There was a kingdom by the sea
that had a name
but most called it just
The Pearl of the Coast,
because that is what it was.
The riches within the city walls were more than an outsider could fathom,
and a bustling economy promised to keep it that way.
The Pearl had been led for half a century
by a wise King
and a just Queen.
Between them, they had one daughter,
who was pretty enough to truly count as one of the riches of their city.
Suiters came from far and wide, hoping to get
just
one
glimpse
of her fair beauty
before the fickle girl brushed them off her shoulders like mosquitoes.
It had no true spoken enemies,
for the walls and army were too great to conquer
but riches
bring dark men
to plotting and scheming.

There was a band of other kingdoms-
all prosperous, but not quite as much so as the Pearl
who were jealous and greedy
and coveted the jewels of the Pearl
all for themselves.
They would plan together,
but none could quite figure out how to get past the huge walls
and the spears of the watchmen.
But once, to their conniving company came
a Dark Magician
feared all around for his power and his wit.
These Kings of lesser kingdoms, though,
they saw only and opportunity to be seized.

They promised the Magician a share of the riches
if he would help them bring the Pearl to its knees.

The Magician, after little consideration,
obliged.

From their greed, he fashioned a Homunculus
shaped it like a handsome young man
more handsome than anyone could be born as
and sent him to the palace.
The Princess was vain and swept off her feet
by this new young man
and soon took to calling her.
There was one, though, who saw through him.
Perhaps it was his own jealousy that cleared his eyes,
but a young Sorcerer,
the closest friend of the Princess,
and the only man who had ever loved her truly,
warned of the Homunculus.
The Princess, smitten, was outraged.
The warning given by a friend only encouraged the relationship,
as those things often do
for children love to see themselves as Star Crossed Lovers
and the fickle Princess estranged herself from her oldest friend,
though the Sorcerer stayed loyal.

One night, however,
the King and Queen,
who themselves were quietly against the union,
were murdered.
The cause was clear:
Magic.
The guard turned to the Sorcerer,
for he had been turned down by the Princess,
and was, as they said, Hungry for revenge.
Only his past friendship saved his life,
and he was imprisoned in an empty tower a mile outside of the Pearl's walls.
He howled to be set free,
and the Princess would listen from her widow's walk.
Only when the howling stopped and was replaced
by a bitter silence
did her heart break.

After her marriage to the Homunculus
she started to wither
and hid herself in her chamber.
The guards would often see her wandering the grounds at night
wringing her hands and moaning in sorrow and paranoid fear.
"He might come back," she would whisper
and then burst into tears.
Often she was mistaken for a ghost,
and her parade of visitors slowly trickled to a stop.
Meanwhile, the Homunculus had taken control of the Kingdom.
He actually did more for the economy that the past King and Queen did,
for he had opened up trade with a shady band of kingdoms
that everyone had sworn that they had been in a Cold War with
just yesterday...

It had been nearly twenty years
when the Magician demanded that the band of kings
pay him for his work.
They had been ruling the Pearl from the shadows for some time now,
and he was ripe for his due.
The Kings' greed though had only inflated after they had their prize
as had their pride.
And they,
foolishly,
declined.
The Magician was outraged.
He called back his creation one day in March.

The Homunculus knew that the sword of Damocles was ready to drop,
and hastened in his escape
but
over the years
he had grown attached to his Queen
and it pained him to think of her suffering along with him.
He warned her himself
that the Pearl was to be destroyed spectacularly
and then he fled,
and she never saw his face again.

The Queen was horrified
and looked out over the people who she had neglected for twenty years.
No longer a beauty,
but a frightened old woman.
She knew what she had to do.
Grabbing her travel cloak around her,
the Queen rode as fast as she could
to the tower outside of the walls.
Her old friend was still sitting there,
chained to the wall.
Never had the woman seen such squalor, and it broke her heart all over again.
His hair was long and matted,
not peppered, but smeared with gray.
His robes were those that he had worn on the day he was taken away
crusted with filth.
The tower was falling down around him;
huge gaping holes where windows had been
mocked the poor Sorcerer
and the fireplace that should have been maintained by guards
was nothing more than smoldering coals.

The Queen fell to her knees and begged his forgiveness,
begged him to save the city that he had been shunned from.
But so many things about him had changed,
and all of the kindness had leaked from his eyes.
He rose onto his feet, and the rats skittered away.

"You fool!" He cried,
"I cannot save them!
The Magic coming has already been set in motion, and I,
I have not eaten more than rats and the dirt from the floor in more than twenty years.
I am hopelessly weak, with only the strength for one more spell. "
He grabbed the Queen's hands, the sorrow of his broken heart overshadowed by rage.
"You will watch this tragedy, for it is one of your own making!
I curse you so that you may never die,
never sleep,
not till you have worked the labors of every servant
of the world begins to burn!"
With that, he pushed the shocked woman aside
and, scrambling to the fire,
swallowed the hot coals
and died there in front of his betrayer.

The Queen could do nothing but watch
as the sky turned black,
and the sea rose up
and swallowed the Pearl.
The screams of her people were silenced quickly,
leaving her alone
with her thoughts
and the body of the only man
who had ever
loved her.

5 Sensory Deprivation Relevations  (Happy Birthday Will Shakespeare)


I     the smell of sad

odor colorless like *****, similar familiar sidewinder effects,
musty invasive, it has no specificity, no locale centrale, well closeted,
saddling saddlng, in place, plain sighted better to toy our lives,
pervades persists, worse lingers, impervious to sprays
and even everyone’s good literature (even Will’s)
good wishes good intentions and mood prayers
to the nearest lay god
on duty at the spiritual emergency room on weekends,
stink

don’t think that this poem is for you; solely for the writer,
your doppelgänger ******, your mirror’s inside hiding out place,
I, who has your sadness smell into my skin cells crept
waft woof and warp wet weft-woven
into the sad receptacles hidden in my
head’s cubbies and the palms of my tree hands-covering face

there are cures so wonderful and inexpensive but unavailable
at the local Rite Aid, though they are the right aid recoverable,
so closer than close, so close that the internist
cannot prescribe them because he must inject himself first
because the live bacteria in the antidote can **** all

this odor lays down bamboo-strong roots;
to eradicate you must dig down deep,
six feet perhaps more, with heavy earth moving equipment,
uproot at the source, follow sad always all-the-way down and the root
great god gone,
but the saddest truth
stench odor yet present

II    the taste of joy

the joy of cooking is not a gene in my litany possess,
but the buttery taste of joy I know, I know,
it’s a real princess rarity,
the hard costs of finding and keeping it,
I’ve paid endlessly and willingly pay on

the taste of joy is like presents under the tree,
shock surprises delights lives/life, customized, infectious
(except for socks, no matter how joyously exceptional),
joy to those whose buds never blossomed for its taste
readable on some one else’s, anyone’s ****** expression

I think of it as the taste of fast traveling cumulus whites
upon my eyelashes blinking as they are speeding you by, but happy
for ten more behind before the evening stars takes over

the taste of joy is physical, there can be no denying,
concentrations can be found in the lips and the fingertips,
which you think of as a tandem, someone else’s on mine

but it ain’t necessarily so; the taste of joy, shared I, having submitted to others kisses carried on the wind that
found their mark and were well received,
poems from the heart
that arrive well,
as their intended is sleeping, and
as intended, as waking gifts

the taste of joy in droplet tears
when you are notified that words
you joined in holy matrimony made you cry,
because the reader did, wept for two,
the weeping of contentment released,
free at last from container confinement;
this particular taste of joy is in the  
recovery and recognition that these
are not for you,
just joy peculiar these tasted tears for whomsoever sheds them

III   the hearing of truthful

truth am told is oft served cold and hard up for the hearing,
best avoided tween noon and midnight and any time a
bathroom mirror is in the vicinity; though religious men lie
too easily; bathroom mirrors cannot; a character flaw for sure,
but the truth to be trusted is this: no one is truly contented, always there are the richer, the more famous, the employed and
someone above who has more, more burdens of a different sort,
better quality losses and pains unseen not dreamed of

truth tastes terrible and is awful sometimes noisy painful;
it hides well in the stink of sad exposed to the atmosphere when exposed it turns red humans blue

truth may set you free, free to be what are you are or truthfully
an admission of what greatness you have to release the trick is
use the correct scale, do not let the wrong sized ruler rule you,
the truth, if you hear, hear it unfiltered w/o the bias implanted
by not your people; hear your poet voice growl like a blues singer and be truthfully satisfied like no thing no person only you could hear it as you intended it be spoken

IV   touches of fantasy fantastic
secret confess: touch my fav cause when its juiced with
mental visions of what might be, it Saturday satisfies and let me weep happy smile silly and is mine all mind; yes another’s tip
has sorcerer powers of revelation
but alone by myself I yet
relevate
and flow; my hands are right sized, my arms reach around myself for so designed, and the pleasure is mine to give;
mine to take,
neither better or worse if self-administered,
touch myself anywhere anytime and fantasy over dreams wins,
rise up, touch is a language and I speak six or a hundred;
listen to the sounds of touching and be touched human

V  insights for the sightless

at last we close the deprived
with an elegant elevation
sight overrated when imagination exists,
cannot be restrained
this the revelation
you have proffered and preferred all this time

have pity on me
I crystallize the unseen with the replacements
of my conjuring
the other senses lend a hand
telling me look up look up, be life save life
let your madness blossom in the spring airs,
the coolness of a first fingered ungloved snow
sight,
a mathematical function from the other four derived,
sightless an impossibility for with one alone defeat the
sensory deprivation and give tongues to words

epilogue

read my face
incapable of,
deprivation
but how now silent bow my head to Will
for teaching the way of words
traced upon
a fool or a king's tongue,
two too human,
so that poet may ken
his senses keener,
all for the better,
for the betterment of all

Isang mensahe na ipinapahatid ni "Ariii Potter" sa kanyang alaga na si "Hedwig" the Snowy Owl.


Sa naghihimultong pagmamahal ko sayo.

Mahal.. oo, mahal nga ang tawag ko sayo
Nagbunga kasi ang pagkagusto ko sayo,
Nagbunga ng isang pagmaMahal

Yung feeling na "gusto kita"
Naging "mahal na kita" real quick

Inakala ko talaga sa diagon alley ka lang gumagala
Eh bat ka na sorted dito sa puso ko

Bakit nga ba..

Patawad sa mga katagang sinabi ko, ay mali. hindi ko lang pala sinabi.
Ipinagsigawan ko pa. Ang corny no?

Pero...

Pagbigyan mo sana ako na ihatid ang mga salitang gustong ipabatid ng puso ko

Idadaan ko lang muna sa isang tula.
--
Umpisa.
Sa kung paano mo ako nginitian
At tinanong kung "potterhead kaba?"

Hindi ko alam kung ginamitan mo ako ng "petrificus totalus"
Dahil sa tuwing tinatawag mo akong ng"Ariii" na fre-freeze ang aking hypothalamus

Na halos masabog-sabog na tong pagmamahal na ihahantulad ko sa isang bulkan
Hindi ko man lang namalayan na umabot ito ng isang buwan

Pati na ang nakatagong pag-ibig dito sa aking damdamin
Ay sadyang naging malalim

Na kahit gumamit man ako ng salitang "alohomora"
Para mabuksan ang pintuan ng puso **** nakasara

Kahit maging seeker man ako sa quidditch
At ikaw ang magiging "snitch"
Hindi parin kita maka-catch
Sapagkat ang tayong dalawa ay imposibleng maging match

O makipaglaban man ako sa Wizard's Chess
Para makamtan ang iyong sorcerer's heart
Ay hindi parin sapat
Alam mo kung bakit?
Dahil hindi ako karapat-dapat
At ang karapat-dapat
Ay ang ika'y pakawalan
Dahil alam ko naman sa kahuli-hulihan
Ako parin ang masasaktan

Kaya salamat,
Salamat sa pansamantalang kilig
Sa tuwing ika'y nakatitig.

If it pleases the court
I wish to call my witness
I assure you he is pleasantly witless
And features you ask?
You needn't worry
He isn't the type that is tall and squirrely
And he isn't the type that is strong and burly
No, I admit he is a slight of a man
A crook in his back and
An un-healing wound for a hand
Stature shouldn't be a bother
For he isn't much bigger than even the smallest little toddler.

No, he wasn't much to look at but clever he was
He entered the court caring not for the faces of the smug
Why should he care? Why should he look?
He knew the judges falsified records and books
His word was useless so his tongue stood quiet
And none would know what was it he meant by it
Crooked he was, bent and broken

Broken and battered and beaten and bruised
Even he didn't know how much magic he'd used
A sorcerer he was, and a good one I'd wager
For he never shirked from harm or danger
To he so old and brittle
No one stooped to hear his riddle

With a crack of his back and a flick of his wrist
All his ailments went amiss
Twas he the king giant of legends old
Seven feet tall he stood so proud wreathed in the light of gold
Eying the bold
And scaring the crowd
With his mighty cape made out of his shroud

Come to place judgement on those unworthy
And rid his lands of those who wore their hair curly
Judges, Politicians, and Royalty alike
These pompous blights with their wigs powdered white
His voice so quiet, yet only at first
For he had not had need to quench his thirst  
Not for 300 or 400 years had his voice been needed here
With a resounding boom from he whom no one suspected
The one whom they had so unjustly subjected

Broken and battered and beaten and bruised he was
But not from violence or bathing the blood from wounds
His soul was what was sad and destroyed
The fiends of today had hurt this once glorious man
The frivolity, the slander, and general corruption
The crime, the ****, and societal destruction
Who were these "people" to have earned his blessing
Better they were hens stuffed with dressing
His land he had given to their ancestors of old
Yet a once weak people had grown so bold
"Who are you?" they asked
"And where did you come from?"
"I know, we'll take him to the dungeon"

"Silence vile sinners" said the giant of a man
resend these orders and bark back your commands
For it is I who is the ruler of these lands
From mother to daughter and father to son
I have seen your lives spread, grow, and bud
This is not the life I had planned for you all
Divine Right of rulers ordained by my cross on the wall
You have twisted and molded my laws and my trust
To suit your own needs and greed

To you all I take everything and send you back
Across the barren wasteland you've left in your tracks
Away from me and go quickly
I should rather have you leave my sight swiftly
It was then that his voice broke it's timbre
When he saw one so small blond and slender
"You girl, how is it that you are not frightened?"
Her response was firm as the wrath of a Titan
"Sir you scare me not by your words alone, for I have lived a life of beatings by stones"
Outcast for life, and ridiculed hourly
The giant chose to reward her powerfully
"You my daughter are your people's saving grace"
Watch them all leave now with pitiful haste
How was it that she, the spawn of a sinner,
could mend her race as a whole?
"I'll tell you my daughter, by the goodness of your soul"
Go now and start a city within my lands, and forever shall it remain in your kind gentle hands