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Post by vulture on Feb 10, 2011 20:56:36 GMT -6
This then the beginning of the end.
Often envisioned by sage and insane alike.
Where once flowers of myriad scents and colors
littered this swath of waving greenery,
now only ghosts and the echoes
of voices litter the expansive emptiness.
But, once upon a time,
here thrived a village
of simple, yet elegant beauty.
Where artisans, craftsmen,
poets and princes wandered
shoulder to shoulder
in total disregard
of rank or status.
Before the Dark ages.
Before the pages of history
swept faster and faster
towards the ending
with a terrible
veracity
Nothing,
nay nothing,
may save this once
hallowed dell of poetical
beauty but the inclusion
of a fairytale spin...
Prithee, a wonderous
warrior of great feats and skills
might yet lay back the dark veil
that lies across this pall stricken land...
Perhaps, a wizard shall arise
that with a bang of his gnarled staff
as he calls aloud to the skies
shall enchant the land
from this horrid spell
Maybe a maiden shalt appear
in the near distant future.
One, though not virginal,
is a maiden in her heart,
none the less...
Could be a fierce dragon
might beat the dome of the heavens
with its macropterous wings
and slay all that would
stand against the saving
of this now blighted land...
Stranger things have happened.
One never knows, one of the above
might appear on the horizon to save this
land from its stagnant self...Who knows?
Perhaps, all of the above shall arrive...
Then again, perhaps not...
Perhaps nothing worth saving
is to be found here in...
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Post by sergosa on Jun 15, 2011 10:18:59 GMT -6
Hi!
Interesting dark philosophy. Interesting reading.
Enjoyed.
S.
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Post by vulture on Jun 26, 2011 0:03:15 GMT -6
Thank you, S.
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Post by heartfelt7 on Jun 28, 2011 9:02:30 GMT -6
I love the imagery in this, the references to myth and legend. It's like a mystical story of saving the world from it's long decay back to nothing. It "once" was beautiful, like a rose that is destined to dry up and blow away.
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Post by vulture on Jun 28, 2011 23:46:33 GMT -6
Thank you, H.  |
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Post by vulture on Sept 16, 2011 21:11:03 GMT -6
This then the beginning of the end. Often envisioned by sage and insane alike. Where once flowers of myriad scents and colors littered this swath of waving greenery, now only ghosts and the echoes of voices litter the expansive emptiness. But, once upon a time, here thrived a village of simple, yet elegant beauty. Where artisans, craftsmen, poets and princes wandered shoulder to shoulder in total disregard of rank or status. Before the Dark ages. Before the pages of history swept faster and faster towards the ending with a terrible veracity Nothing, nay nothing, may save this once hallowed dell of poetical beauty but the inclusion of a fairytale spin... Prithee, a wonderous warrior of great feats and skills might yet lay back the dark veil that lies across this pall stricken land... Perhaps, a wizard shall arise that with a bang of his gnarled staff as he calls aloud to the skies shall enchant the land from this horrid spell Maybe a maiden shalt appear in the near distant future. One, though not virginal, is a maiden in her heart, none the less... Could be a fierce dragon might beat the dome of the heavens with its macropterous wings and slay all that would stand against the saving of this now blighted land... Stranger things have happened. One never knows, one of the above might appear on the horizon to save this land from its stagnant self...Who knows? Perhaps, all of the above shall arrive... Then again, perhaps not... Perhaps nothing worth saving is to be found here in... And behold, there came a time, when once more and again shafts of sunlight pierced the clouds of somber pewter that had darkened the land titled Nothing Worth Saving... Not one, but a few maidens voices could be heard rising above the fields surrounding the village singing simple songs of joy and romance as they went about their tasks Poets wandered at whim and will from the castle upon the hill above the village dell and throughout the hovels of the peasants, alike Entertaining both king and common man A wizard returned home to his secret cave in the forest; a child of the angels was born unto this world through the vessel of a human woman; and more than a warrior or two rode towards the land formerly deadened by blight, famine and cheerless hopelessness. Not all of these battle scarred individuals were the best of characters- some rode for honor, others for coin or fame- one, or two, rode for the joy of killing... Murderers, mercenaries and martyrs, oh my... Something was a foot...Something fierce and wonderous was about to come and be... In the Land formerly titled, Nothing Worth Saving... Now, fast becoming, The Land of Something More... |
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Post by heartfelt7 on Sept 19, 2011 16:21:46 GMT -6
V - This is wonderful in so many ways - an ending, a new beginning, the hope, and the words just pull me in. Maybe you could write a book about this little hamlet so I could keep reading (ha)! Exalt!!!
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Post by aims on Sept 24, 2011 19:51:31 GMT -6
 pure reading pleasure!!!! |
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Post by vulture on Sept 27, 2011 22:36:17 GMT -6
Mission accomplished then, as I do aim to please!
Thanks for your read Sir Aims!
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Post by anirbas on Mar 22, 2012 23:28:48 GMT -6
~Virago
And so it was, it came to pass
deep within a placid lake of a soul
a sleeping virago awakens
blinks fire bright eyes
stretches its arms and claws
and wiggles its toes
til it giggiggiggles
Virago, older than the now silent
sand trapped Spinx has dreamed
herself back into knowing who she is-
a fierce child warrior once pitted
against pitiless monsters of the past
Trained to bat away lies and liars,
bring bullies back down to a malleable size,
it is always the stench of injustice
that awakens her senses
And always, it is in the body of a girlchild
she chooses to coocoon her re-emergence from.
Children are innocent, frail...Easily ignored chasing
around and about camp and feast tables,
hearing as many adult tidbits
as they filch sweets from the edges
of the tables themselves
Virago...Awakening quietly now...
Exploring this world through the round eyes
of an eleven year old unaware of her parasitic companion...
Virago...Awakening quietly now...Growing...
Quietly growing...Until the moment
the girl and she together grow
strong enough to roar
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Post by moseley on Apr 17, 2012 1:11:23 GMT -6
Sometimes the wizard is a confused warrior who thinks he was the king by proxy while attempting to be the magician in the parlor of the princess if only to foul her laundry more indirectly, the same old fish sometimes seems like a strange magic all anew when the forlorn wishes to be a lover by means of jestership, lest he should just be found out to be wanton....strange magic indeed, for once we disappear, we find ourselves there again, never really far behind the curtain....
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Post by anirbas on Apr 19, 2012 14:07:02 GMT -6
Lovely, lovely addition to this thread, Moseley. Thank you for sharing!
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Post by anirbas on May 27, 2013 19:16:34 GMT -6
~Into the Sunset
Wanderers, return to this hamlet of wonders.
No matter how far the feet of your spirit
may take you, here, is always home.
Here, we await your words
with bated breath,
one and all...
Spellcasters, let down your guard. Return. Regarde vous...
Blood flows once more and again in the veins of dragons...
See, how they grow and belch fire. Come. Soon we shall ride them
into the sunset to the other side of the world where the sun also rises...
To return before the next day begins here, where X marks the spot we began...
Nothing worth saving? I think not. Always something more needs saving...
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Post by anirbas on Jul 20, 2013 0:30:36 GMT -6
~Careful What You Wish For...
Always something more needs saving.
These days, I find it is myself needs rescue.
And with that in mind, oft times,
a bard's gotta do, what a bard's gotta do.
Into this glen I step, ringed round aboot
with silver leaved maples, whilst the moon is full
as the fool I be ever believing I was a word dancer.
To the star shot and scattered indigo heavens
I raise my face and extend my arms to encompass
the universe in all its glory and majesty...
And shout at the top of my lungs:
"I free myself to write freely, again!
I strike loose the shackles that hobble me!
That I may wander-once more and again
in the company of one or more Muses-
unbound, unfettered, unrestricted!"
My voice lowers as I receive
naught so much as a sneeze
from the gods of writing
to acknowledge
my statement.
I continue, sotto voce:
"Whatever and wherever
inspiration is to be found
there you will find me
hands cupped to receive
my sip, my sup
from the Hippocrene
Fountain, if the Muses
will but have me, again.
I free myself, to write freely.
I am a word dancer
a word smith
a poet.
I am.
Aren't I?"
This last line,
uttered in a whine.
My grandstanding is futile.
I am given nothing I may perceive
as a reply. Per chance the stars
glimmer a bit brighter.
Tis naught but Luna
dims, already waning
in her descent.
A breeze blows the trees,
I shiver in response,
take my leave
of the glen
posthaste.
I make the path
leading back to the village.
Promptly trip over a rock
and fall headlong
to sprawl in a most ungraceful
manner there amongst the dirt and pebbles.
My face scratched, my pride snatched
along with the air from my lungs
as I hit terra firma with a thud
and whoomphing rush of expelled air.
Nothing worth saving so I lay quietly
in the dark of night. Breathing in the dry
scent of stone, clay and waterless earth.
An owl hoot-hoot-hooted.
A spectator
to my embarrassment,
afterall.
I recovered my will,
forced myself to my hands
and knees, in time to hear
the sound of fast approaching
carriage wheels coming over the rise.
I rose, jumped in the deep ditch
beside the path, breathing
the thick rich scent of loam
and rotting leaves,
I hid there.
For the second
time that evening,
on my stomach.
I was going to need
bathing, after this!
Oh, the horror!
The carriage pulled abreast
of my hiding place and stopped!
I dared naught draw breath.
Therefore, I did naught...lol
I swear, I swain, the pearl white beast
nearest me, turned its head
and stared directly at me!
Motion at the back of the carriage
drew my eye. A footman jumped down,
ran around, threw open the door
and let down the steps.
A black void yawned inside
the cavernous carriage.
For what seemed an eternity
nothing else happened.
Then a figure leaned forward,
unfolded itself down the steps.
It was an old man, bent
at the waist and wizened.
He shrugged off the assistance
offered by the footman
in an irritated manner.
Uncannily, as the horse
had done, he glared directly
at my hiding place
in the ditch.
Where I was turning blue
from holding my breath...
My stomach growled.
He howled with laughter.
Pointing a gnarled forefinger
directly at the spot
where I lay.
He spoke in a voice
as gravely as the path,
"Come out, you young welp.
I know you are there.
I am penning my memoirs.
I have need of a ghostwriter.
I'm the Duke of Degeneration.
I have money and lands,
out the yingyang.
I tell you, I will pay well.
I can hear you are hungry,
from the empty growl
of your belly"
Wow. Really? I throw myself
on the mercy of the Muses
and this, this is their answer?
A garrulous, old coot
in search of a ghostwriter?
Really? So, be it.
I rose from the ditch,
followed the geriatric one
into the confines of the carriage
without a hitch...
He dropped his voice,
conspiritorially,
once the footman
had folded the steps
and closed the door.
"I must warn you.
I am very old.
I have had many lovers
in my lifetime."
Oh, great.
I was going
to be ghostwriting
pornography!!!!!
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Post by anirbas on Sept 6, 2013 21:06:25 GMT -6
Somewhere down the road from Fantasy Land.
Perhaps, even in another country...
An innocent fool betrays trust unknowingly
and becomes lost in the Land of Darkness
An elf, a fairy and a Man Child
wander the jet colanades
in search of his sweetheart-
a princess, the erstwhile
innocent fool; and a one horned
wonder of magic, though not of the one eyed variety,
chained in the dungeon as a monster
soon to be a sacrificial lamb
at the altar of all that is evil
or intends to evil be...
Think this...Wear that...
Dance with me...
Do not diamonds glitter
so precious and ominous
by candlelight in a cavern
of nascence and fear?
Think this...Wear that...
Dance with me...
~*~
Can you say, someone just watched 'Legend' and now is off to watch 'Labyrinth'...Woohoo! It's fantasy movie marathon night in Nir Land!!!! hehe
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