My poetry (updated! 9-10-13)

Colligere

Dear readers,

These are thoughts, expressions of emotions about people, places, or feelings I've had. I started writing poetry for this collection recently, so all these are well...recent feelings. In the past few months my life has been a very bad life, but hopefully new, better light is around the corner; in fact it is.

Many of my poems may include references to Poe, or to Greek mythology and that is simply because I admire those things. Poe, a great poet from my home state of Virginia, wrote some amazing poems when he was depressed, drunk, and alone. So do I actually. And the mythology angle? Well, you guys may guess that.

Dedications to my poetry, have been somewhat recorded but there are a few requested poems in this collection, you'll know what it is when you read them (if you are the one who requested them). I hope you enjoy these poems, another collection should be out soon, depending on my material.

If you would like a poem, just tell me and I'll write one, just give me a topic and I'll try my best. That's it for now.

Sincerely,
Zachattac

~~~
Brook

I say along it for hours,
The brook of my choosing.
It spoke to me in it's babbling tone,
Telling me the secrets of nature!
Oh sweet tongue it spoke,
One only a few can understand.

For lo! The language is special.
The language if the water,
The plants
The rocks
Not everyone can listen to the babbling brook!
But many can try.

~~~
Untitled

Thy sun sets below the horizon,
Casting it's last warm rays upon me.
I sit under that same old tree,
The cedar tree which I treasure.
It's aroma fills the valley with the sweet scent.
A river snakes along nearby, the fish swimming upstream, to spawn, to die.
It is the circle of nature, a cycle ne'er broken.
The birds hum their song in tune above me, the deer prance around me.
Oh how I miss this place when I depart!
The place I was raised, the place I learned to love!
And so I love it, more than I could for a human, it is a special love.
The love, the connection between a man and his land, the sacred connection so rarely broken and shattered!

Awaken from my thoughts, a butterfly on my knee,
Staring up at me!
I watch this elegant creature, proof of the one.
I watch it fly away, and into the woods around me.
Around me lies the forest, sleeping though teeming,
Teeming with more life than one can imagine, from the birds to the deer, to the ants upon the ground.
Flora and fauna, lay scattered in the valley.
Holly! Maple! Pine! Honeysuckle!
The names I learned as a child, the plants that have me so much.
I want to return to here, and never leave.
To live and to die, from birth until death.
This is my home.

~~~
Sapphire

A lovely young lady hums her way,
A sapphire, pure and bright.
Perhaps she doesn't notice her translucent glow,
Or amplifies it for everyone to know.

Precious and shining, an inspiration in life.
Her courage strong, steady as the wind.
From the land of the rising sun,
To the islands of the Caribbean,
She's there, yet here. Willing to give her advice.

The art she crafts is astounding!
Like drops of magic on paper.
Has the deity of art shined upon her? I trust it to be as so.
A person a million in one,
A one in a million.

Can you see the grace in her brush?
The Beauty she possesses?
Can you sense the honor she upholds?
Or are you blind?

Yes, sapphire the bright blue wonder,
The precious stone above all,
A person unique as any, but has let her brightness show.

~~~
Rain

Rain, the tears of gods.
Those magical droplets that bestow life upon this planet.
Glistening with rays of the sun,
It falls into ones hand, splashing it's magic.

~~~
Temptress

It's a miracle how some maiden,
Can twist a man in two.
Not caring bout his heart, nor soul,
As he crumbles to dust.

Oh! How can I be so stupid,
As to fall in such a temptress trap.
They tease and play with emotions,
Before sending their prey upon sharp rocks of depression.
A wicked creature these are,
Whom though lies to keep an innocence look.

Women, Mans greatest tragedy, and victory.
Their weakness and their strength.
Their friend and their enemy.
Oh! How they go from angels to demons! With only a sudden word.

As I sat in my study, pondering such a demons affect upon my heart,
One door closed, yet three more opened.
"The choice of a lifetime!" I said to myself,
In awe of the innumerable possibilities that I could now acquire,
I made a wrong choice and sent myself back again into despair and regret.

Only the strongest can recover,
After being put down my many of the feminine.
Am I strong? I think not,
Yet I find the strength to carry on with my life,
To make the choices that make me, not me who make the choices.

Some say I'm a fool,
I say they don't know fools from hidden talent.
Some say I'm stupid,
They don't know hidden genius.
Yet every rose has it's thorns,
And every man has his weakness.

The weakness is pure and simple,
The tanned legs, the flowing hair,the impeccable beauty all they possess.
Is the female gender, that's mans greatest weakness.

Oh! The stupidity for me to begin the cycle again.

~~~
Falling Angel

A warm day I sat, the planes to fly,
The breeze cool, the grass green.
I did not expect it, the angel to fall.
In fiery death as it exploded.
Aghast I sat, the flames ever higher!

Not one survived, but the legacy lives.
The walker of wings, angel of air...
Shall never leave my thoughts.
My sympathy to the family! How they must grieve...
The unexpected claimed the lives, but not their dreams.

We will continue to test the limits,
It is our nature.
Others may forget the sacrifices of these three....
But I never will.
Ever.

~dedicated to the two people who died in a plane crash on June 22, 2013 at the Dayton Airshow, including Kate Wicker.

~~~
I know her well?

There is a girl, brunette and strong,
Who stands upon the desolate hill.
Spear in hand, eyes like fire upon ice,
A beauty rare and radiant!

I sat in awe of her, my eyes never leaving,
Her form full, her skin cleansed of imperfection.
A radiant warrior? Goddess? No.
A friend, a friend above all I named.

An ally, a friend, an occupier in the darkest days,
A woman who stands by her ideals.
However helps me, with other.
A sorcerer some claim, the blood of Arthur within?
Perhaps, or shall she descend from a greater power, Merlin?

Answers one may never find, but a flower I will,
Flora and fauna, Yin and Yang, things meant to be accompanied.
The friendship we possess is a thing of beauty, built by the fragile, yet miraculously strong trust.

Ah! Woe is me! I have broken the trust!
My heart lay upon sharp stones,
Along the pools of molten,
Never to forget the suffering I have committed.
An act to me, as bad as murder!
To face the noose I should, but....

Grace saved me, her forgiveness (reluctant I thought),
Brought me from the ashes! Brought me above!
Oh thank the heavens for such a friend, for such a strong, loyal friend.

I cannot think of a universe I could be in without the guidance,
The advice,
The experience,
The time I had with a truly great friend, one I value, higher than gold.

~~~
She is a friend

A friend closer than other,
One who knows my flaws, and opposites.
The closest person to me is her, one I value in a form higher than;
Gold,
Diamond.

The days I can't remember, I fear the days I want back.
Though those days may never return,
I'm glad to have her.
Some days, in my darkest,
I forget her, forget I an ask for advice...
And then I lose hope.

The thunder crashed upon my head,
Amnesia immediate.
The memories I had once treasured, gone.
I want what I had back,
Though time it will take.

Emotions are waves in the river of life...but the ones for her,
Remain constant.
Although I have friends as strong as her to me,
She is close, closest to me.
She knows who she is.
She is my friend.
She is much more.

~~~
A corpse in closet

A corpse everyone has in their closet.
I know cause I have seen them.
Bloody, gory, ripped to shreds?
It doesn't matter, everyone has one.
Fallen comrades they once were.
Or family you long hated.
The blood drips from your hands.
Sin, sin, sin, your covered in it.
The sound of the dead.
The smell of the dead.
You can't handle it?
So be it.

A corpse you will be.
By my skinless hand.
It's red muscle groping at your face.
It's white bones tearing though your eyes.
Blood....blood.
Lots of blood from you.
Tasty blood, pouring from your face.
A stab to the gut, a slash to the chest.
The organs pouring out, the organs squashing.
The floor covered now, a corpse now.
Into the closet, blood dripping.
No one knows the corpse in my closet.
Is you.

~~~
The greatest Sacrifice

A forgotten grave rests in the many of Arlington.
A fallen of the nation he protected.
No one knows him, no one sees him no more.
He rests silently six feet under, in his wooden bed.
He was only a nineteen, when he took the bullet to his head.
Protecting his country in 1916, his friends at his sides.

The trenches were damp, the shells loud and explosive.
Mice and Rats ran numerously, biting the men and stealing the rations.
The barbed wire, the dead, the thought of the next.

O' how many men crossed that Plutonian shore in a single day?
The fields of France once dug up and stained with the fallen,
Now are green again, not a scar of earth to show the pain.
Thousands came, thousands died,
Did you really think it was the war to end wars?

You rest under the white cross, a reminder of your sacrifice.
Though your name is not known, nor your history I sit by your grave.
To thank you for your service, your duty repaid.
A duty I could never do myself, not in the age we are in.
An age where a sacrifice as valuable as yours is not to be compared with now.

You gave up a life, a family and a future to let yourself go.
You went overseas, France as I think.
France is pretty now, but seeing your grave...
Brings back the horror of 1916,
When you were only nineteen.

Thanks to you and your brothers, our world is still here,
Not in a shape to say good, but still here.
Thank you, for your sacrifice young man.
One I could never repay you for, in a thousand lifetimes.

Tell me, did they beat the drum slowly?
Did they play the death march as they lowered you into the earth?
I hope you died quick and painless,
For you have the greatest sacrifice.

~Dedicated to all the unknown graves in the world, for the people who died for what they believed. I thank them for the tremendous sacrifices that they did for the world.

~~~
The Phoenix

Once upon a summer night, while I sat in the humidity, my eyes rested upon such a creature like no other! It's wings were fire, it's eyes were coals, a breathtaking creature it was! "I must be drowsy or drunk" said I, as such a creature is not real!

But distinctly I remember, I had no ale nor weary in my mind as I watched the magnificent creature, it's flight across the field in front, breathtaking. Then it dove, dove to the ground and with the smell of smoke I gasped!

It's wings sung with flames high, it's entire gracious form ablaze before my own eye! The horror in the air as I watched it burn, burn; burn to nothing!

My tears came silently, splashing among the grass as the bird was diminished to ash. White, cold, ash. I could not trust my memory as the most magnificent bird had burned before my eyes.

Then as I turned my head I heard it, a new sound aloft in my ear. I slowly faced the ashes, heart beating. Dreaming dreams no mortal ever dated dreamed before as I faced the ash, and saw the miracle.

The bird! Yes the bird, young again as it raised from the ashes of it's predecessor! I could not trust the sight in front of me to be true as the young bird opened it's eyes, it's color like the most wonderful sunset.

I approached this bird, this miracle of nature, my hand outstretched as if to stroke the fiery feathers that the bird had grown in so short a time. From the ash to the young chick, I touched the fire.

Warm, not hot; it danced across my palm, warming my skin and soul, the birds eyes looking into mine. Oh! What wonderful feeling! The bird that died lived again! I watch this...this regeneration, a sight that must be rare.

Then it flies off, the bird I had watched become reborn, fly into the east, chasing the sunrise, the vibrant colors painting the sky in an angelic pattern. I'll never forget this bird, this mythological creature I know to be true!

As long as the sun shines bright, as long as the heat and warmth in nature is here, so will be this bird, this spectacular creature of the myths...

The Phoenix, forevermore.

~~~
Depression

An issue close to me, as it is how I lost my heart. Over many short and horrible days it pounded upon me as a wave does upon sand!

I sore into depression, then out again as my life grows darker, deeper, bloodier.... My heart is gone, nothing left but a hole.

A hole in my chest, one as deep as Tartarus and as black as death. My heart, long since cracked is behind repair. Don't attempt.

I am reaching, but I fall. And the end is closing in. As I stare into the abyss! The pit of my emotions. It swallows me, my body tumbling as I fall....

Will I ever touch bottom? Or will death, the comfort of death consume me first? Sometimes I want it, I stand on the ledge. I hold the knife firm. But I don't.

I cannot do it, cannot end it like this. Life is a test, survival of the strongest. You have to be strong to survive.

I am not strong, nor brave. I am not handsome, nor attractive. Though I know one thing I am. I am me.

No one is more me than me, take life day by day and be yourself. The hole starts to fill, my body is lifted....

Day by day I heal. Though my heart may never return, I will not change myself. I am one of a kind. I am special.

So leave me alone depression. Leave me alone! Vanquish yourself from this earth! Go to hell, and let me live.

~~~
So choose my friend...

Though emotions wreck havoc through my mind and body, I know you are there for my fall. Your the one, the only one keeping me up tall. Your always there for me, though as hard as I try, it seems I am never there for you. Is it by some cruel twist of fate?

That I may never come to my friends aid? So she thinks I am a fool, when I do all I can to accomplish our goals. Murphy is on my enemy's side, stopping me at every turn. I go, I fight; tooth and nail, to get to her!

But alas, it does not happen. My depression creeps in, the self hate...why couldn't I have stayed up to see her? Why couldn't I have coaxed the every precious sand of time?

Miserable, I sit in the corner writing, writing till the day is done. Poetry, Story, letting my dark emotions creep through. Guilt, pain, and that cold feeling of disappointment fill me, thrill me with my fears which I may never relieve.

She often forgives me, but I know, in myself that one time she will not forgive. Oh! I dread that day, the day when the moon turns red, the sea becomes blood! My world ends, when I lose her as my closest friend.

I sit in the corner, listening to the call of the raven, the song of the cardinal. Nature is on my side, though I cannot feel comforted by it, the darkness looms ever higher, threatening and dark.

What does she feel when I depart? When I cannot arrive the same time she wishes me to arrive? Does she regret my friendship? Dies she hate me? A girls mind alone is impossible to understand, let alone a certain, complicated emotion.

I sit under the cedar, under the pine and oak. I wish I could just run away, get myself a boat. Long days, long night, no contacts in the sea. But could I make it? I don't know.

Why does my life have to be so hard? So hard to spare hours to speak, hours to express the special love I hold for her. Does she feel the same as I do for her? I do not know, and the sudden feeling of fear prevents me from finding out the truth.

I watch the sun dip below the horizon, only to rise upon her side. The sunset and sunrise collide in such brilliant colors. Why can't the moon, as me, eclipse the great power of her, the sun. Why can't this event happen, the event so desperately needed!

I sit alone, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dreamed before as the dark passes closer, and closer; like a pack of ever hungry wolves. The cold increases as the dark sky becomes black, no light anywhere. Just empty blackness, encasing me within it's shroud.

Will I ever be found outside of this casket? I do not know, my bones and body quickly turning to dust, the air becoming hard to breathe. The thought going through my mind....will she mourn?

Then it happened! The dark peeled back, the casket burning open. I watched as she cracked the dark, lay it aside like wheat and help me. What makes her come back and help? What makes her save me again and again from the clutches of death? I don't know, and I fear to find out.

We went home, she scolded me with her tender love, insuring I knew she would be there. I do not question, but in my head I wonder how long till the bonds fall off with rust? The manor protecting the scars, the physical wounds, though not the mental ones as I sit, watching her. She finishes, then tells me not to worry, but I do anyway. I cannot stop worrying.

She strides, her long tanned legs clearly showing as she starts music, dancing along to the soft and steady beat, beckoning me to go to her. I walk over, and we hold each other.

And we danced, on the cold marble tile, dancing around and forgetting the worries, the fear I have gone for the seconds, the precious grains of time. The partners get closer, the dance gets tighter as the song nears it's end, until the two become close as can be, staring into each others eyes.

Then I look away, look upon the marble as she frowns, unsure what to do. She's gone through so much, she needs to make the choice; a choice to which my future stands on. She chooses...oh she chooses. The choice is unknown...but the retreat on the choice only prolongs my pain. So pick! Pick and decide my fate dear friend.

Not one way around, not one way to get through this question peacefully. Chaos will creep it's demonic, ghastly head into this, ruining me either way, why you, looking like the Helen (of Troy) continue on your merry way!

The pain inside my heart grows with each passing hour, growing larger and larger when the wait finally ends it is critical. I wait and listen, listen well and clear as she speaks her mind, her pure and just choice. What is my fate? How will I burn?

So choose already.

~~~
The river

The river, a symbol in itself. Of life and time it stands, swiftly flowing or slowly swirling. I sit by this river for days, to watch the life around it teem and strive! It is a marvel to see the trout, jump and catch it's meal before hunkering down to the murky depths.

The current swirls along, taking it's path through the water, pulling it's followers of rocks and nature. Leading the liquid to the sea, to the land beyond land. Fast and slow, it rides the water through rapids and dams. Nothing can tame the current, a force of nature like any other.

The fish leap and dive, splashing in the blue river, taunting the fly and the men. The many colors, the many types, all beautiful in there own image! I watch them all, splash up in down before settling into the depths of the river. I hold a pole once or twice, in an attempt to harness this power of nature as my ancestors did before me, and at times these fish play with the worm upon my very hook.

Time is like a river, it's stories contain keys to the past, present, and future. Ever flowing: never stopping. One must know the river to know time, as know time to know the river. I sit with my feet in the water, thinking those deep thoughts of memories, letting go of my worries.

Life! Oh the horrible yet great experience life is to all. It is like a river, it is ever flowing but at times it is smooth, at times rough. There will be obstructions and pools, waterfalls  and rapids. It is taken advantage of, yet takes advantage of when it must. They benefit, and they maim. A river is a life, or a life on the river?


It takes my worries away, washes my fears downstream as the water brushes over me, carrying me higher and higher into happiness. I could run to my friend, the river and enjoy many days in it's company, a perfect mix of nature in water. Mountains behind and the sun above, warming the surrounding sky with rays.

Animals drink from the river, same as me. An elk, a deer, a bison perhaps? I watch them take there drinks, cool in the water. Perhaps a wild and large grizzly will come to snatch up trout for itself? I watch on the banks, ever curious and ever learning.

Ah! The river so many things in one. I enjoy it as other do. It would carry me if I allowed it, and often I am tempted. But I am sure of one thing, the river is my friend.

~~~
The forest

The forest, a natural haven for man and beast alike. A favorite of men such as me, to relax and examine how fragile life is. See a bear snatch it's fish, or a coyote take on it's chase after a rabbit. To listen to soft flowing water trickle on down it's path.

The smell of fresh pine ever constant  in my mind as I walk carefully through a work down path. Rifle on my shoulder, knife on my belt, adventure on my mind. Late in October time had drifted, my special day yet to come as I make my way.

I can hear the song of nature, the birds in the tree him their song, the one so many marvel at but just can't comprehend. My hand rests on the smooth oak stock of my gun, although I don't plan on using it today. In my mind is the dream of art, of a sketch if nature itself.

My mind wheels back, my friends laughed! They said no one could do it, to find the hidden colonist path to great views. I knew I could though, and followed my heart. They could not deter me from my path. My eyes pick out the smallest details, a snapped branch from a best, a small best of a cardinal. I cannot help but smile as I travel along the ancient path.

I find the river, like I have so many times before. The slick rocks brushing over the top of the rapids, deceivingly safe, although they are shifty. I walk along this river, watching it change from the rough rapids to the calm pools, trout of rainbow swimming just underneath the glassy surface. I can remember the fishing of flys, my father and I, but I needed to concentrate.

I pause as I hear a snarl, one from behind. It could not be a bear, nor cougar. The growl was far more canine, and as I turned I saw where this growl had come from. A radiant wolf, standing proud as it growled, warning me that I had entered its territory. I knew what to do, how to keep this wonderful creature from attacking. It's gray fur shown with fresh beads of water, it's eyes staring into mine as I lay down upon my back. I watched as after I assumed the correct position the wolf, the gray wolf approach and investigate. I waited those tense minutes, waiting for it to complete.

It left, not looking back as it trotted away, leaving me to smile at the majestic animal, that also warned me. I kept my walk up, the sun at high, though I could not tell under the shade of oak and maple. The smell of this teeming nature haven still with me, and I knew I was closer. The river began to rough again, rapids climbing and white water pouring over my eyes! It pounded away at stone and ground, carving it's way past and smoothing along as well. I sat on the bank, watching this as water roared to life downstream, towards the old mill my ancestors maintained.

I set my hand into the cool feeling of water, letting it coat and cover my skin before withdrawing and walking farther and farther up natures miracle. I was about to give up, about to return as the sun passed the leaves and best upon me when I heard a sound over the song, a sound I had long awaited to hear. The roaring water sound beside me was drowned out to one of rushing, falling water and I knew what was close. With new hope I ran, making my way past thorns and bristles, branches and logs as I came to the sight I had desired to see.

A waterfall clean and pure, it's thunderous appearance an angelic sight to my eyes as I knew I was almost to my goal. Climbing the side, up to the top I did, my clothes pressed against me as the spray from the falls stung my eyes. Finally I was at the top and looked down the falls, the view one truly carved by a deity above all. I withdrew my paper and my pen, the image coming naturally to me as I imprint it upon paper, brushes coming into play to detail this wonderful image of nature. Each color matching, a work of art to the brilliance of Lenore!

Tis sadness overwhelms me when the sky darkens and I must depart from the rare and radiant sight of nature I had discovered, but I know I will be back.

~~~
Untitled

West of England there lays a place. Where the sky is blue and sun is warming. Sheep trot along fields and fences, the countryside outstanding and rolling along it's hills.

I know a friend within Cymru, a good one too.  A reader, a writer and an artist. Though times have been rough...

The conversations of friendship faded, and the good times have closed. Where have they all gone? I wish to begin to see her more often, to discover what has happened.

The times between us are hours, am imposing threat to any friend but only the greatest shall strive to overcome it. By the will of a singer, the solo of a guitar and a steady best of bass and drum pull our friendship close, a seal built thirty years before.

From the isles of Britain to the Stars and Stripes, she watches to make sure I live. A sister of sorts I would suppose? But no. Only one term describes it and that term she knows.

~Dedicated to...well she knows.

~~~
Forgotten

My feelings grow twisted and bitter, wrapping around the hole where my heart should be.

It is not there, for it has cracked and shattered, into so many shards it rivals the grains of sand on nights Plutonian shore!

A raven calls to me in it's ghastly grim grin, it's beak as dark as it's eyes as he continues to sound the same word.

My mind going dark, my sanity loosing grip on reality as insanity consumes with fantasy.

A dramatic and titanic eclipse that will echo across the land, across the night when the moons shines red.

Standing alone I will be, on the hell side of the Plutonian shore, my eyes watching and my ears listening as my friends one by one forget me and move on.

Nothing lasts forever, nothing at all. Not even the empire of Britain lasted, as it hopes it would.

So many years pass along the ground, each one changing life and liberty. The good days long gone for me as I feel the sand taking me under, down to hell.

I don't struggle, I don't resist. It just happens, and I leave. I burn and burn, and soon I am forgotten, forever.

Quoth the raven, I am NEVERMORE.
~~~
~~~
~~~

There you go, my first collection of poetry. The untitled poems you can suggest names for, and please tell me your opinions on my works. Any criticism is requested, as is comments and suggestions. My second collection will be about people I know, or did know.

Much of my inspiration is Poe, Virginia, or emotions I've had recently. Others are about people, and emotions towards them. I sincerely hope you enjoy.

~Zachary M.
July 11, 13'

... >.> You know what you're getting, right?

Spoiler:

YOU'RE HAVING A CWTCH.

/applause

Nice job, these are awesome!

Aw QB! Thank you thank you!

Thanks LUNA. I till want criticism though

Those are good Zach! Your a great poet!

Thank you, what was your favorite?

Should I post my second collection? Or complete it first?

Each poem is about a different member on this site. Guess the right people and win a prize!


FRIENDS.

Perhaps a man is not a man,
Without the friends of both the genders
Although not required, it is preferred,
For the opposites offer ideas,
Inspiration,
Love.

It is rare to find a person,
That has never had a friend.
For friends are something everyone needs, from the poor to the wealthy, the land if the rising sun, to the worldwide Brits.
Friends, as I have and deny,
Thank you.

~~~

From the darkness he forms,
The shadows of the lost and lonely.
A figure from hell, yet not the evil,
He is an interesting one.

Confusing he seems to me,
Although I have understood him,
But who is he really? Underneath that shadow covering.
The covering that hides him so well.

~~~

Bells twinkle in the west,
The sound pleasant and peaceful.
The sound of the bells in the ocean, That help the hearer survive the cruel game of life.

I have heard these bells, and they have helped me,
They have helped all who go to them for help.
Perhaps she knows something I do not,
No. I am certain she does,
And through all she endures,
She can multiply her sound by five,
And create harmony.

~~~

As feisty as a chili, though dark and interesting,
A demon sits upon my mind,
Possessing me to write this poem,
To create the horrors for mortals.
Though she is the demon in me,
We are friends.

You cannot ignore her, it seems impossible to do so when the true forms are revealed,
From south of me, yet still in an America,
She rises to battle,
A battle everyone must face.

I shall help her when she calls, as she has helped me,
I appreciate the gratitude I hold for her,
In the message of this poem.

The nights ghastly birds cannot stop me,
Nay! Can the heart that tells the tales of murder.
The raven leads the way.

~~~

Hmm, this one seems difficult!
For as we know of each other,
The communication is weak.
Perhaps for he is strong,
While I dwindle at the bottom of the heap.

Although advice is slow from is power,
He has governed for years.
Even before I entered his kingdom with his helpers that guarded the secrets.

How should I describe this man who sat in the lions pit? Who braved the twelve tasks of greatness?
Perhaps I cannot,
However I must admit,
I admire him, his leadership.

~~~

La Luna, La Luna.
The moon that governs the night as its celestial sibling governs the day.
She flies upon the world,
Spreading strange tales,
In our dream, scapes of our mind.

Two siblings beside her, both of scots.
The three team together,
Creating a mythical story.
The Heroes, the villains,
The epic carved from the minds.
When shall luna return?
Perhaps now.

~~~

A child of Artemis one would assume by the name this maiden picks, the woman if grace goes by. Perhaps if not Artemis, Selene? The radiant goddess that governs the moon chariot with brilliant skill.

Perhaps the sibling of Artemis, the darling Apollo, who rides the sun chariot with Selene after Helios Perhaps when they meet in the sky, the brilliance of an eclipse will reveal this silvers charm!

Alas I cannot say, as a mortal, as a poet. I do not even know what the populous thinks of her, thinking a of the moon girl, mysterious, yet calm as well.

It is up to you the masses! Up to my common man to decide who this girl is, where she's from, and perhaps, even the message she's been delivering?

~~~

Gunshots ring clear out the saloon, the dust flying and the outlaws falling by well placed slugs that this mysterious vigilante has dishes out once again. Streams of smoke flow from the barrels of her revolvers, and it isn't hard to decipher the identity now, but, but we shall continue.

No horse for her, but a set of spurs all the same, chaps and rounds, clanking as she slides the bullets into the six-shooters. Alas, no day is easy as another challenger approaches.

Big and bold, twelve gauge on his hip as if a pistol for his massive girth. He chuckles, grabbing this hero, vigilante by the shirt, ignoring her pitiful struggles!

Tossing this woman aside he keeps a gun at her, but doesn't know this talent. Faster than thought a gun is ripped out, and a second later...shot.

The challenger down, the vigilante wins again, protecting this camp.

~~~

Come one, come all! The sign said unto me. The famous tacos of Count Nefario have returned!

But how is this true? Surely taco man had taken out this taco van of magic. It seems though he didn't, and the battle of tacos begins!

Salsa, Guacamole, Cheese and tortilla! They fly across the parking lot, taco trucks against the other of the same!

Hot sauce to the eye! Sour cream to the chest! And now a dam burrito! Wait, burrito?

~~~

South of Virginia lives a man great.
Strong in his religion, yet gentle as a feather in arguments. Helper of the weak, warrior of his beliefs.

Although standing may be hard, stagefright does not affect only you my friend! State your glorious opinions to your colleagues, your fellow man. I cannot pass on the word alone.

~~~

Perhaps a person shall require a cool drink,
A drink of a dark colored potion.
Outweighed perhaps, by it's superior,
But this person may outweigh both the drinks.

Although I do not know much of the person,
I know this being has a well laid out future.
Perhaps you have not met the person,
But I have, and like a sibling to me.
Perhaps if I ask for a drink,
I'll get a Pepsi.

~~~

Once upon an autumn day in my dear sweet Virginia, I sit upon the ground and look at the fleeing light.
Birds shall chirp, the twilight drifting to night when my month long friend returns!

It has been a month, perhaps two since we had last conversed opinions if this complicated planet.
Ivory brown wings shine in the fading light, the bird chirping its sweet, sweet song.

It's as if this wonderful friend of mine can write a story with the amazing skill of her chirps.
The song always changes, yet is always constant and brings me to amazement.

Yes, finch, compared to the majesty of the Plutonian raven perhaps you fall short, but you spread your wings and soar.
Soar high above, over the seas and land that crowd this planet with people.

Alas, you took flight again so soon, and I sit and wait, staring for the finch.

~~~

Is it illegal to know this woman?
This woman in alliance to the Hero of the lions pit?
Although this hero has two, or perhaps three, there is one I am thinking of now.

Like a crystal in a ballroom chandelier, she shines.
Addictive as the place she spent years to build.

Perhaps crafted out of the chemical bath,
Or simply imported,
It is truly a mystery if this woman is a friend, or if merely a supervisor.
Perhaps a heroine alongside her hero.
Just be warned of the meth.

~~~

An artist made from precious stones,
One that shall stand above the rest in the fading light of the sea.
Her art like magic upon paper!
Oh! How it shines with its amazement!

The cruel critiques perhaps look, perhaps watch and yell,
But this shining sapphire shall never back down, she shall continue to grow.
Perhaps if we were all as talented as this great stone that shines so well,
We would all be friend, all be united.

But until that fateful day, this artist,
This magician,
This creator of brilliance shall lead the way.

~~~

An angel in the skies above india,
Flying over its monuments and plains.
The sacred river flowing swift,
The headlands cold and bold.

A captain likes to follow this angel, in a quest to find the resting place.
Perhaps she hides in India,
Perhaps in the mountains far, far above.

As if I did not suspect,
A monument that dominates the forest.
To the angel in a path to brilliance,
Yes! To brilliance.

~~~

I can honestly say I do idolize this young woman, one who has helped me time and time again, one that has stood beside me for over the year now.

A special bond struck between her and I, one made before our births near to where she resides. A god of pure music and his fellow stars encouraged the uniqueness of this friendship.

His name has not been forgotten, the god he is. One that sits upon a high throne of royalty that would overtop Lennon and the stones that roll, even the alternating current that rides it's highway to hell. No! This man is over them all.

He has aided this friendship I hold with this girl a regal friendship, one never before matched. My friend from the land of Cymru. Now! Shall we go and see them sheep?

~~~

A blazing fire that burns in the hearth at night is violent, yet take in it's humble home. The goddess that watches it, slowly tends it.
A blaze of these mythical flames prefer to be free, to be illusive and mysterious,
One and the same it is.

Blazes that crop by wood, by stone, by the molten rocks that hide under the armor of the earth.
The blaze of hate,
The blaze of passion,
The blaze of revenge burns with the effects of both.

Why might a man as pure as him go to meet this demon?
The demon that hides in the orient, awaiting to scorch the next victim.

Fire and ice along these mountains, meet in the fireworks of abandon.
I stray too close and burn. Fall.
I can see his ever blazing face over mine...
As my vision fades to black.

~~~

Hiding among the mountains of the rock, deep inside the country where I reside. The country of the eagle, the freedom of the individual that has since been receded. However this creature that is now upon me, does not abide by these selfish laws and rules of the human, the Homo Sapien

No, this sleek beast that howls through the night following only it's own rules, the rules of its monarchy group. The pack. Although many fear these beasts, I do not and seemed destined to seek them out myself.

The journey was hard upon me, my pack heavy and the environment not any more of help upon me. My body tired, the growls behind me. Could it be the great bear high above return?

No, this growl could not be Ursa Major, nor the minor but instead it must be the creature I seek.

~~~

The rolling hills north of England,
The highlands of the scots.
The castles, the lore,
The fogs and the legends that make this country what it is.
Castles, Lochs, and highlands.

Through the music of the bagpipes,
The drums and tartans of clans.
Perhaps I do not know what clan this girl is from, perhaps I do.
I do know she is my sister, one of three, a triplet.
A sister of la Luna, as one to me,
From the lands of the Scots,
A jasmine.

~~~

Sugar sugar sugar, surely this girl is made of it. The queen of pixie sticks reign over the cookies that serve her well. Hills of ice cream roll and swirl in flavored far more imaginable than to a simple mortal.

Candy and chocolate pools, all bubbling with the marvelous tastes. She may be short, she may be a monster,
But she sure is a pixie stick queen, one with the power over the sweets of candy!

~~~

Faith, the cruel thing that can build and destroy, that can tear and construct all the same. Though this faith is nicer, kinder....and I do not know her well.

Perhaps other may know Lehane, perhaps they are her family and closest friends. I would like to speak with her, talk to her and perhaps become friends, but it is rare that the evil time works together to make this happen.

So faith, how have you been? How are you? Everything is so hard to know, hard to discover in this chaos we know as the camp of half blood.

~~~

I have not spoke to this older sister in so many months, though the memory of her grace and comfort still rings so many times within my head. This girl so long away, though so close as I think of how she helped me time and time again.

No one could say a thing bad about her, she was perfect and cool, a solid sister until...the mysterious disappearance.

~~~

On my many journeys to the islands, mysterious, yet alluring concealed within the white foam of the pacific I stumbled across a horse, peculiar, yet intriguing all the same. From its head sprung a horn, and I had to follow it!

It had not seen me as I traced it, followed it through the highlands and glens, the forest and across the river. It led me to the sparkly rainbow palace of its monarch!

I hesitated to enter when the reign of the unicorn queen approached me, now I shall say this, upon the capture. I've never seen a more sparkly fate, a more rainbow like prison.

Now I warn thee, the unicorns monarch does not take kindly to visitors, unless you wish to see glitter torture, do not approach a unicorn!
(This was interesting to write...)

Guess who these poems are for! I wanna see who will get them all correct :)

Love you guys!
Z

Xavier allard: he's gone nuts

/claps
Wow. Just. Wow.

Not gonna guess? :P

Uhm, At first I was thinking about Jane (I don't know)

Each poem is about a different member on this site. Guess the right people and win a prize!

Ooo, is there one about me? And im pretty sure that the last one is about kenny.

Sorry spidey, I can't remember your name before that one, so I'm not sure exactly who you are :( and you'll have to get ALL the poems right to get the prize

An angel in the skies above india,
Flying over its monuments and plains.
The sacred river flowing swift,
The headlands cold and bold.

A captain likes to follow this angel, in a quest to find the resting place.
Perhaps she hides in India,
Perhaps in the mountains far, far above.

As if I did not suspect,
A monument that dominates the forest.
To the angel in a path to brilliance,
Yes! To brilliance.<<<<<<<