Never befriend a soul-eater.
Born from the void,
They can eat reality in a satisfying gulp.
The fabric would be snipped from its place.
no amount of stitching could rebuild the base.
What if, in battle, you’d confused the pegasus with the unicorn.
The pegasus, she’s ready to help rid you of your enemies,
But pray that last warrior was willing to lose the fight.
The unicorn, with it’s spiraling horn could serve you no justice.
Surely, the winged stallion,would save you with its robustness.
Imagine you come across the Dame Blanches
She is ghostly and beautiful. She wears white.
She urges you to dance.
You’d better dance like a joyous, pink pig,
for your life, literally, depends on the jig.
Suppose your village is going through a drought
Do not forget about the airavata,
the winged elephant who brings rain,
the villagers would likely suffer on your behalf.
The lot of you would eat nothing but dry brittle grass.
What if you come across the gremlins?
Surely they look horrid.
Do not keep them as a pet.
Do not, I repeat, get them wet.
Imagine the ogre stops you in your path.
Do not be afraid.
Ask them if they want a golden coin.
If you offer a piece from the treasure chest,
they will quickly help you on your quest.
Suppose the Valkyrie are tempting you with their charm.
They are beautiful warrior women.
Never let them get you into bed,
They will take your belongings, including your legs.
What if you have no means of travel?
The dragons will help you if you tame them.
They can fly you to new worlds.
Give them a poached egg and and a racoon tail.
They will usher you around like a precious king.
You can cruise the air with their beautiful wings.
Suppose invisible danger is what the day brings,
Do not step outside of the fairy ring.
Feb 22, 2019
Feb 22, 2019 at 4:23 PM UTC
your soul-
i can see it in slow motion.
the velvety paper wings, fragile.
the broken cocoon left behind.
fluttering- inaudible humming.
the scent of wing powder, the taste so sweet.
your purple soul. your aura sings,
her joni mitchell softness.
your pikes peak elevation, 14,115 feet close to heaven
yet so down to earth,
with your head in the clouds,
but not like an empty warlock.
the warlocks say all souls go nowhere,
but yours changes like the wind,
like the invisible treasure chest of eternity.
their jewels have no value here.
compared to the iridescence of your soul,
the sweet phoebes blatantly agreed, they’re priceless.
and someday when we travel the forests together
we will synchronize steps, heartbeats, and intertwine our beings.
with the arcane dirt beneath our feet
we become stained, yet tarnished not.
“dum spiro spero”, while i breathe, i hope,
the trees whisper, reflecting my desire, urging us together.
your butterfly soul will glimmer along the path.
Feb 9, 2019
Feb 9, 2019 at 8:11 PM UTC
no, i am not just beautiful
while straining to ship this vessel out to sea
every bow-swallowing wave engulfs me.
i guide the billows, they do not guide me.
i am solid but fluid through many faces,
many sails above me,
hard water below me,
crashing against my body, the posted iridescent mermaid.
waxing and waning below me, in only a fraction of time,
the wooden stiff movement in me, the glorious deity.
swell before me and the proud statement i make,
with my headdress and my steed,
i rarely meet defeat.
the waves thrash against my galleon.
i am a god.
i am a woman.
i am your leader who died in battle.
this battle will not **** me.
i am not just beauty perched on this prow,
i am power.
i am dancing hope.
i am parting the sea.
Feb 9, 2019
Feb 9, 2019 at 8:10 PM UTC