Poetry competition CLOSED 22nd July 2013 5:17pm
WINNER
LobodeSanPedro
LobodeSanPedro
RUNNER-UP:
EngrVV
THE OLD GODS ARISE
Cerberus
God, I hate being Hell's Dog walker
The freakin' beast has three heads
Which, by the way, have one hell of a bite
After so many bites, I hate being undead
Hey, Hades, would it kill you to play some fetch?
The big guy here needs some attention from his master
And I for one could use a long break
Could the end of eternity get here any faster?
He has my arms again and my leg
How the fuck to you train this thing?
But, then again, if you have an enemy
Rover here is a good dog to bring
So, in closing, pay attention to your pet
Because if I get slobbered on one more time
I'm gone, fuck the cool house and car
The job here isn't worth a dime
God, I hate being Hell's Dog walker
The freakin' beast has three heads
Which, by the way, have one hell of a bite
After so many bites, I hate being undead
Hey, Hades, would it kill you to play some fetch?
The big guy here needs some attention from his master
And I for one could use a long break
Could the end of eternity get here any faster?
He has my arms again and my leg
How the fuck to you train this thing?
But, then again, if you have an enemy
Rover here is a good dog to bring
So, in closing, pay attention to your pet
Because if I get slobbered on one more time
I'm gone, fuck the cool house and car
The job here isn't worth a dime
An Ancient god’s Fury
Told I this in tales of yore
The mortal daughter of Irra
Existing in Akkadian fields
Was set upon by villains
Torn and struck she laid supine
Silent screams of spilled blood
Reached her father in slumber
With his consort Mami
Roar his rank upon the sky
Screams of righteous rage
Ripped the tormented firmament
Swirled in grey the tapestry
Of life within the glory
of created existence
trembled and pulse
in terrified horror
Irra in fury rode again
God of all gods of pestilence
With his seven generals
Sought he hard the men
who shattered his child
his beloved only mortal child
the slayers shall be hounded
without sanctuary
Upon the land of the wicked men
he ran his legions close to earth
fire from swords forged
with sulphur and brimstone
coldness from the wells
of hunger and hunger
he seeded and sowed the land
relentless in his rage
His screams of anger
Thundered in the sky
His relentless fury
Birth cracking lightning
The sea trembled and tossed
The land cracked and rumbled
Nothing was left standing
Irra’s fury was complete
Until at last the Eastern Prince
Calmed the land with His Love
His promises and Atonement
To give His Life for the sins
Of man who killed
And plundered
Without shame
Turbulence rested.
Told I this in tales of yore
The mortal daughter of Irra
Existing in Akkadian fields
Was set upon by villains
Torn and struck she laid supine
Silent screams of spilled blood
Reached her father in slumber
With his consort Mami
Roar his rank upon the sky
Screams of righteous rage
Ripped the tormented firmament
Swirled in grey the tapestry
Of life within the glory
of created existence
trembled and pulse
in terrified horror
Irra in fury rode again
God of all gods of pestilence
With his seven generals
Sought he hard the men
who shattered his child
his beloved only mortal child
the slayers shall be hounded
without sanctuary
Upon the land of the wicked men
he ran his legions close to earth
fire from swords forged
with sulphur and brimstone
coldness from the wells
of hunger and hunger
he seeded and sowed the land
relentless in his rage
His screams of anger
Thundered in the sky
His relentless fury
Birth cracking lightning
The sea trembled and tossed
The land cracked and rumbled
Nothing was left standing
Irra’s fury was complete
Until at last the Eastern Prince
Calmed the land with His Love
His promises and Atonement
To give His Life for the sins
Of man who killed
And plundered
Without shame
Turbulence rested.
Aphrodite and Hephaestus
**************************
Her hair, like moon spun gold,
dancing in the clouds of love and lust.
She is the supple innocence you will never hold,
but the whispers of empty promises you can't help but trust.
Her eyes of liquid fire,
her breasts are the work of perfection,
her lips incite furious desire,
and her face, there is no better reflection.
But how fickle she is,
this beauty unparalleled,
for her husband cannot hold her,
and her insatiable lusts can't seem to be quelled.
So he builds this web of fibers unbreakable,
He catches her in her lovers embrace,
his fury is hot and his revenge unshakable,
the song of war and fire is the music she must face.
**************************
Her hair, like moon spun gold,
dancing in the clouds of love and lust.
She is the supple innocence you will never hold,
but the whispers of empty promises you can't help but trust.
Her eyes of liquid fire,
her breasts are the work of perfection,
her lips incite furious desire,
and her face, there is no better reflection.
But how fickle she is,
this beauty unparalleled,
for her husband cannot hold her,
and her insatiable lusts can't seem to be quelled.
So he builds this web of fibers unbreakable,
He catches her in her lovers embrace,
his fury is hot and his revenge unshakable,
the song of war and fire is the music she must face.
Creatures of the Unknown: Folklore Monsters
Many, many years ago, from a distant land
I called island paradise - where traditions,
and superstitious beliefs are deeply rooted;
Kids like me are often exposed
to the realm of myth, fairy tales and magic
handed down from one generation
to another by word of mouth...
Join me in this journey,
but let me warn you:
This is not for the faint of heart!
To understand and see clearly
what you're going to embark on,
Hypnotic trance--will open the portals
to this parallel dimension--
still invisible, to most of us.
The first one is Kapre: an ugly looking horse-like creature
smoking a cigar perched on top
of a huge century-old balete tree,
guardian of the treasures--
buried under that old tree...
"Never go near the balete tree," warned the elders.
"For if you do, you're going to get lost,
and may never find your way back.
Expose yourself to the elements,
then wear your shirt inside-out;
That will cast away the magic spell
that befall unto you, and set you free--
otherwise, you will be eaten alive
without traces of you left behind,
not even a shadow of your carcass."
I never believe this horse shit
until the day I saw a cloud of smoke
coming from the top of that huge
century-old balete tree,
and heard that peculiar,
but familiar sound:
whinny, loud and high pitched--
sounds like a horse to me.
Then, there's this beautiful maiden
we call her Aswang: lives alone in the woods
far from the prying eyes of the townsfolk.
Her face, angelic - a perfect mask
for her evil ways,
and her black, long flowing hair
kisses the ground
showing respect
for Mother Earth.
During the day,
she would chant for hours
while taking a long bath:
fully naked,
enticing passers-by
in a nearby waterfall.
At stroke of midnight,
she would apply magic oil
all over her body;
then she would fly away with bat-like wings
leaving her torso behind;
She likes to feast on unborn babies -
still inside their mothers' wombs,
by sticking out her tongue
from the rooftops of houses
where expectant mothers live.
I never believed this horse shit
until the day my mother told me;
she was bitten by one of these creatures
when I was still in her womb.
Luckily, I survived to tell this tale,
and the Aswang did not,
for my old grandpa killed her
using his own white magic
and "arnis de mano" skills
with "kamagong stick."
This folklore may not be wild after all
and not just a product of our fantasy,
for if you have a chance to drop by
to our beloved island paradise;
the birds will sing you a lullaby,
until you sleep...
without saying good-bye!
Many, many years ago, from a distant land
I called island paradise - where traditions,
and superstitious beliefs are deeply rooted;
Kids like me are often exposed
to the realm of myth, fairy tales and magic
handed down from one generation
to another by word of mouth...
Join me in this journey,
but let me warn you:
This is not for the faint of heart!
To understand and see clearly
what you're going to embark on,
Hypnotic trance--will open the portals
to this parallel dimension--
still invisible, to most of us.
The first one is Kapre: an ugly looking horse-like creature
smoking a cigar perched on top
of a huge century-old balete tree,
guardian of the treasures--
buried under that old tree...
"Never go near the balete tree," warned the elders.
"For if you do, you're going to get lost,
and may never find your way back.
Expose yourself to the elements,
then wear your shirt inside-out;
That will cast away the magic spell
that befall unto you, and set you free--
otherwise, you will be eaten alive
without traces of you left behind,
not even a shadow of your carcass."
I never believe this horse shit
until the day I saw a cloud of smoke
coming from the top of that huge
century-old balete tree,
and heard that peculiar,
but familiar sound:
whinny, loud and high pitched--
sounds like a horse to me.
Then, there's this beautiful maiden
we call her Aswang: lives alone in the woods
far from the prying eyes of the townsfolk.
Her face, angelic - a perfect mask
for her evil ways,
and her black, long flowing hair
kisses the ground
showing respect
for Mother Earth.
During the day,
she would chant for hours
while taking a long bath:
fully naked,
enticing passers-by
in a nearby waterfall.
At stroke of midnight,
she would apply magic oil
all over her body;
then she would fly away with bat-like wings
leaving her torso behind;
She likes to feast on unborn babies -
still inside their mothers' wombs,
by sticking out her tongue
from the rooftops of houses
where expectant mothers live.
I never believed this horse shit
until the day my mother told me;
she was bitten by one of these creatures
when I was still in her womb.
Luckily, I survived to tell this tale,
and the Aswang did not,
for my old grandpa killed her
using his own white magic
and "arnis de mano" skills
with "kamagong stick."
This folklore may not be wild after all
and not just a product of our fantasy,
for if you have a chance to drop by
to our beloved island paradise;
the birds will sing you a lullaby,
until you sleep...
without saying good-bye!
The Tired Succubus
It gets tiring
To slip into yet another person’s dream
And change it,
turn their thoughts from
Pleasant dreams, of work and wives
And corrupt it; have them worship
And prostrate at my feet
Enamored by a beauty
That is a dirty illusion.
I am exhausted at returning
Night after night and feel
Their passions for me grow stronger
While their bodies
Waste away into nothing.
So consumed are they in
Having me, holding me, screwing me.
If they could see what
Real face their beloved holds
Well, I know they wouldn’t be all that impressed
It’s an old truth, an accepted one
But one that is still hard to deal with,
Even after centuries have passed.
The truth that I am the cause of this waste
A horror that mothers scare
Their young sons with,
The truly frightening part is,
I cannot and will not
Stop until a trail littered in red
And erections
Lies stretched out behind me
It gets tiring
To slip into yet another person’s dream
And change it,
turn their thoughts from
Pleasant dreams, of work and wives
And corrupt it; have them worship
And prostrate at my feet
Enamored by a beauty
That is a dirty illusion.
I am exhausted at returning
Night after night and feel
Their passions for me grow stronger
While their bodies
Waste away into nothing.
So consumed are they in
Having me, holding me, screwing me.
If they could see what
Real face their beloved holds
Well, I know they wouldn’t be all that impressed
It’s an old truth, an accepted one
But one that is still hard to deal with,
Even after centuries have passed.
The truth that I am the cause of this waste
A horror that mothers scare
Their young sons with,
The truly frightening part is,
I cannot and will not
Stop until a trail littered in red
And erections
Lies stretched out behind me
http://0.tqn.com/d/ancienthistory/1/0/Q/N/cyclops_Odysseus.jpg
Diary of the Cyclops, the One-Eyed Wonders
(A Warning for All)
You know who I am because my kind and I have ruled, haunted,
And conquered nations for over two millennia
The very weapons that defeated the Titans were gifts from me
I gave Zeus his Thunderbolt
Hades his Helmet of Invisibility
And Poseidon his Trident
I am the reason nymphs scream
My very existence is rooted in life and selfish pleasure itself,
consumption and devastation
I'm inbred and perpetuated through myths, lies and hard truths
Virtue is surrendered too willingly and when it's not, it's simply taken
I devour the flesh of harlot and virgin alike
While my preference is the taste of sweet maidens,
Hardened men and cherubs are all consumed in my quest of flesh
So know this,
The next time you're thrusting about in a bed
Or up against a wall
Whether by force or forbidden lust
Or you've relented in loveless routine
Understand you've succumbed to the beast that is me
The one-eyed monster
I've pierced you now
Your flesh
Your soul
Your heart
With disease
Carnivorous rage
And blood letting
So once again you've been warned
Yet you will surrender, as you always have
And always will
Diary of the Cyclops, the One-Eyed Wonders
(A Warning for All)
You know who I am because my kind and I have ruled, haunted,
And conquered nations for over two millennia
The very weapons that defeated the Titans were gifts from me
I gave Zeus his Thunderbolt
Hades his Helmet of Invisibility
And Poseidon his Trident
I am the reason nymphs scream
My very existence is rooted in life and selfish pleasure itself,
consumption and devastation
I'm inbred and perpetuated through myths, lies and hard truths
Virtue is surrendered too willingly and when it's not, it's simply taken
I devour the flesh of harlot and virgin alike
While my preference is the taste of sweet maidens,
Hardened men and cherubs are all consumed in my quest of flesh
So know this,
The next time you're thrusting about in a bed
Or up against a wall
Whether by force or forbidden lust
Or you've relented in loveless routine
Understand you've succumbed to the beast that is me
The one-eyed monster
I've pierced you now
Your flesh
Your soul
Your heart
With disease
Carnivorous rage
And blood letting
So once again you've been warned
Yet you will surrender, as you always have
And always will
Pantheon Dreams
Ares lives in Watts' core,
I was born on Mars' hot shores.
It became more than pantheon dreams
to be from a city made from scars.
At the end of the hall drinking hope,
running wild beneath my palms.
Olympus' boulevards don't resemble ours;
drugs and guns outnumber us
as we ponder Zeus' rough love.
Hera, can you hear our screams?
Made of hope, extreme schemes galore,
curse the world for leading us ashore.
Listen to the violent
blocks whisper my name,
as it resembles Athena's pores.
In full glory armored for life,
valor by force, raised by destruction,
nothing is supposed of course.
Bring me my chariot, I'm ready to score,
savage society woes, neighborhood wars,
but never doubt our successful odor.
Running behind a triumphant colony,
we're facing humiliation without a goddess.
Oh love, save us from the hate of men,
It’s past ten and the darkness fears our names
Aphrodite loves us, Aphrodite loves us not.
Ares lives in Watts' core,
I was born on Mars' hot shores.
It became more than pantheon dreams
to be from a city made from scars.
At the end of the hall drinking hope,
running wild beneath my palms.
Olympus' boulevards don't resemble ours;
drugs and guns outnumber us
as we ponder Zeus' rough love.
Hera, can you hear our screams?
Made of hope, extreme schemes galore,
curse the world for leading us ashore.
Listen to the violent
blocks whisper my name,
as it resembles Athena's pores.
In full glory armored for life,
valor by force, raised by destruction,
nothing is supposed of course.
Bring me my chariot, I'm ready to score,
savage society woes, neighborhood wars,
but never doubt our successful odor.
Running behind a triumphant colony,
we're facing humiliation without a goddess.
Oh love, save us from the hate of men,
It’s past ten and the darkness fears our names
Aphrodite loves us, Aphrodite loves us not.
Anonymous
Lament on Nessie
Buried deep in myth and mists
hidden under deceptive depths
stirring the magical hopes of men
Nessie reveals nothing more, or less
simply reflects the mystery craved
snaky in her medieval charm
elusive to all but those who believe
through the loch and over time
the legend lives without reprieve
the prehistoric image still calls
across the hills and over lands
no matter the proof or lack thereof
The Loch Ness Monster legend stands
dispersed to the Olympus
of beasts that may be
with Sasquatch, the Chupa cabra
Yetti
set free
Buried deep in myth and mists
hidden under deceptive depths
stirring the magical hopes of men
Nessie reveals nothing more, or less
simply reflects the mystery craved
snaky in her medieval charm
elusive to all but those who believe
through the loch and over time
the legend lives without reprieve
the prehistoric image still calls
across the hills and over lands
no matter the proof or lack thereof
The Loch Ness Monster legend stands
dispersed to the Olympus
of beasts that may be
with Sasquatch, the Chupa cabra
Yetti
set free
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
Thanks for hosting HadesRising ... I must admit I've been having fun playing on the dark side ... (I'm even thinking of revisiting that clown scribe to make it darker 
...
Cheers to Poetic Engr - mikimoondancer and all who participated
LSP
... Cheers to Poetic Engr - mikimoondancer and all who participated
LSP
Congratulations LSP and Miki...CHEERS to everyone! Thank you HadesRising for this challenging competition, I had the chance to tell what scared us the most when we were young,and to put into context what was usually verbally told.
