other side was nothing more than empty space, waiting to be filled by her.

~ The End ~

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Inspirations for this poem include a song by No-Man called Beautiful Songs You Should Know, some cliche elements of Romeo & Juliet, and the love that I have to leave behind

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'06 0h Six 0h Six Pt.1


"This scarce day arrives; His evil is born to this world
Distorted adrenaline will dispose of the young and old
'Selected revolting beings' will be put to death properly
Oh how cathartic to see humans bursting and suffering
Those women shall burn alive as men watch satisfyingly
Those worthless women; pathetic men follow unknowingly
Little did they know how useless they sure really are
And now for this exceptional day, they all went too far
How lava flows out the veins of men melting inside out
How the screams of the women excite him all throughout
Ashes of women and siblings, surfing the lovely atmosphere
Body parts of all heartless men can all be seen, right here
Watching with any absolute soul left as men slowly perish
To think that he at one point, they, he once would cherish
But, oh what a pleasurable moment for David...seriously
No one to look, stare, and laugh at him, only to demean
Through authentic screams, his mental divinity remains fallible
The pathological silence appeared sufficient, yet, not all final..."
The Adversary spoke...

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Yes, my mind tends to go to far showing of its fictive attributes. I apologize. Hmm...

Such an evil perception of or for those people that picked on you till there was nothing left. Like damned vultures just waiting for you to die.

Who IS The Adversary and how did it know my name? He speaks of kind suffering? "Kindly have them suffer and their children for what they did and to others. Pity."

Adrenaline makes you do the most phenomenal things. Well, it was decades ago and the imagination still lurks about... Oh Creativity...live a little!

"But, there was always somebody following me...as if I was being watched or...even monitored."

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"Hillbilly Smile (Remix)"

Folder: 
Hillbilly Smiles

by Jeph Johnson

 

Kenneth Campanella
had one-a-them hillbilly smiles
He'd have no problems askin' gals
to dance with style
So with his city boy traits
and a countryside glance
He went up to her table in the back
and asked her to dance
She asked him his name
and he replied with a grin:
"Kenneth Campanella,
but you can call me Ken"
She said her name was Barbara,
"I's born Barbara Ann Cook"
"I never go by Barbie,
so don't give me that silly look!"
He soon had her feet a-spinnin',
dancing away her fears
Smiling like the corner of her lips
were pinned over her ears
They waltzed across Texas
and did the one from Tennessee
They two-stepped so happily
they were wishing they had three
After their dance marathon
they sat down to wet their thirst
"I'll have a big tall microbrew,
no, wait, you order first..."
Barbara batted her eyes at Ken,
and said, "I'll share his brew"
The bar became a malt shop;
them holdin' hands and pitchin' woo
"I'll give you my number Ken,
if you promise me you'll wait
until I've called my friends
and told them all about our date"
"That's fine, Barbara,
I've made a habit of waitin' three days-
Any sooner and ya'd get an impression
of desperation portrayed"
"Oh Ken, you're just so perfect,
I will wait there by the phone,
Oh, by the way, I was meanin' to ask,
did you come here alone?"
"No, my buddies John and Hector
are over there playin' pool
Hector hustles him every time,
when he drinks John is a fool"
"My friends Camille and Terry
were playin' the lottery,
Let's go see if we can find 'em,
Terry's tall and wearin' green
and Camille's got a bandana on
of some guy named Sawyer Brown,
Terry's not quite drunk by now,
might take her another round."
They laughed and joked and partied hard
and danced a little more
and soon all six of the whole gang
were headin' out the door.
Hector took a passin' fancy
to Terry's big green eyes and
John saw somethin' in the way
Camille snuggled up beside him.
So at two o'clock or there abouts
they all went back to Ken's
Jumpin' in his indoor swimming pool
wearin' just their skin.
It became a party faster than
you can say "Jay-Dee"
The deepest end of the pool
was deeper than even Hector's reach
Pourin' more Jack Daniels,
and then mixin' it with Coke
Barbara fell in the deepest part,
hit her head and didn't float.
Ken was turned, his head was spinnin'
like a roulette wheel
John was watchin' Terry
watchin' Hector watchin' Camille.
They all passed out and in the morning
awoke only to find
Barbara now was floating,
a bit late, but floating fine.
Ken called the police, the fire trucks
and an ambulance rescue
But Barbara lay there pale-naked,
bloated, in full view.
So the moral of the story, friends,
is no matter how wonderful
Something appears to be,
it really could be a bunch-a-bull!
Everyone at the local bar
thought Barbara and Ken were "it"
Instead we find Ken jailed away
for criminal negligence.
"I bought the drinks that night,
but we drank too much though,
My pool even had a life preserver,
but we just didn't know...
My Barbara drowned that night
and I will never drink again...
Now I sit incarcerated,
locked away in this here prison."
So we take our story back
to that same bar another weekend night
The party's goin' fine,
drinkin' and dancin' in the lights...
And at that same ol' table
there's a couple smiling in the back,
Perhaps not Ken and Barbie,
but then really who's keepin' track?

Author's Notes/Comments: 

1999 

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