Deities and Demigods Vain and Vengeful

http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Xb_7ZlLmotk/T-KRIx684LI/AAAAAAAAG0U/4RwIP4DLnIo/s1600/AngelsDemons.jpg

many myths feature beings that are better than us, and they know it, when some dumb smuck challenges their greatness that are often punished severely. Give me a grand poem about this subject.

TWO WEEKS

ONE POEM PER POET

NEW POEMS ONLY

AT LEAST 100 WORDS

RHYME IT

The Company of Gods

Who’d want to keep the company of gods?
They’re vain, ill-tempered, selfish and unfair;
In any game they’ll always rig the odds.
They never lose, they don’t know how to share.
The Greek lot never played by any rules,
Zeus lied and cheated, threw his weight about,
Sated his lust, treated men like fools,
Devoid of pity, conscience or self-doubt.
But would the Bible’s God be to your taste?
Can you imagine having Him round to dinner?
Vindictive, vengeful, always laying waste,
And it’s hell for ever for the poor, weak sinner.
No, gods, I think, should entertain themselves,
Along with monsters, fairies, gnomes and elves.

  Hey buddy, am out now, seen this one man, noticed that it did not specify if it must be humans, in this... The Gods and Titans challenged each other, received perhaps the worst punishment of all, for their betrayal... Would that work, The Gods an Titans among themselves?

Yeah, brother. Glad to see you're back

He came to me a frown etched on his face,
I knew right then I was about to be put in my place.
This creature can kill me in way I have yet to comprehend,
I begged that hell is where he will ultimately send.

I broke his laws and ripped up his holy book,
I shrink so small now under his terrifying look.
His booming voice surrounds as he begins to speak,
"You humans just can't seem to get it right you all are too weak."

"Failure embraces you, you are frail and easy to break,
I could easily smite you where you stand your life is mine to take."
He grew taller right before my wide and terror filled eyes,
There was nothing that I could say he could tell if I was to lie.

I closed my eyes and began to pray to What I do not know,
It would not help me now that was clear to show.
He laughed with a harsh tone real loud,
And when he ripped me skin from bone he did it with a bow.

nice

Vanity's Vengeance:

a beginner god's guide
to a comicbook mind,
an simpleton's ride
to abstraction divine:

~phantasia in profundum
in gente tenebrarum
pro illusionem ~

verba te existimo in non
possum ferre centum....

ah, the angels & demons
      at play
      this way
      to'day !
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I don't follow rules but this is my entry.

I am Pan

I have every deviation know to man.
That's because I'm everyone...
I am Pan.
Odd, sick and twisted am I.
I've done it all and can never die.
Yes, I may look like just anyone
But really...I am the Horned one.
Desires fill me without end,
strong enough to reality bend.
So you think you know me?
No, you don't... You cannot see
the lustful Devil inside of me.

good one

"Attila The Hun"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DuD5QydQxZA

If I could humor myself to believe that sitting on one shoulder—
would be the spirit of Gandhi...Then sitting on the other—
would be some kind of monster...
Barbaric, like Attila The Hun and Godzilla...IN ONE!  
The definition of militant in skill of the tongue,  
Pillaging whole villages, villainous scum,  
Dumb guerrilla...get rid of him, or give him a gun,  
God, forgive him...disease is a key component,  
It feeds a greed for opponents, and needed to keep focused,  
I know you’ve seen it—I walk these streets like I own 'em,  
And don't even need a reason to BRING IN KINGS AND DETHRONE THEM!..  
It's not grand-standing if I'm a promise of quality,  
The only madman who can give a god a lobotomy...  
I'm an anomaly...living to tell a tale—  
about giving Hell a democracy; spinning compelling prophecies...  
That split seas, lift Jesus, and reach well into odysseys,  
I’ve gotta be God, if not…it seems wrong,  
‘Cause how can I be five-foot-nine…and KING KONG?  
A righteous leprosy…I could never be trusted,  
Hybrid of everything—that could NEVER BE FUCKED WITH,  
Life is a legacy…mine would never be done with,  
'Cause right from pregnancy—I was meant to be judgement,  
I’m the reckoning…THY SECOND COMING IS GUNSHIPS!  
I was inevitable…there's no tolerating wack shit,  
I’m just incredible—out there depopulating has-beens,  
Pack your shit, or back it up—either way, I'll bury you,  
That passive shit ain't stacking up…Jesus came to carry you—  
away from here...anywhere away from here—  
except there's no escape from fear...  
They're gonna build me a throne when I'm done...
from the bones of conquered opponents,
Can’t be killed by drone, snub-nose, monsters or cobras…  
You’re gonna need a double-dose of stronger explosives!
You ain't got what it takes...verse for verse, I will murder you!  
I am New London, motherfucker...The Unmerciful.
 
Copyright © 2014 Travis J Gibbs, The Ant1-Her0 Project

Your Superior

How is it my fault for wanting to tear you apart
with sticks and anything that makes the heart stop?
Allow me to introduce you to the other side of I,
thoughts of you burried in ice, thaw state of mind
fade to black, how faithful is that?
Gruesome and illustrious the way I punish rats,
I feel lively and maddening, outrageous screams
I want you dead! I hope you excuse my grin,
how unthinkable for you to keep your spleen,
I'm terrific, you know what I mean.
How can it be murder to kill a roach?
Throw you in the fire for demons to poke
glass jaw you're my laborer and human chair
your life I cannot spare, spare me your tears
throw you against a wall full of fine edged spears.
Want to play little worm? Little brain that never grows,
how can you win? You're futuristically broken.
You challenge me? I will macabre your colon,
sassy and thirsty, I will fold your false sense of importance
kneel and accept me for your great leader and live,
doubt me and I promise to never forgive,
examine yourself at the door before speaking to I,
make you fly through the sky with a screw in your eye,
analyze this, analyze that, I'm your superior, never forget that!

http://dailywicca.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/necromancer1.jpg
Tales of the Dark Gods:
Ancient Storms

Witness how heavens align, the stars do not deceive
Ancient storms come, forward toward sealed off kingdoms
Revealing what lay hidden, the dark side of nature,
Far beyond the farmers eye of crop and cattle tending,
aes sídhe walk among now this time year,
I must learn, I will learn of their ways,
the other world walkers, land of the dead, and these lands, they are masters
Long years have I waited for this ancient storm to bring forth this time for the crossing
Anál nathrach, orth’ bháis’s bethad, power of the serpent,
Anál nathrach, orth’ bháis’s bethad, power over life and death, speak thy charm SPEAK
Anál nathrach, orth’ bháis’s bethad, Words chanted Thrice command thee OPEN
The shadow gate opens unto the land of nature and the dead,
an old wizard, once a healer of the land, of the season,
Turned obsessive, dark in mastering the other side of nature, the aes sídhe
obsessed with controlling ancient dark lords to his will, he strides forward into the shadow path
tua θa d̪ʲe danan (Shadow voices shrill out [t̪uaθa d̪ʲe; d̪anan̪]) tua θa d̪ʲe danan
Hear mine cry, Thy new Master commands thee
Arrogant from his adventures into the neverness of other shadow paths and worlds,
Samhain found ancient secrets of the shadows and the neverness,
With Onyxian Fire Sword and Axe of Sacred Scarring, Scrolls of the “Ancient Storms” of Wisdom, power and might, secrets of ancient gates,
Given rings and amulets of power and undeath
Samhain walks forth with dark verses of might and binding,
Killing, enslaving and taking all that his lusted eyes now see,
Reaching to conquer, searching for the “Four Treasures” of the Tuatha Dé Danann;
     The Dagda's Cauldron      
The Spear of Lugh
The Stone of Fal
The Sword of Light of Nuada

Powerful relics, enough to conquer and be the new lord of the stars, dark and natural powers combined,
The Stars will now Bear my SEAL, and obey my every command and whim
I ALONE have discovered thine dark secrets, and I ALONE will rule over thee, So say I, so shall it be
Enraged with the enslavement and killing of the priests, and the use and knowledge of shadow path, Tuath Dé easily overpowers Samhain,
Stripping him of ultimate power, and his Shadow swords, axe, and dark verse of might,
He is taken to the source wall;
a place of unimaginable horror beyond death, reserved for those beyond Tartarus,
and Brutally stripped away of the flesh, and fed to the first fallen, who have dwelled among ancient Titans, The birth place of Madness it is said
Forever walkin there in the halls of the Tormented,
where entropy continually eats away at the soul of those fool enough to try break through,
eating away power and desire, inflicting the old ways of torture,
Torture meant for the ancient fallen trapped upon the sourcewall, forever suffering eternal death,
Samhain protects himself well; however, protecting his power, still to be unleashed every time of year
a day of the dead, he can open and command the spirits to travel between,
Every Ancient storm, The ability to cross over himself and retake all that was lost, he awaits, awaits for a time of reckoning, looking forward with a never blinking gaze of blacken eyes of steel, staring at that future apocalyptic hour of return;
Lebor Gabála Érenn; the book of invasions, by the Four Masters tells of this,
Forever hidden away the book remains, taken and hidden away by one of the four masters,
a powerful mage himself, some say a secret shadow master of old blood ways
A brotherhood of necromancer disciples, it is rumored
said to have taken that hidden book deep into the shadow neverness until the day of Ancient storms approach once again…

nice, Eddie. Anyone else?

Framed. (Capital "F" )


Created in his image

(without the special powers or intellect)

to serve

offer praise to the creator
of such disappointment
a sinner I postulate

like
an inferior painting begging
the artist
to forgive
its ugliness

(while simultaneously giving praise
amazed at the talent)

wasted              (no laughter, please)

as the painter threatens
to burn the burden
if
it fails to improve
to become what it was destined

by the great whom
who did but didn't

always will and has but
never fucking does
in reality

and the paint pots are dry
the brushes beyond my grasp
splattered onto a discarded canvas
left to wonder at the combinations
of colors chosen
strange textures and odd composition

(is there a message
is this a self portrait)

god?

lost expression

left to explain
what I didn't create
pay penance for the flaws

and I never held a brush
never got the chance

I am claimed
though unsigned

framed.

Maenad

In Thebes, Dionysus did come
expecting homage from his mother's sister's son
instead, a mockery he was done.
Battle waged and rage had won
Mercy, he gave them none.
Agave tore asunder, Pentheus, her only son

Leaving Thebes, to Argos he did go
where, to his delight, the worship did flow
but, for the daughter's of King Proteus, they all did crow
No battle to be fought this time, rage was still in tow
In his anger, he planted insanity, encouraged it to grow
In the Princesses embrace - suckled babes, curling tiny toes
and when they awoke - they found their delights had turned to woes