Poetry competition CLOSED 24th February 2012 8:42pm
WINNER
Whitewand6
Whitewand6
RUNNERS-UP:
Kou_Indigo
and nagasaki
Year of the Dragon
Anonymous
The Dragon in the style of William Blake The Tiger
Dragon, dragon, burning bright
in the dark forest of the night
What immortal living are dead
could see your wrath
or hear the music you played.
And what magic stone was placed in your eyes
to burn so bright day and night
What inspired you to dwell
in the starry, starry skies and in the fiery pits of hell
Who twisted barb wire around your heart
to make the flames you snort
and when your heart began to bleed
is that when you grew your black tar wings?
What dread gasp, one last breath
before you sent terror upon God's land
Did your soul scorch at Hell's gates?
Did you see the stars fall from Heaven's open door
did not all rebel against your burning Hell?
Dragon, dragon,burning bright
in the dark forest in the night....
Dragon, dragon, burning bright
in the dark forest of the night
What immortal living are dead
could see your wrath
or hear the music you played.
And what magic stone was placed in your eyes
to burn so bright day and night
What inspired you to dwell
in the starry, starry skies and in the fiery pits of hell
Who twisted barb wire around your heart
to make the flames you snort
and when your heart began to bleed
is that when you grew your black tar wings?
What dread gasp, one last breath
before you sent terror upon God's land
Did your soul scorch at Hell's gates?
Did you see the stars fall from Heaven's open door
did not all rebel against your burning Hell?
Dragon, dragon,burning bright
in the dark forest in the night....
The Pact Maker
The dragon
with fire
the creature
the teacher
of the lesson .
the sire
to uncover
the liar.
The sorcerer
the new found
reptile brother
who is a known fact breaker
you know you need to take a
flying friend pact maker
a team to flame
the fabricator
a beam to burn
all who forsake you
a must it seems
to rid the faker
to kill all rust
so it gleams
the perfection
fiction
flying erradicator
the fairytale
depiction
eliminator
the arrow tailed
big scale
conversational ,
observational
all time terminator .
So wouldn't you
just love to make a
flying friend
pact maker.
To burn to fry
to turn and fly
right through the eye
of evil opticals
that try
to wrongly
foresake you .
The dragon
with fire
the creature
the teacher
of the lesson .
the sire
to uncover
the liar.
The sorcerer
the new found
reptile brother
who is a known fact breaker
you know you need to take a
flying friend pact maker
a team to flame
the fabricator
a beam to burn
all who forsake you
a must it seems
to rid the faker
to kill all rust
so it gleams
the perfection
fiction
flying erradicator
the fairytale
depiction
eliminator
the arrow tailed
big scale
conversational ,
observational
all time terminator .
So wouldn't you
just love to make a
flying friend
pact maker.
To burn to fry
to turn and fly
right through the eye
of evil opticals
that try
to wrongly
foresake you .
- Sage of the Jade Dragon -
(Xiánzhě Yùlóng)
In the mountains that rose, to meet the lapis sky…
There, climbed an adventurer, a pilgrim: a warrior.
In the Imperial Court, not a man could ever deny,
His deeds were legendary, and filled with hot fire!
In his youth, he fought in the Three Kingdoms age,
For the land of Wu, the fortunes of the Sun family!
Now he was quiet, contemplative like unto a sage,
As he stole up the high lofty paths: ever so silently.
Along the path, the climber came upon a tiny hut…
Wherein a hermit dwelt, who asked him this query:
“Do you seek to learn something, and journey up?
Or do you seek to erase something from memory!”
But not a word the climber spoke, except for this,
A statement for which the hermit had no answer…
“I have had my fill of war and now I long for bliss.”
And so the adventurer journeyed on, even quieter.
Nearer the summit of the mountain, he came then,
To a tent pitched on a ledge, with a slim path to it.
Within, was the most beautiful of all living women!
She bade the climber relax, and by her side to sit.
“If it is bliss you seek, I can show you ecstasies…
Which will make you forget the evils of old battle.”
But he declined, his truths crossing all boundaries:
“Ecstasy ends, but memories return with a rattle!”
Finally the adventurer reached the mountain’s top,
And there, he found a temple carved of cool jade.
Within was a dragon, which bid him to there stop,
And the dragon’s revelation made him feel afraid!
Mountains upon mountains, each higher than last,
Rose beyond the temple like the bones of a spine.
“Will you climb forever, running from your past?”
And back down the mountain, the man did climb.
He became a gifted sage, in the Emperor’s court,
Writing works, which wise men quoted for years.
Never again did he look to the heavens for sport,
Nor seek to purge himself fully of his mortal fears.
He found bliss, in accepting where he had been…
While creating a future, free from his old burdens.
He thanked the Jade Dragon, who he had seen…
Without him, he would still be climbing mountains!
(Xiánzhě Yùlóng)
In the mountains that rose, to meet the lapis sky…
There, climbed an adventurer, a pilgrim: a warrior.
In the Imperial Court, not a man could ever deny,
His deeds were legendary, and filled with hot fire!
In his youth, he fought in the Three Kingdoms age,
For the land of Wu, the fortunes of the Sun family!
Now he was quiet, contemplative like unto a sage,
As he stole up the high lofty paths: ever so silently.
Along the path, the climber came upon a tiny hut…
Wherein a hermit dwelt, who asked him this query:
“Do you seek to learn something, and journey up?
Or do you seek to erase something from memory!”
But not a word the climber spoke, except for this,
A statement for which the hermit had no answer…
“I have had my fill of war and now I long for bliss.”
And so the adventurer journeyed on, even quieter.
Nearer the summit of the mountain, he came then,
To a tent pitched on a ledge, with a slim path to it.
Within, was the most beautiful of all living women!
She bade the climber relax, and by her side to sit.
“If it is bliss you seek, I can show you ecstasies…
Which will make you forget the evils of old battle.”
But he declined, his truths crossing all boundaries:
“Ecstasy ends, but memories return with a rattle!”
Finally the adventurer reached the mountain’s top,
And there, he found a temple carved of cool jade.
Within was a dragon, which bid him to there stop,
And the dragon’s revelation made him feel afraid!
Mountains upon mountains, each higher than last,
Rose beyond the temple like the bones of a spine.
“Will you climb forever, running from your past?”
And back down the mountain, the man did climb.
He became a gifted sage, in the Emperor’s court,
Writing works, which wise men quoted for years.
Never again did he look to the heavens for sport,
Nor seek to purge himself fully of his mortal fears.
He found bliss, in accepting where he had been…
While creating a future, free from his old burdens.
He thanked the Jade Dragon, who he had seen…
Without him, he would still be climbing mountains!
- Upon the Wings of Dragons -
Upon the wings of dragons, dreams descend upon the slumbering mind's eye,
Bringing forth such imaginings, that in their surreal beauty would oft surprise...
For all that we are, and all that we could be, within those dreams do thusly lie.
It matters not the face we wear, when upon we awaken upon the sun's rise...
We all have our dreams, and our dragons aplenty, that guide us upon our way,
When we do rise to face yet another hour in another long and laborious day.
'Upon the eyes that look and see, with understanding, there is such wonder,
And all who wonder thus, as children are want to, they are strong as thunder.'
Oh to fly on the wings of dreams made fresh and real, and savor the illusion...
Knowing it will not fade, nor grow distant with time, nor fail to inspire our soul!
Oh to know that what wonder we find is of this world, free of any confusion...
The songs we might sing in that hour would rival the angels in all glory to extol!
Are we not glorious when in the light of our dreams, we wield a power mighty,
And using it for good, create an art like no other, sharing it so that all may see?
'Upon the winds of Elysium, every dream is borne unto a far, destined shore,
And upon the cheeks of those where they blow, contentment is had evermore.'
Where would we go, if in one instant, we could cross the spans that separate?
What would we do, if in one instant, we could touch any heart with our poetry!
To know for a certainty that inspiration could make a difference in every state,
The conscious and the unconscious, both elevated to heights beyond all ecstasy.
Now that would be an art most fair, and what music upon our lyres so shaped,
That the Muses would be all clad in it, and over their forms it would be draped!
'Upon the hours of the day, a day spent well is crowned with a shining raiment,
And those who spin such cloth of their lives, are forever made joyfully content.'
Oh to sing with a voice that could touch heaven, and move the gods to manifest,
Their glory filling every space, and of every place an Olympus made from earth!
Then would mankind know divinity well, and the sovereignty of it never contest,
Lest to question it would thusly be: to question even the hour of one's own birth.
And to every hand that reaches out, another reaching back like God to Adam...
Would that not be art, to stand forever in the light of understanding's kingdom!
'Upon the heights of paradise, every voice raised in song: echoes passing fair,
And every face beholds the glory that, before, had hidden from them there.'
What magic even in magic made, where Diana from her lofty place descends...
To share in the fellowship of her faithful, and join in their gatherings down here!
What glory even in glory known, in such a world: where no one so condemns...
The faith of another, for all faiths manifest would be as equal and draw all near,
To hear what truths may be learned from listening to others, and so not judging!
A first for mankind, and what dreams that it might birth would cause fair singing.
'Upon the wings of dragons, every fantasy is made a thing of beauty ever pure,
And every dreamer is rewarded, with a wisdom that is both certain and sure.'
Upon the wings of dragons, dreams descend upon the slumbering mind's eye,
Bringing forth such imaginings, that in their surreal beauty would oft surprise...
For all that we are, and all that we could be, within those dreams do thusly lie.
It matters not the face we wear, when upon we awaken upon the sun's rise...
We all have our dreams, and our dragons aplenty, that guide us upon our way,
When we do rise to face yet another hour in another long and laborious day.
'Upon the eyes that look and see, with understanding, there is such wonder,
And all who wonder thus, as children are want to, they are strong as thunder.'
Oh to fly on the wings of dreams made fresh and real, and savor the illusion...
Knowing it will not fade, nor grow distant with time, nor fail to inspire our soul!
Oh to know that what wonder we find is of this world, free of any confusion...
The songs we might sing in that hour would rival the angels in all glory to extol!
Are we not glorious when in the light of our dreams, we wield a power mighty,
And using it for good, create an art like no other, sharing it so that all may see?
'Upon the winds of Elysium, every dream is borne unto a far, destined shore,
And upon the cheeks of those where they blow, contentment is had evermore.'
Where would we go, if in one instant, we could cross the spans that separate?
What would we do, if in one instant, we could touch any heart with our poetry!
To know for a certainty that inspiration could make a difference in every state,
The conscious and the unconscious, both elevated to heights beyond all ecstasy.
Now that would be an art most fair, and what music upon our lyres so shaped,
That the Muses would be all clad in it, and over their forms it would be draped!
'Upon the hours of the day, a day spent well is crowned with a shining raiment,
And those who spin such cloth of their lives, are forever made joyfully content.'
Oh to sing with a voice that could touch heaven, and move the gods to manifest,
Their glory filling every space, and of every place an Olympus made from earth!
Then would mankind know divinity well, and the sovereignty of it never contest,
Lest to question it would thusly be: to question even the hour of one's own birth.
And to every hand that reaches out, another reaching back like God to Adam...
Would that not be art, to stand forever in the light of understanding's kingdom!
'Upon the heights of paradise, every voice raised in song: echoes passing fair,
And every face beholds the glory that, before, had hidden from them there.'
What magic even in magic made, where Diana from her lofty place descends...
To share in the fellowship of her faithful, and join in their gatherings down here!
What glory even in glory known, in such a world: where no one so condemns...
The faith of another, for all faiths manifest would be as equal and draw all near,
To hear what truths may be learned from listening to others, and so not judging!
A first for mankind, and what dreams that it might birth would cause fair singing.
'Upon the wings of dragons, every fantasy is made a thing of beauty ever pure,
And every dreamer is rewarded, with a wisdom that is both certain and sure.'
Life as a butterfly
Change.
The ever present constant
The profound truth
of the mysterious universe
with myriad laws
All leading to
one phenomenon
Change.
All ever wanted
by him-
All his twenty summers
he wanted to change
he wanted change
living like a pupa
concealed beneath
the intricate layers
of misery and misfortune
Would he ever become
the butterfly and spread
his wings and f l y
to the nude blue
Will he undergo
successful metamorphosis
And be one-a butterfly
The name of change-
a beauteous and bounteous one
A tiny moving painting
of mother nature
A dollop of bright, transient hues
in the air
Evanescent one moment
and the very next-
motionless
sitting on a large leaf,
reminiscing
of its past life-
ruminating
A riot-A flash-A blast-A storm
Vivid-Vast-Divine
The butterfly
Mystical-elaborate-profound
God's own creature
Hope floats
hope tells
The tales being
numerous-universal-unique
His tale would be one such
A journey
A discovery
An Odyssey
Too large
Too mystical
Time tells
as curiosity swells
The life of a butterfly.
Change.
The ever present constant
The profound truth
of the mysterious universe
with myriad laws
All leading to
one phenomenon
Change.
All ever wanted
by him-
All his twenty summers
he wanted to change
he wanted change
living like a pupa
concealed beneath
the intricate layers
of misery and misfortune
Would he ever become
the butterfly and spread
his wings and f l y
to the nude blue
Will he undergo
successful metamorphosis
And be one-a butterfly
The name of change-
a beauteous and bounteous one
A tiny moving painting
of mother nature
A dollop of bright, transient hues
in the air
Evanescent one moment
and the very next-
motionless
sitting on a large leaf,
reminiscing
of its past life-
ruminating
A riot-A flash-A blast-A storm
Vivid-Vast-Divine
The butterfly
Mystical-elaborate-profound
God's own creature
Hope floats
hope tells
The tales being
numerous-universal-unique
His tale would be one such
A journey
A discovery
An Odyssey
Too large
Too mystical
Time tells
as curiosity swells
The life of a butterfly.
starstruck13 said:The Dragon in the style of William Blake The Tiger
Dragon, dragon, burning bright
in the dark forest of the night
What immortal living are dead
could see your wrath
or hear the music you played.
And what magic stone was placed in your eyes
to burn so bright day and night
What inspired you to dwell
in the starry, starry skies and in the fiery pits of hell
Who twisted barb wire around your heart
to make the flames you snort
and when your heart began to bleed
is that when you grew your black tar wings?
What dread gasp, one last breath
before you sent terror upon God's land
Did your soul scorch at Hell's gates?
Did you see the stars fall from Heaven's open door
did not all rebel against your burning Hell?
Dragon, dragon,burning bright
in the dark forest in the night....
Oh, I do love this poem you wrote! It is good to see another fan of William Blake's writings. The man was a mystic, and a true genius.
Dragon, dragon, burning bright
in the dark forest of the night
What immortal living are dead
could see your wrath
or hear the music you played.
And what magic stone was placed in your eyes
to burn so bright day and night
What inspired you to dwell
in the starry, starry skies and in the fiery pits of hell
Who twisted barb wire around your heart
to make the flames you snort
and when your heart began to bleed
is that when you grew your black tar wings?
What dread gasp, one last breath
before you sent terror upon God's land
Did your soul scorch at Hell's gates?
Did you see the stars fall from Heaven's open door
did not all rebel against your burning Hell?
Dragon, dragon,burning bright
in the dark forest in the night....
Oh, I do love this poem you wrote! It is good to see another fan of William Blake's writings. The man was a mystic, and a true genius.
This poem of mine is all about a dream of transformation.
- Vampire Dreaming -
Part I: Black Ballerina
Black mountains, upon a windswept night in august…
My heart is aflame with hunger and an insatiable lust!
The trees around me are dark, wraithlike silhouettes.
In my mind I picture a ballerina doing her pirouettes,
And my thoughts spin in circles, spiraling into infinity.
The night is intoxicating, as I surrender to it fervently!
Disciple of darkness, wanton and mad as time stills…
I walk the ancient path, excited by promises of thrills.
She is young and lovely, the seraphic image of grace:
Hair of chestnut, eyes black, and a blush to her face!
I feel the smooth skin of her thigh, beneath silk skirts.
We tumble through soft leaves, laughing until it hurts,
And when our lips meet, we move as one in shadow,
Hungry hearts, wanton minds, but spirits not shallow.
I feel her wet mouth on my neck, sharp fangs biting…
As I howl like a monster, ecstatic, maybe frightening.
Mad love of the undead amidst a starry august night,
Two demon lovers, lost beneath the ivory moonlight.
The ballerina does her dance upon that forest floor…
I spin with her through soft leaves, wanton for more.
Part II: Running Wild
We are running together across ravines full of skulls,
The moon is red as blood, our cries as loud as gulls.
Our hearts are beating like drums, thumping loudly…
Her grasp is as fierce as my own, displayed proudly.
I think that mists rise up from the dead faces below,
But it is spirits entwined like lovers, burning to glow.
I catch the scent of their fire and it fuels me ever on,
Their damnation is our elation, upon which we fawn.
Red roses bloom in empty jaws and vacant sockets,
Scarlet as blood: fiery bright as the flame of rockets!
A garden for our delight, a utopia worthy of desire…
But the drums hasten us along, as we blaze with fire.
Two riders galloping off in the distance, as we haste,
Stop not, to see the storm forming swift in our wake.
They escape, in time to hear a solitary animal growl,
Heedless of the ravine, where the dead faces scowl.
The storm urges us ever onward, into domains wild,
Thunder at our heels, our mad hearts no longer mild.
A crimson haze behind us, leaving an ethereal limbo,
Whilst we dance in the darkness: to our alien tempo.
Part III: Break of Day
I recline upon a mossy rock, watching the ballerina,
Lost in her rhythms, and my own mounting delirium.
As she dances with peacock feathers in her hands…
Time passes, like the swift rushing of so many sands.
Green and blue, the colors flash before my hot gaze,
Until I am entranced and drifting within a lusty daze!
The green is the forest; the blue is the morning skies.
Day has come, as the girl’s dance even time denies!
We rush together; hands seeking and finding flesh…
Our warmth as one, in the morning air: crisply fresh.
Madness in our kisses, desire in our very fingertips,
As we merge together, our arms, our legs and hips!
Soon we are one being, androgynous and perfect…
Seraphic in beauty and ravenous as we may reflect,
Upon the dance our feet perform, of life and death!
Then we separate, and each takes a needed breath.
Rays of sunlight cascade down upon the grim earth,
As my mind reels in turns: with a sadness and mirth.
I am walking in a dream; it is a nightmare to awake,
And hunger awaits me, of which I dare not partake.
- Vampire Dreaming -
Part I: Black Ballerina
Black mountains, upon a windswept night in august…
My heart is aflame with hunger and an insatiable lust!
The trees around me are dark, wraithlike silhouettes.
In my mind I picture a ballerina doing her pirouettes,
And my thoughts spin in circles, spiraling into infinity.
The night is intoxicating, as I surrender to it fervently!
Disciple of darkness, wanton and mad as time stills…
I walk the ancient path, excited by promises of thrills.
She is young and lovely, the seraphic image of grace:
Hair of chestnut, eyes black, and a blush to her face!
I feel the smooth skin of her thigh, beneath silk skirts.
We tumble through soft leaves, laughing until it hurts,
And when our lips meet, we move as one in shadow,
Hungry hearts, wanton minds, but spirits not shallow.
I feel her wet mouth on my neck, sharp fangs biting…
As I howl like a monster, ecstatic, maybe frightening.
Mad love of the undead amidst a starry august night,
Two demon lovers, lost beneath the ivory moonlight.
The ballerina does her dance upon that forest floor…
I spin with her through soft leaves, wanton for more.
Part II: Running Wild
We are running together across ravines full of skulls,
The moon is red as blood, our cries as loud as gulls.
Our hearts are beating like drums, thumping loudly…
Her grasp is as fierce as my own, displayed proudly.
I think that mists rise up from the dead faces below,
But it is spirits entwined like lovers, burning to glow.
I catch the scent of their fire and it fuels me ever on,
Their damnation is our elation, upon which we fawn.
Red roses bloom in empty jaws and vacant sockets,
Scarlet as blood: fiery bright as the flame of rockets!
A garden for our delight, a utopia worthy of desire…
But the drums hasten us along, as we blaze with fire.
Two riders galloping off in the distance, as we haste,
Stop not, to see the storm forming swift in our wake.
They escape, in time to hear a solitary animal growl,
Heedless of the ravine, where the dead faces scowl.
The storm urges us ever onward, into domains wild,
Thunder at our heels, our mad hearts no longer mild.
A crimson haze behind us, leaving an ethereal limbo,
Whilst we dance in the darkness: to our alien tempo.
Part III: Break of Day
I recline upon a mossy rock, watching the ballerina,
Lost in her rhythms, and my own mounting delirium.
As she dances with peacock feathers in her hands…
Time passes, like the swift rushing of so many sands.
Green and blue, the colors flash before my hot gaze,
Until I am entranced and drifting within a lusty daze!
The green is the forest; the blue is the morning skies.
Day has come, as the girl’s dance even time denies!
We rush together; hands seeking and finding flesh…
Our warmth as one, in the morning air: crisply fresh.
Madness in our kisses, desire in our very fingertips,
As we merge together, our arms, our legs and hips!
Soon we are one being, androgynous and perfect…
Seraphic in beauty and ravenous as we may reflect,
Upon the dance our feet perform, of life and death!
Then we separate, and each takes a needed breath.
Rays of sunlight cascade down upon the grim earth,
As my mind reels in turns: with a sadness and mirth.
I am walking in a dream; it is a nightmare to awake,
And hunger awaits me, of which I dare not partake.
2012 the death
Of the so called in lightened
The signs were shown
Back in the past
At last at last
My time has arrived
Each miserable day that goes by
Has shown its face
And hided at night
Drawing me closer
To my time
12-12-12
The stairs a line
With the pyramids
The moon blackens the sun
My skin sheds
My teeth have fangs
Eyes only seeing red
Claws I have now on my hand
I am like my father now
In his beautiful form
The dragon I have become
Now come my legion
From underneath the ground
Take all living beings down
As I breath my fire
To be greeted by screaming sounds
I scream aloud
"Darkness you've made me proud"
Of the so called in lightened
The signs were shown
Back in the past
At last at last
My time has arrived
Each miserable day that goes by
Has shown its face
And hided at night
Drawing me closer
To my time
12-12-12
The stairs a line
With the pyramids
The moon blackens the sun
My skin sheds
My teeth have fangs
Eyes only seeing red
Claws I have now on my hand
I am like my father now
In his beautiful form
The dragon I have become
Now come my legion
From underneath the ground
Take all living beings down
As I breath my fire
To be greeted by screaming sounds
I scream aloud
"Darkness you've made me proud"
Every hunt begins with a search
But not every hunt ends with a catch....
Ancient methodology
Brought him under study
Isolated for a dark purpose
His curse their recourse
The normal life within
Altered without remorse
Breath became fiery
Body size gigantic
Loud cries and smoke rings
Short arms and strong wings
Disoriented to love
Oriented to a battle titanic
The ugly end of his metamorphosis
Now its time to be unleashed
What'll become of the world?
What'll become of mankind?
Will this restless monster bring disaster?
Or will the maker find his mind?
Folklores from ancient tribes
Predictions from scribes
The legend arouses panic and fear
Cos from all indications
This's the year......
But not every hunt ends with a catch....
Ancient methodology
Brought him under study
Isolated for a dark purpose
His curse their recourse
The normal life within
Altered without remorse
Breath became fiery
Body size gigantic
Loud cries and smoke rings
Short arms and strong wings
Disoriented to love
Oriented to a battle titanic
The ugly end of his metamorphosis
Now its time to be unleashed
What'll become of the world?
What'll become of mankind?
Will this restless monster bring disaster?
Or will the maker find his mind?
Folklores from ancient tribes
Predictions from scribes
The legend arouses panic and fear
Cos from all indications
This's the year......
He WiTh tHe DraGon TaTToo...
i have laid dormant for years
for i am one of chaos
my voice speaks with heat
with this i am feared by most townsfolk
i speak from the Spirit
those whom choose to walk in dark
can’t bare the light my mouth breathes
those who walk upright
find my words a comforting spell
all others see my tone as fire breathing
and often hot as Hell...
i no angel
not placed here to judge
again in my own ways I walk the line
my weakness is pleasure
and it is it that I indulge
maybe a hundred years ago or so
in a certain village that fashioned beautiful women
outnumbered their counterparts likely three to one
spoiled the men rotten..
having their choice of choice..
i would scream my sounds from the mountain tops
at most of which the beautiful fell prey to my voice
for the women were upright and honest
so in my voice they heard sweet melody
the men were of a crooked nature
so they felt only heat and imagined fire when I breathed..
a few of the women who were not wed
climbed my mountain and of my treatment would practically beg
curious to know the pleasure of my pain..
for when the women travel such distance to my cave
their village would never see from them again
their screams made the people
think I was one of torture
unknown to them the pleasure each woman felt
when in the grace of my presence..
mind blowing orgies we would have
from one beauty to eleven
she on she.. me on they.. they on me
my little slice of Hell and Heaven..
till one day the men of the village became bold and increasingly mad
band together.. surrounding my grounds..
with pitchforks in hand..
it was the love I had for each woman that allowed me to leave
not killing each one’s brother.. son.. or father..
with the fire of my speech..
…………..i am that of the DRAGON………….
8^/ de Poet
i have laid dormant for years
for i am one of chaos
my voice speaks with heat
with this i am feared by most townsfolk
i speak from the Spirit
those whom choose to walk in dark
can’t bare the light my mouth breathes
those who walk upright
find my words a comforting spell
all others see my tone as fire breathing
and often hot as Hell...
i no angel
not placed here to judge
again in my own ways I walk the line
my weakness is pleasure
and it is it that I indulge
maybe a hundred years ago or so
in a certain village that fashioned beautiful women
outnumbered their counterparts likely three to one
spoiled the men rotten..
having their choice of choice..
i would scream my sounds from the mountain tops
at most of which the beautiful fell prey to my voice
for the women were upright and honest
so in my voice they heard sweet melody
the men were of a crooked nature
so they felt only heat and imagined fire when I breathed..
a few of the women who were not wed
climbed my mountain and of my treatment would practically beg
curious to know the pleasure of my pain..
for when the women travel such distance to my cave
their village would never see from them again
their screams made the people
think I was one of torture
unknown to them the pleasure each woman felt
when in the grace of my presence..
mind blowing orgies we would have
from one beauty to eleven
she on she.. me on they.. they on me
my little slice of Hell and Heaven..
till one day the men of the village became bold and increasingly mad
band together.. surrounding my grounds..
with pitchforks in hand..
it was the love I had for each woman that allowed me to leave
not killing each one’s brother.. son.. or father..
with the fire of my speech..
…………..i am that of the DRAGON………….
8^/ de Poet
Anonymous
THE CHINESE YEAR OF THE DRAGON 2012
The dragon is a karmic animal - you will get what you give
Celebrate with firecrackers, cymbals, temple bells and pleasurable noises
The dragon is smart, healthy and wise - put dragon figurines all over your house
Celebrate with dragons going through the streets - dancing and waving
This year of the dragon is the year of water - use fishes, octopii, sea stars as gifts
Celebrate with fireworks in the skies - use the colors red and gold
Black water dragon brings happiness and success - may your life fill with good
Celebrate by having fun, friendship and laughter - make a happy time
We are advised to be BOLD, not humble - because the DRAGON is HIGH and POWERFUL
The dragon is a karmic animal - you will get what you give
Celebrate with firecrackers, cymbals, temple bells and pleasurable noises
The dragon is smart, healthy and wise - put dragon figurines all over your house
Celebrate with dragons going through the streets - dancing and waving
This year of the dragon is the year of water - use fishes, octopii, sea stars as gifts
Celebrate with fireworks in the skies - use the colors red and gold
Black water dragon brings happiness and success - may your life fill with good
Celebrate by having fun, friendship and laughter - make a happy time
We are advised to be BOLD, not humble - because the DRAGON is HIGH and POWERFUL
fireworks explode to a big bang
cymbals and temple bells will ring.
the dragon parade heads threw the streets
Chinese new years of joy and treats.
fireworks explode in in the skies,
creating light in everyone eyes.
celebration of dragon is all we hear,
beautiful song of Chinese new year.
so many years the dragon will own.
to come generations apone her throne
cymbals and temple bells will ring.
the dragon parade heads threw the streets
Chinese new years of joy and treats.
fireworks explode in in the skies,
creating light in everyone eyes.
celebration of dragon is all we hear,
beautiful song of Chinese new year.
so many years the dragon will own.
to come generations apone her throne
a sparrow flies from east to west
a journey now complete
a tale he has to tell
with a dragon he has to meet
he lands upon a skeleton head
high upon a tree
"dragon of old please listen to me!"
they come for you, please come see"
a smell of smoke chokes the sparrow
as the dragon rises to speak
who comes for me sparrow, who walks my path?"
is it men so fragile and weak?"
the sparrow now flying round and round
whistles as loud as he can
"yes old dragon they come for you"
"a war is what they plan"
soon the tree of old
cracks and breaks in two
"fly away sparrow to see your chicks"
your life i have given to you"
slowly rising up from forest floor
old dragon starts to shout
"come men so weak and show yourself"
this my forest i want you out"
claws dig in between bones of child
wings sretch out wide
as dragon takes flight into the night
"men you better run and hide"
in a valley not far from town
men gather in armour of gold
with sword and shields blessed by church
told to be brave,be bold
a growl is heard as the dragon descends
flies over their heads
dragon of old so big and so strong
make these men wish for their beds
flames shout out from the dragons mouth
scorches the earth pitch black
men scatter and run and hide all around
"retreat we cannot attack"
claws rip and shred and teeth grind at bone
as old dragon goes to work
"this will teach you not to wander"
"where an old dragon lurks"
screams and shouts echo afar
as old dragon devours them all
but wait a lonely old monk standing one side
shouts " old dragon today you will fall"
old dragon turns to heed the call
from the monk so old and so grey
spreading his wings for all to see
he shouts"monk you must start to pray"
the monk shuffles backwards and opens a book
his toes curling around
he mumbles his words so softly he speaks
a spell he now has found
his lips tremble as old dragon decends
trevalis agor devilis gore
old dragon opens his mouth, his teeth touch hair
old dragon you be no more!"
with a shake of the earth old dragon implodes
his pieces fall far and wide
the old monk shuffles and mumbles again
come men no need to hide"
a journey now complete
a tale he has to tell
with a dragon he has to meet
he lands upon a skeleton head
high upon a tree
"dragon of old please listen to me!"
they come for you, please come see"
a smell of smoke chokes the sparrow
as the dragon rises to speak
who comes for me sparrow, who walks my path?"
is it men so fragile and weak?"
the sparrow now flying round and round
whistles as loud as he can
"yes old dragon they come for you"
"a war is what they plan"
soon the tree of old
cracks and breaks in two
"fly away sparrow to see your chicks"
your life i have given to you"
slowly rising up from forest floor
old dragon starts to shout
"come men so weak and show yourself"
this my forest i want you out"
claws dig in between bones of child
wings sretch out wide
as dragon takes flight into the night
"men you better run and hide"
in a valley not far from town
men gather in armour of gold
with sword and shields blessed by church
told to be brave,be bold
a growl is heard as the dragon descends
flies over their heads
dragon of old so big and so strong
make these men wish for their beds
flames shout out from the dragons mouth
scorches the earth pitch black
men scatter and run and hide all around
"retreat we cannot attack"
claws rip and shred and teeth grind at bone
as old dragon goes to work
"this will teach you not to wander"
"where an old dragon lurks"
screams and shouts echo afar
as old dragon devours them all
but wait a lonely old monk standing one side
shouts " old dragon today you will fall"
old dragon turns to heed the call
from the monk so old and so grey
spreading his wings for all to see
he shouts"monk you must start to pray"
the monk shuffles backwards and opens a book
his toes curling around
he mumbles his words so softly he speaks
a spell he now has found
his lips tremble as old dragon decends
trevalis agor devilis gore
old dragon opens his mouth, his teeth touch hair
old dragon you be no more!"
with a shake of the earth old dragon implodes
his pieces fall far and wide
the old monk shuffles and mumbles again
come men no need to hide"
