My Hero

Look! Mom, Look!

They called him to the field

No, Mom, you have to look!

His shield shines bright

reflecting the light of the sun

A billion hash marks on the other side

one for each monster, of course!

One for each monster that he has killed,

That's my  hero, my Dad

Greatest fighter of them all

See his helmet? The one with the horns?

He took those horns from a Minotaur

I bet he took the scales from a sea creature

While sailing with pirates...

Well... You said there were pirates last night

He can dance on light shoes with the monsters

They are magical, I magicked them with my pink bow!

See how he shines in the sun!

He's relaxing, waiting for the herald to yell

"Open the gates!"

But oh! When the gates open, 

and the monsters are let in...

What could it be this time?

Oh, oh, oh a lion!  I bet it'll be a lion,

with golden main flowing

The marshal's with spears pull to the edge

The lion would lunge, One, Two, Three!

The lion goes down!

A lion skin rug for his home.

The heralds have called again.

Mom? Are you even listening?

The gate opens,

You can almost hear the clink of the chains

But dad's not scared! He's my hero!

Its not a lion Mom!

A dragon lumbers in, it's scales red

A red dragon Mom! Of course!!!

Don't you see the scales!

There he goes! They square off...

The dragon lunges, dad feints

The dragon strikes, dad blocks

No! no, no, no the dragon got his leg!

Get up Dad! I believe in you!

One blow, I'm holding my breath

The dragon looms over him

Two blows, Dad get him,

I believe in you!

Three blows, the dragon goes down!

And my Dad stands

Victorious, winner of the bout

The dragon defeated

A shining symbol of good

My hero... my Dad

This was written on site at Beltane AS V.  At first I didn't have anything for the topic "Through the Eyes of a Child" then the muse hit.  With a baseball bat.  This is the result.

The Mad Dog War

The mist blanketed the still cold morn
As the tourney sprang to life
The birds grew hushed as the fighters armed
And the field filled with light
The dust was still in the morning mist
As eight grim warriors came together
With shield and sword they took up their cause
To fight in the mad dog war

Upon the field they faced each other
Taking the measure of those around
For one the shine of armor bright
Called others to the battleground
For another had traveled far and wide
To fight for his countries honor
For yet another new to battle
Came to try his hand against the others
With shield and sword they took up their cause
To fight in the mad dog war

Two who’s hearts were gentle and good
Their skill abundant with archers and warriors
A badger who took up his stalwart shield
To meet all those who came to challenge
An old white knight with the kindly eyes
His bearded smile knowing and waiting
And the warrior unknown to those around
His armor donned for the coming fight
With shield and sword they took up their cause
To fight in the mad dog war

Bout after bout each warrior did fight
Some loosing, some winning, some dying a lot
Though resurrected through force of will
The battle still raged under the marshal’s eye
In the misty morning day the sounds could be heard
Quick as a cat or stalwart and true
Taking all challengers giving honor its due
The warriors fought bravely throughout the day
They took up shield and sword and carried their cause
To fight in the mad dog war

As they fought again and yet again
The challenging throng dwindled from eight to few
With one lone knight on the field awaiting,
The challenge of warriors gently debating
They met again upon the field of honor
And in the end the day the battle was won
For they took up their shield
And they took up their sword
Their cause they had carried strong and true
To fight in the mad dog war

The Traveler

I am a traveler,

I have watched the grand passage

Of times most intimate details.

I have looked into the darkness

And seen in its brilliance,

That light once pierced would not,

Be taken away by darkness.

I have moved in the circles of angels,

Their wings light and airy,

Touching only the skin in soft

Sensuous touches.

I have had congress with the fallen,

Those who in a moment of weakness

Did not see the passage of truth

And grew from their weaknesses.

I have watched the monster,

Though he may be not so monstrous

Once my sword writes his name

I have seen the ancient past

Where magic and wisdom in moments

Of domination became religion and belief.

Why do I travel? Well my friend,

My travels are my own,

A lone quest, a journey for answers,

The questions? Not important.

I will know them when the answers come,

I will see when the glow of remembrance

Has finally faded into antiquity.

My footsteps long faded into dust.

My passage is time, a simple

Yet insurmountable foe, where

In the brilliance of a moment, all things

Are revealed within their truths

And I, the traveler, move on.

Authors Note:  This one came in a final push so I didn't edit it much.  Perhaps I will in the future.  This is what a first draft looks like.

Na Ríthe Teaghlaigh

He walks the line

A form made of brilliant light

And impeding darkness

Bourne from the misery of one existence

Into another

Doomed to look into the eyes

Of those who wronged him

And whisper forgivenesses.

He is a seeker,

Moving from passage to passage

Searching for that which is lost

And somehow waiting, to bring it home.

He is an advisor,

With quiet words and simple wisdom

Never extending his power

Beyond that of the tiniest brush

Of the lips.

He is a warrior

Strong and stoic in his brilliance

Waiting watching

Keeping safe those who protect him.

He is a fool,

Making his merry path

Learning from the mistakes that

Like so many others, have gone before.

He is a lover,

A slow sensual being,

His heart, given to that which

Would become his existence

If fate would allow.

He is a healer,

Mending the broke heart

With the lightest touch

Of feather wings

And stars within the sky.

He walks among the blades

As if they would not harm him

He takes his rest in pastures

Where evils dare not travel

One set of eyes on the road ahead

Another set on the road behind

He rests, He waits, He heals.

And in the moonlit stormy night

When the minds nativity

In its moment of opulence remembers

He will be there.

Hand out stretched

Waiting, waiting, for the moment

When all will finally be well.

Authors Note: This is a new piece that I hope you enjoy it.  I look forward to any comments that viewers may make.

Beautiful Submission

Who knows the minds eye?

Are you free in yourself?

Do you look into the mirror,

Disgust on your face

Wondering, Am I beautiful?

What is the measure of the minds eye?

In the moments of release

Where there is nothing left but you

Will you see your true self

For what you are?

Beautiful.

Your body a thing of genetics

Your mind a thing of experiences

You look into the mirror

Examining yourself inside

And wondering, Am I Beautiful?

Where does your beauty lie,

Is it in the smooth curve of the neck

The flatness of the tummy perhaps

Or is it in demeanor,

Your nature to be that which

To many would be repulsive

And yet you feel your strength

Knowing, that you have submitted

Not to the beauteous expectations

Of a race which reveres

The haggard skeletal follower

But to your own expectations

Of Beauty.

As you kneel before your own alter

Looking into the mirror of truth

Seeking your inner beauty

You see finally,

That though you have been bent

To the will of the world

It is in your submission to your own will

That ultimately makes you

Beautiful.

AUTHORS NOTE: This is a new piece posted for the first time.  I hope with it we will each be challenged to seek our own beauty and to understand each others.  Common beauty is just that, common.

Storms Make us Stronger

All things end in time

As the cycle comes to a close.

Remember the words of the wind and earth

and fire in your heart will dim to a glow.

Find the strength to carry on,

the torch though dim still burns.

Remember and remember forgive and forgive

but never to forget the words.

The storms make us stronger,

the winds teach us to stand

The waters cleanse our spirits

before we once again seek land.

The banner is still flying,

Some have lost their track,

In war and peace there are casualties,

We mourn their loss and death,

But the storms make us stronger

And the winds teach us to stand

The waters cleans our spirits

Before we seek dry land.

AUTHORS NOTE: So this is another older piece but it exactly how I feel right now.  I see no point in creating a new piece of work for something that quite frankly I've already said.  I would however like to point out that I haven't stopped composing new poetry.  I am working on a new piece but I need to get over my writers block first.  My hope is that you enjoy this one until the next post. 

Warlock

I stand resolute,

Unable to believe the words

Cast in my direction by the wind

My awareness a shade of darkness

That uses light like a prism

To reflect the changes in others

For myself to view

Within the darkness I have noticed you

Skulking through your moments of solitude

Believing you have everyone fooled

Believing you are the only one aware

Thinking that no one notices the changes

Make no secrets that you are not willing to have seen

Make no moves that you are not willing to explain

You demand from others

And yet, are indignant when any demand of you,

Bring you information you ask,

Sending your little minions scurrying about,

Believing that they work with you,

When in reality your disdain for them is simply clouded,

Let them not see.

When in reality you are nothing more than a user,

A small insignificant dot in the sky of change

Who believes that the only way should be yours

Christianity suits you,

One more person standing on a soap box screaming

Mine is the right and true way, none other is true!

Believe only me.

The writing is on the subway walls,

For all to see if they simply wish to look,

Unable to bend to the ways of another,

To neither accept them nor trust that they can accept you,

I am not like you,

I know who and what you are,

Your shadow games and misguidance's are not lost on me,

Your moments of silence to preserve your precious knowledge

Your inability to trust,

You are you,

I accepted that a long time ago,

You use me to your own ends

You have no respect for me,

Few do.

But I am me,

I have been here in your territory,

I have moved in your circles,

You can not simply cast me out,

I will not play your games any longer.

Gathering people around you,

Like so many Pokémon so that none will hear my words

Making sure that they only know what you want them to,

Molding them to be good little drones,

Never to consider ideas beyond yours,

It's too dangerous to do such, you could get hurt,

Speaking to adults as if they are children,

You could be misguided, mine is the only right way,

I am the only one that can help you, teach you,

Start a church or get over it.

My mistake in this void was loving you,

A mistake I recognize and won't fix

My mistake was trusting you

A mistake I won't make again.

Until you have earned it.

My trust is only given freely once.

Yet I will be here, as I always am,

Keeping my home open, doing my work,

Work you couldn't fathom, work you think insignificant,

And when the deceiver's voice comes to my door,

I will not allow it to touch me,

For my trust has been lost,

And to me, your moments of silence,

Are no better than lies.

AUTHORS NOTE:  This is an older piece.  I know it's not like some of my other pieces as it's much darker, angrier and overall harsher.  I keep this piece around (it's not one of my favorates) because it shows the breadth of what I can write as a poet in many regards.  I was angry when it was written that shows through very clearly.  :)  Once again this is an OLDER PIECE written over 2 years ago at this point.