DragonsDragons.Dragons8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Some say they never were,
And were birthed from imagination.
The same say that fantasy
Is the realm of children and the insane.
To believe in the magical,
And the fantastic
Is to be as a child or a madman.
I am neither and I believe in dragons.
The majestic Lords of skie
Born of fire.
In an averie of flames
The eggs lie
Warmed by mothers breath.
Emerging weak and hungry,
Unfurl for the first time.
For mothers attention.
Noble, proud and powerful
Lords of the skie
Reach the very stars with
A thermal sigh
And one thunderous wingbeat.
Upon the winds they soar
Breaking free from earths hold.
Higher, faster, beyond the limits.
All nations praise them
And they do not exist?
Fools, they are about you!
Dragon, Wyvern, firedrake
Black, white, blue, red
The old bronze
The nobel silver
The regal gold
The death dragon
The luck dragon
Dragons! Live breath fire and flame
Mighty in body, glory in na
WolvesWolvesWolves6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Silent as the night
Beautiful as the stars
Protective as a mother
Playful as a child
They sing together
They sing alone
They sing to the moon
They sing to each other
They sing to their children
They watch them grow
They are like something
That we'll never know
They live together
They live as one
They walk with the stars
They sing to the moon
They are our bothers
They are our sisters
So let them live with us
Let them live wild
Wild as the wind
Wind as the stars
Wild as the moon
They are wild
Sisters of the stars
Bothers of the wind
Children of the moon
The WolfThe Wolf10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Eternal guardian of the forest
Whose pale eyes glow from the shadows
Running with the wind, fluid and sleek
Your fangs alone make the law
With the stars reflecting off your coat
Of burnished silver fire
Your ears are alert and forward
As a howl echos in the distance
Standing alone, watching through the night
As the moon travels the path of the sky
Unknown, unseen, but forever needed
Wolf...protector of the forest
Protect the weak, join the strong
Pass the birthright to your young
Wolf...guardian of the forest
May you always remain eternal
The WolvesTheir enchanting voicesThe Wolves8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Cry to the crystal moon
As light of silver
Descends with grace
The pale river sparkles
It shivers uncontrollably
Chilled by their cries
Time is frozen
The moment slowly fades
The wolves prowl restlessly
Calling to each other
A song of wonder
Fills the air
None have heard it before
Though it is as ancient as the moon
.you forget that.22 hours ago in Free Verse More Like This
roses have thorns;
a prick of the
skin will tell you
that you're holding
her too tight
Bisexual PrideBisexual Pride3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Yes I am bi
No it does not matter
Every person is as good as the latter
I love differently
Yet I think the same
Many may say it but I am not insane
It's not a phase
or a lust for sex
It is me on the inside being myself
WolfI saw my soul that dayWolf8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I saw it in a pair of amber eyes
Full of sorrow and understanding
I saw the true me that day
In the swiftness of running
On four feet instead of two
Claws and teeth ferocious
As well as kind
I found my true name
In the warm grey fur
Hard and stiff like rocks
Yet soft like velvet
I saw how wonderous the wild is
In song, and soft moss bedding
To work as a team, and to love
I found myself that day
I was lost and blind before
I found myself in the eyes
The eyes of a wolf
He showed me the path
That was hidden
The magic of living again
Not dying, if not for him
I would be dead
I shall never forget that wolf
Who saved my life
Who showed me my true self
My true name
And who to trust it with
LoveLove2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It's something in all of us,
different but still the same.
It's a way of expression;
some times normal,
well some times strange.
It's a feeling that you have;
or sometimes sad.
It's a curse,
or a blessing.
It's something that makes you lose yourself,
or help you find your true self.
It's something that will always happen,
whether like it or not.
But something that can't be controlled,
or be freed.
But always be happy,
that you can love.
RedMoon WolfsLet me tell you a word,RedMoon Wolfs7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A word of the book of the moon
When earth was born
Wolfs ruled all
And from wolfs were born
Their messengers of the red moon
When the flower of lunar blooms
May the paradise of wolfs be opened
By the wolf of legend
His fur as white as the lunar flower
His blood as pure as the ocean is blue
Unbreakable even to his own heart
He guides the wolfs of brown and gray
And to the end is were they are to stay
In the end I will tell you now
Blood ran free on the snow covered ground
As the wolf of black appeared to kill
To take the flower
And murder it still
Though her blood alone is poison,
The one of black drank the curse
Killing him from inside
He taints the snow,
Making it red
Only as one
May paradise be opened
Blood of the white wolf
And the lone lunar flower
Only then may the flower bloom
Opening the doors to paradise
The EarthenI have a wooden heart.The Earthen2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Slowly carved from the crevice
of the poison oak
twined around the holly and ivy
hawthorne, birch, beech,
brittle aspen and whispering pine--
I am what the earth has made me.
Cut open my flesh and sow the seeds
that drift free of the veins like snow;
each dandelion tuft or seedpod remnant
swishing off with each sweep
of the wind's own broom,
spilling words and stories as they go;
growing as they fall,
dying as they wane.
I have bones comprised of iron.
They stand rigid to attention, militant
against the flaking igneous tissue
and the congealing rocky muscle,
layers of fossilized concepts
drilled in by instructed pushing, pulling
kicking, squirming, screaming--
all to wrest the steel of sinew
into the archer's hand to pull,
commanded only when laziness
of tectonic teeth stop grinding
and the quakes of the dancing body
cease long enough to wake the sleeper.
Stone surrounds the skull;
the precious bird nest of the mind
the aerial roost of ideas,
taking wing through
A Wolf's LullabyA Wolf's Lullaby8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Looking through my opened window
Unable to sleep at all
I hear a wolf's cry
Full of sadness and pain
At the sound of it I start to cry
Running into the forest with only my pjs
I follow the trails of wolves
Looking for wounded soul that cried
Finding the wounded animal
Knowing it's about to die
I get on my knees and craddle it's head
Singing a wolf's lullaby
Several years later unable to sleep again
I hear the sound of wolves crying
Full of happiness and rejoice
I fall asleep at the sound of a wolf's lullaby
l'hiver.(you can't tell the birds and the snow apart in the sky:l'hiver.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the grand church of dizzying space - )
and the trees are yellowed in cowardice, raking the sky
to the ground and around and around.
listen to your organs: the almost grand piano of the
churches i'd never attend.
and never mistake the courage of the sky for the cowardice
of the ground. never frown, never frown.
listen to your palms: the salty swing of the old snow
burning up on silk and splendor.
and visit the dying snow birds in their graves of the
ground, and they drown and drown.
(you can't tell the birds and the snow apart in the sky:
a grand church of dizzying space will reply. why. why.
would my white birds die.)
a promise.i ama promise.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a summer day,
riding a bike
crashing; i am scarred,
but i am
healing. i am
in a city of leaves,
i am the ice
pressed against skin,
raising goosebumps; i
am the powder drifting
from the sky,
and i am the grass
from underneath white.
i am life.
BlewI could never dream of EnglishBlew4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
rains that lashed the slabs of Cornish
paves, as a wild clawed cat paws
waves into boats onto rocks
unto death. Hear the slosh
slosh slosh of Mousehole harbour's
bathtub slop; see the gulls flying
backwards, the rainbows as warning
flags, the white horses blowing
up the cliff and over the heath,
taste the wind-nipped salt
drying on your lips. Once I felt
the lightning buzz before
it cleaved a nearby birch in two,
once saw the eye of Men-an-Tol
winking in the storm, and fish
jumping for their very lives
straight into the mouths of birds.
The sea is everywhere. It bites
at our ankles, gnaws at the crags
in cliffs until the whole world
tumbles into its steaming maw.
It rises and falls, rises and falls,
hailing into the flanks of miserable
animals on the storm-sodden tor.
Do they pine, as we do, for one
last breath of stagnant summer?
rootslike drowned men who have lost theirroots2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
clothes and faces, they lay suspended
facing the sun and grinning without
eyes through the ripples of the water.
those passing by wonder how they got here,
these homeless men without fingers or toes
long spindly stumps twisting into lost roots:
reaching to the east, to the south,
to the homes they have forgotten.
Mabonthere are dead leavesMabon1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
sprouting from her amber spine,
reaching with child-fingers
to devour the sun.
her skin is freezing,
seeping winter through
the whiskey tongues
of godless boys
wish to decipher
the atlas of her thighs.
counting the sleepy fireflies
alight in her lungs- there is
wanderlust churning & warming
her frostbitten heartstrings.
swinging pendulum hips,
"I am the tease of autumn flames.
I breathe in mint sunsets,
& gasoline dreams."
winter has swallowed the worldwinter has swallowed the world today,winter has swallowed the world6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
his blistering fury biting at faces
and speckling tree trunks and window
panes. he disguises all things, provides
a pure slate of marble dust that blankets
every surface. when he finally settles down,
all things settle with him. the pine forest
has become a herd of mammoths, weary branches
quietly sweeping the ground below.
AUTUMN WOMANDeep within the belly of my home...AUTUMN WOMAN3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I sip gingerbread tea and line my bed with
the skin of October, groaning beneath my feet
the floor creaks like aging bones, I hear the
air's cookie crunch outside, it breaks up the
fast of my fantasies with its crackling cold,
whispering that Autumn's pantry has been
stocked with a bounty of seasonal reruns,
I see the Sky skirt low before the nibbling
frost as I step outside, I am not as cold as
others may be, I am warmed by Autumn's
plump lips upon mine, keeping me warm
with her mulled applespice, I kiss her-deep
and probing even deeper-our love leaves us
tangled on the Earth, steaming and sweating
-but the mirror has never been clearer, looking
into the slow simmer of creeping years when
I will age into a crone-I do not fear them or her.
Age will make me an Autumn Woman, my belly
full of Wealth and Wisdom, an abundance only
matched by Autumn's full harvest belly, sinking
low, sunken hollow, this little world of me will
be drawn into the slow steady
Orion, UpOrion, UpOrion, Up5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
god is asleep,
but lambs are bleating.
In heaven, Orion is cartwheeling
through the southern sky, tall and thin
and far away. He is your constellation,
and has been these three years.
A cigarette flicked toward empyrean fails
and falls onto desert
plants, unseasonably full from autumn
rainstorms that sweep me up, churning and silt-laden,
across borders, against the months
and haybale sheep, grazing
under a goosedown sky.
the ocean is pollutedthe ocean is pollutedthe ocean is polluted5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and our children will be throat down baptized
in its weightless mausoleum choke.
staring at the rising tide
swallowing the shore,
swallowing the rivers,
man sees himself reflected across the cerulean surface,
remembers the tyrants past,
given power so surging
(the helpless destroyers),
sees the giant lumbering to transplant him
in an ecosystem generated for the mermen,
the chemically inflated
above the land where
there is only hunger and cold,
the leftover lineage
of an animal that slit its own tongue
and drank its belly full,
desperate for the memory of blood.
Fionnuala's SongMirror-light curls and carvesFionnuala's Song6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the ripples of the
cool as a northern caress on
I think that I
might be a
Miyamoto Musashi's Poetrywe reconstruct the manMiyamoto Musashi's Poetry9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
from shards of paper and pottery
(a shrike in ink
a small wooden bodhisattva
a practical treatise on swordplay)
he said his only teacher was Nature
which is a fine thing to say
when you're good at everything
they say he slew Ganryū
with a length of oar
he'd whittled on impulse into a sword
so much for the soul of the samurai:
not metal, flashing and hard
priceless and irreplaceable
only a discarded wooden spar
emerging from refuse
to refuse returning
and perhaps his poems were the same
nourished by earth and water
whispering an answer to wind
burbling off towards the long sea
and this is how history left him
and this is how I might find him:
an old man on a mountain
preparing future warriors for poetry
writing his way back
into the world that wrote him
when he emerges from his grotto to converse with the single scarred wholeness of the moon, I steal towards his poems and brush the pages across my hands, like reaching for a damselfly at rest, to see how his b
Rock Meautumn blunders in, clumsyRock Me2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
stiff fingers frosted still
by early winds, rocking trees
back and forth
red leaves splatter the ground
paint drops, hanging from drooping
branches, rotten fruit still litters the sidewalks
i head south for the fall with the ducks.
the train creaks like aching joints
there's a crow on
my windowsill, ruffling his feathers
the trees flash by
my ticket's got a hole in the middle
from being folded over and over
the crow says "summer ain't that great, Peach Girl."
i watch the sky and ignore his clicking black beak
"the autumn's gonna follow
right behind ya
'n turn the whole world red-yellow-red
at yer heels."
i know in a week
the only green left will be my sweater
holes in the elbows, stringy cuffs
but i waddle like a duck
towards the leftover southern summer.
"i'm not ready for jack frost yet."
i tell him.
"get ready. the autumn storms are a-comin'
an' there ain't nothin' on heaven or earth to stop 'em."