MYTHICAL CREATURES

INSTRUCTIONS:

1. you may submit UP TO 3 OLD or NEW poems

2. each poem should be about 1 mythical or legendary creatures...the 3 submitted poems must be very different

3. any genre

4. any length

5. please ask for CLARIFICATION should I have FAILED
to PROVIDE all essential instructions...post or email me....


http://www.mythicalcreatureslist.com/

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_legendary_creatures

http://mythicalarchive.com/

THE SERPENT KING

Born deep inside the magma of the fiery mountain
With lava bursting forth like a fountain.
Stirs the great wyrm.
The world of man will burn,
By the bane of the man, Soloman.

Soloman, The Godly King of the highest Orders
Protecting every realm and borders.
His shiny boots on the floor,
He holds forth the mighty sword,
To repel all beast and boarders.

What will happen,
When legend meets beast?
Who will bring victory
And who will be the feast?


Roarax, The Bane of man, fills the sky
Upon the sky’s winds he will glide.
His mighty tail lashes
And he leaves men in ashes.
He is the beast to end the times.

The armies amass to protect their lands
As far as can see are forces of man.
Their mail shines bright
On the armies of light.
Their victory is foretold to be grand.

The forces of light take the field
Baring aloft The God King’s seal.
Eagerly searching the skies
With their shields held high.
Until dragon wings beat like thunder
Man becomes prey, beast the hunter.
Mouth flickers fire, eyes are so stern
Lo, here comes the beast,
     The conquering wyrm.


Roarax, with a gout of fire, laying waste
Or simply just stomping men to paste.
Men, they prey to their King
But even he feels the sting.
This is all, but a taste.

The God King falls to Roarax’s fell breath
His body decays until nothings left.
Men fall to their knees,
Begging Roarax with pleas.
They will worship him until their deaths.


Roarax takes his place upon his throne;
A mountain made of shattered bones.
Lording over earth and sky
Until the day that time is nigh.
Emblems blaze with wing and flame
So that all will remember his name.
Roarax, The Serpent King,  with eyes that burn.
Lo, here is the beast,
     The corruptible wyrm.



IN THE FOREST OF FROLICKING AND FUCKING


Deep in the forests of Pan are secrets of nightly pleasures,
     Lullabies of secret orgies.
God of the goat, pins you by the throat, gagging every night
     On hairy goat phallus.
These are the origins of the Great God Pan’s stories.

Divine goddesses and horny satyrs dancing to the tunes
     Whispering from Pan’s flute.
Teaching lessons of debauchery to those willing to
     Learn orgasmic lures,
To lay down in moonlit pastures where juices stir.

Old tales of pagan rites performed under the winking
     Stars, pin points of light.
Are Gods peering through the peephole at acts of
     Splendors unknown to them.
Sodomies in the forest of frolicking and fucking.

On Olympus there never has been a party such as this,
     Animal conjoining with man.
Demigod unleashing his Kraken inside the nymphs
     That grasp and gasp at the roots.
Magic of vampiric nature sucking away.

Thus is the magic of Pan, the horny old goat beneath
     The gaze of the Gods.
Unbound pleasure is nature’s way of procreating
     The old world.
Satyrs and Sirens in the forest of frolicking and fucking.

HADESRISING - thank you so very much for starting the competition!
Kitty

I'll be coming back for this!

ICE AGE


As white plains cover our sights and horizon
To horizon is covered in fertile flakes of snow...
The lines in the skies we follow
As the skies are our limitless land

Here, we know not of time nor of space
Here ,we know of only this, only this place
Great is our journey and fierce our sight
We,lost warriors, traveling towards daylight

Ice
Our eyes
Water
And air
Nearly there


Imprinted, our footprints now stand
As a landmark in time, a signpost to follow
Here, there is no sound but hollow
Ever lasing echoing crack of snow

We, united by forces of the fair and the wise
Shall now persist our sacrifice
let sapphire secrets crystalize
The hidden paths of truth

Ice
Our eyes
Water
And air
Nearly there

Let essential knowing
Fall as drops in the overflowing
Pool of carnation
Face now the vital vibration

That feeds the land of white walkers
We, the polar bears, time walkers
Born from you, I have midwinter on my skin
Strength given my source within

And man is of no matter
And man is of no meaning
Our charcoal eyes
Look through
You

And within the spheres of creation
The wheel of time spins slow
To be one with silence
(to know)

Ice
Our eyes
Water
And air
Nearly there  

(inspired by the Scandinavian mythological worlds)

Visit to the Fairy Hall
Kathleen was a girl
No more than sixteen,
And lived in a town
On a hilltop of green

With a sense of adventure
So grand and immense,
She’d explore darkened corners
At her duty’s expense.

There was one old place
Off limits to her;
The shadowed black forest
Made up of dark firs.

The reason for fear
She only could guess,
But Kathleen, she had plans
For the rules she’d transgress.

One night in the dark
Well after two,
She crept from the house,
To the woodlands she flew.

Once she did stand
At the base of the wood,
She smiled a big grin
And pulled up her hood.

Through the trees she did venture
Almost never with fear,
Though at times she did feel
As if someone were near.

When fatigue had sunk in
And she became weary,
She came to a glade
And saw something eerie.

A circle did stand
In the midst of the glade
Made up of mushrooms
Through she wasn’t afraid.

In fact, she ran over
Not a care in her head
To look a bit closer, and
In the circle, she tread.

In that moment the air
Grew cool and intense
Our hero looked up
And went on the defence

Beside her a man
With the handsomest brow
And his dark eyes caressed her
As he gave her a bow

Her fear, it lessened,
Then just slipped away
As if his mere presence
Would keep it at bay.

He held out his hand,
But no words did he speak
Then she moved to his side
Without even a squeak.

He walked them on over
To the front of a tree
Where he tapped it to open
And stairs she did see!

The stairs they led down,
To where was a guess,
Though danger screamed at her
She went down with success    

The stairs, they were twisted
And a little too small
But once they were down
They arrived in a hall

The hall, it was stunning
And giant in size
Nothing was as beautiful
As that room through her eyes

And the people! So graceful
With a beauty of wonders
Who moved with the lithe
Of marvellous dancers.
The clothes they wore,
So enchanting and free
Like the one woman’s dress
That seemed made from the sea!

With her mind in a haze
And unable to think
The man brought her over
To the table to drink.

The table stretched out
From one end to the next,
But something was off
And it had her perplexed

The table was groaning
With trays of delights
But a feeling inside
Screamed it wasn’t alright

Yet despite her strong feelings
To be safe and wary
Her hand reached on out
To pick up a berry

She gazed at that berry
And willed it away
But through a force still unknown
To her mouth it did stray

As soon as the juices
Reached up to her head
The haze lifted from her
And she filled up with dread

The sites she had seen
Were false and untrue
With their food now inside her
She finally knew.

The people were fey,
And cruel ones at that
Who stole away people
And kept them as rats

With her eyes seeing clearly
She was able to find
That not one did look human
All of twisted design

The woman whose dress
Looked of the seas
Has scales running up
From her feet to her knees

Another had antlers
Sprouting up from his face
And others left trails
Of blood in their place

Finally, that man
Who appeared in a guise
Stared down on our hero
With soulless black eyes

Kathleen, she bolted,
Made a run for the door
Where she pounded against it
And let out a roar

She did not wish to be trapped
In this terrifying room
For they wouldn’t release her
Til it was her tomb

The door would not budge
Not for cries or harsh screams
But Kathleen kept on pounding
Tears rolling in streams…

They say she’s still there
Down in the fey courts,
Serving platters of berries
To the queen and her consorts.

But once every year
When the moon is brand new,
She comes to the surface
You can see her, its true!

But there is only one place
She’s seen I’m afraid,
And that’s in the circle
Of that ill-fated glade.

The mortal realm is forbidden
For the fey, but as well,
For any who have fallen
Under a fey magic spell.

So to come up above
She is forced to remain
In that wretched fey circle
Til she goes down again

Tis a hated existence
That young Kathleen leads
And she yearns for the day
When she will be freed

Though when that will be
Well, no one can tell
For now, she is trapped
In a gilded fey cell.

glamorous

I wish I could say I glittered in the sun
I wish I could say I thrived off of the mere essence of a soul
I wish I could say that im in love with an awkward white girl in the middle
of a godforsaken town
I wish i could say i have washboard abs and a cool tattoo
or that when people look into my eyes they are hypnotized
or even mesmerized by my voice
i wish i could say that i was something glamorous

but i cant

i am a forty something
over weight zombie
i eat brains
i moan
i shamble places
my limbs fall off for gods sake!
im a pathetic excuse for a monster

i want to be something more glamorous

These are all great...keep em coming.....

               

BIRTH OF THE LIZARD QUEEN


For many years I dwelled in the corpseless sea
Out of the scum of the crashing waves
From the web spun of moonlight
From the charcoal black skies
After roaring thunder
Blown by wind
Lulling leaves
Awake

Born
From sleeping
Transformed from snakeskin
Peeled off by the silver sun light
That dances on the water, shed from
Rain fallen from rainbow colored evenings
My journey escapes me, as I burn the last candle
From its reflecting flame, comes a shapened shade
Lizard Queen, brought forth from the breathing dust of dreams

(Birth of the lizard queen, a saga

Are cryptids okay?

fiveamtuesday said:Are cryptids okay?

yes!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cryptid

looking forward to your poem

Tired Succubus

It gets tiring
To slip into yet another person’s dream
And change it, turn their thoughts from
Where they truly belong
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.
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 decades 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
Lies stretched out behind me
 
Some would say that every body is
Simply another blood stain
On my soul
Though I have my doubts that there
Is a soul left to stain at all.