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red door and lemon tree; breathe for me
my heart of gold is quite a
currency; can’t you see?
he was no dragon
flames sweep my icy mane but his hand felt the whip grow
oh-so-hot; I know that smell
keratin-laden lemons part the sand,
give you life till they’re
hollow, then we’ll go;
he was no dragon but a waking fiend,
growing ill; I’m
seventeen and searing still;
by day, I’m their lilac-eyed abolitionist, their metallic metonym,
their mother, and we all ache for redolent citrus;
red door and lemon tree; set us free
by night, all doors are black and my
tears crater the sand;
one day you'll
carry me home
dany's a mess sometimes but I love her so far.

I do not intend to add anything to the GoT universe. This piece was merely an analysis of Dany's story arc in the form of poetry.
All places and characters described belong to George R.R. Martin
Skaidrum Jun 2015
.
Ancient games
tell tales of dust.  |||   A story drawn
from the lips of two poets.



~~~~~


It's the wits that ****, not Queens of ivory or ink. *
Charged with
coal strokes, scraping up the lies.
Pawns & Knights slip between the grasp of the sun, leaking into
   lion jaws of Leo.
Shifting these granite plates, ignoring the Rooks common price of aslant.
Here we have slain kin, crescent traitors that backstab the night and battlefield.
Closed doors and trap floors, trade me a tie, swindling your tactic ruts.
Reality never got the noose around our necks, check turned into manslaughter, and kingdoms ripped asunder by the roar of Jupiter
Get up, get up, get away from these liars, they can't have your rank or your fire.
Peak a notion, this match is spared by a luft.
Toss away the pride buried 'neath your dusty skin, it don't matter no more if   death has you by the lips.
Silence is a language too in our eyes of earth.
Take my hand, knott your soul into this downfall, and brace yourself for the wreckage in our bones.
The Sword of Sorrows will fall 'pon your shoulders, not to slay thee, but to dub thee a new day.
The drums of war will knit the lyrics in the sky,
singing:
"The mighty sharpen their fangs, the weak sharpen their wisdom"
~~~~~
I'm tired of your wishbones, and golden scales, give me the hard-earned truth.
Hot coals of honesty may you tread upon, shadow-bitten remorseful may you be, don't stray off the course of Ursa major.
The North star isn't the one I follow
It's the moon with all of it's phases,
Eclipsing and crescent, tipping the sky with it's beauty.
Now let this sink further than any soul has ever sunk,
no man could ever
rule the moon.
~~~~~~
Shoot on command,
C
h    
      e
c  
      k
m
a
t      
e

~~~~
You could drag me to hell and back and those words wouldn't mean anything.
Let this downfall become a *downfell,

Because last I checked
"Wolves worship the moon"
and I have broke it's reflection in the water
Just
by
throwing
s                    
t          
o
         n
                 e
                              s
                               ­        .

.
A collab between
The Dragon Prince & Skaidrum.

I'll give most credit to
Kalum here.

© Copywrite The Dragon Prince & Skaidrum
Tammy M Darby Aug 2018
The yearning gentleman journeyed near and far
Hoping to acquire his long-sought heart's desire
Pictures carefully painted from a copy of a euphoric time
A multitude of young memories drawn from an aging mind

From storybooks he conjured up the delicate princess and the pea
Next came the white-eyed fairy beauty sailing deep lavender seas
Red headed was the other with eyes of fire
Nought satisfied his slowing blood
And hearts desire

Life with a light kiss
Sprinkled upon him a touch of madness and sublime
Flung before him mountains with invisible peaks to climb

Sympathetic were the gods in their mercy
In forever withholding the knowledge
Alas there were no princesses to rescue
And no more fire breathing dragons

All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M. Darby Aug. 8, 2018
Twelve years a slave
I worked down my chains
Hauled off my plantation
On an underground train

Got sweat in my blood
And tears in my sweat
I paid the price-tag
I conquered my death

Magic follows me
Wherever I stand
You don't have to believe me
I am more than a man

Evolution happens
To not everyone
You can't take it
Or leave it

You can't
Try to
Outrun it

This planet is
Changing
Falling back
Rearranging

The Ancient's
Are speaking
The trees are
All singing
If anyone's
Listening

Preparing the way
For another
Coming
...
Don Bouchard  Apr 2018
Dragons
Don Bouchard Apr 2018
Straying wayward, walking home,
I left the narrow path and wandered off alone
Just past the trees along the edge and up a dusty hill;
I found a cave there hollowed and felt a sudden chill.

Down through the dirt and leaves I crawled into the cave
To see if there were pleasure there to make me crave.
I caught a scent of danger, almost a living thing,
But as I backed up quickly, I touched a leather wing.

Upward rose a serpent head; tiny eyes glowed red
My backing self was scooting now, and I was filled with dread.
"My friend! You've nothing here to fear!"
"I'm just a little dragon, not even fifty years."

Into sunshine came he then, less fearsome in the light
To bring me pause from tumbling off in fright.
An hour later, carried on my back,
I took a baby dragon home, hidden in my pack.

"If you don't mind, I'll need to hide," my new friend said.
"I'll stay here in your closet, and I'll sleep beneath your bed."

Soon our friendship blossomed as secrets often do,
I'd off to school each morning, then run right back at two
To meet my baby dragon and get to know him more,
Still hidden from my family behind my bedroom door.

One day while I was off to school, I heard the siren sound.
Smoke rose above the treeline on my family's side of town.
When I arrived, my home was ash; my fiery friend was gone.
Now I know that little dragons grow to burn us down.
Work in progress.... Meditation on the secret sin of Achan, Joshua Chapter 7
Sam Vaghi Sep 2015
There are many unseen dragons that torment me in this life

There is a tiny dark creature
with a vicious forked tongue  
Who crawls behind my ear
and twists a barbed tail around my neck.
It whispers bitter words and
noxious notions that dissolve
my sense of self-
That make me believe
I am nothing
Unwanted
worthless,
Talentless
and pointless.


There is the sleek silver beast
Which laughs as
Sharp blooded claws and rapier teeth
cut and rip at my flesh
Guided by my own hand

There is the fiery flash
That ravages my mind to rage
And fight
And destroy those close to me
And the things I hold dear

There is the red heart eater
Who eyes glow brighter
As it steals the joy
And the pleasure
From the things I do
And from the magic moments in life

There is the grotesque malformed nightmare,
That drips sickly slime
And pumps putrid poison into the air
As it breathes heavily on me
And whittles away my will,
Drains all my energy
Until I can barely breathe
Or get out of bed

Then there is the great beast,
Of whom I only know eyes
Darker than the blackest night,
A despair that seeks the quickest end
That teaches my surrendering soul
To long for the final sleep
First draft
yovanny andres Sep 2018
how could i ever forget your words about dragons & nature
when the autumn comes, it all comes back to me
how you and i were both filling ourselves with drugs
in two story's apart
in a city at night, where the autumn leaves we're stroling through the streets
where i first met you, talking, smiling, smoking,
looking at me
time will eventually find you, and cut you right open
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