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Poetic T Apr 2016
He languished in the stocks but never was hunger
A problem. For he caught apples between his yappers,
Playing catch with each bite, it flew through the air
And once again a pinching of it till a stalk was left.
The crowd stood around in awe of his culinary
Performance, then they threw once again.

Released his time of languishing ended and returning
To his ship, "never slap the mayors wife's ****, he
Thought but who was he kidding he would do it
Again but next time not in front of him. She was where
He had left her, pride on his bearded features.
Daddies home, as his hands caressed her wooden features.

He went to his abode, lingering views of a picture
Of the oceans essence of high pitched waves. He pressed
Upon a singular spot and a secret revealed itself on his views.
A small casket, others would have seen it as a trinket box
Of lessened value. My precious thing of beauty that I hold,
I'll let you free when from port we discard the solid land.

The crew were pleased as the waves graced the ships bow
and the captain discarded his weavings of land lubbers
threads that clung to tight. Raise our flag my mates of
what is our nature true. Captain Black Heart Bart,
"Yes I know its a mouthful, but its my pirate #tag,
The chest came forth and with an even hand opened up.

The wisps clung to the captain as if a loving embrace,
my love, soul of the ship, lend us your breath to move
to our destination where the tides are silent and the
wind is death, motionless and soundless where ships
linger in a graveyard of wood and bones of the lost.
With a gesture the mists encircle the sails migrating forward.

Her breath kept motion where there would have been neither,
they stared at the wrecks of those lost in time. Were those
of white washed echoes, moving dead eyes following or
was it but the motionless reflection of the static seas grasp.
"Sir we see the place that her breath has taken us too,
"Thank you my love, you can now slumber, rest your breathe,

Upon the shores or blackened sand, they were called the
Remnant Tears, old lore said it was the tears of a lonely
god as he watched the sunset of his life, and these are all
that is left the residue of a time long past. They were sharp
as well, like jagged torn metal. We wore hadderned leather in
layers to save the blood from tearing from us as his did long ago.

We were home a shelter from those that would hunt us upon
ocean waves never did we take souls we just took material
things of value to sell, we melted precious metals, released
gems of equal sizes from their clasps, and in bowls they gleamed
of the suns rays ravishing the walls with a kaleidoscope of
colours that's changed with even shards of light gleaming through.


He sat on the crows nest of a ship, of older design than known,
made from not wood or metal another of majestic times long
faded into obscurity glance. Gathering thoughts on the mirrored
façade that never moved just like a reflection of above, one could
Be sent crazy in thought of which was land or sea, below or above.
He liked this illusion on his senses that was art to his perception.

Breezes of sea air rustled his beard and it was relaxing him
to slumber. but only when the waves graced him descending
into its eternal grasp would he rest these sea legged bones.
But now was the time to inspire the charmers below, with
a voice he greeted ears below. "Ya lazy dogs, move them bones,
And like mice they scurried to there hidey holes.

Nodding his head he discarded gravity as he plummeted to the
waiting deck below. Right or was that left no he was facing the
wrong way, she was playing tricks with her breath.  He burst in
to laughter and they nervously laughed with him, come on
my woman and men of the sea lets do some gentle persuading
that other relinquish there cluttered possessions to our ship.

With heart felt cheers they, sang their song to the stale winds,

"We're not pirates we be releasers of others greed,
"Possessions are who ever holds them be in cargo hold free,
"We'll never hurt you, we'll just gently nudge till you agree,

"Pirates that's a name we be called who we be,
"We be good looking, folks don't listen to history,
"We walked many a walk way plank to you and me,
"Yes I said we not above but that between you and me,

"Get done with the cutlass, respect the captains beard,
"We sail the high seas cos low ones make me sick,
"Trend setters of the ocean that's what we be,
"My flag is named skully, black & white he be,

"Pirates that's a name we be called who we be,
"We be good looking, folks don't listen to history,
"We walked many a walk way plank to you and me,
"Yes I said we not above but that between you and me,

Repeat and rinse sing what you feel, that's when I call upon
my beauty, "Awaken from slumber, breath to the wind,
And in to the great blue we sail, never a life have we took
never shall there be. For we are the new version of the old
but we will always win with her breath in front of me.

See you soon if to plunder I do mean, sail happy if your
not of greed and wealth or we will set our sights on thee.
The waves splash upon our bow, spray invigorate the souls
of all upon our beauty "The Wind Of The Sea, now ill
wish you good travels its time for us to earn our keep and
to visit those who need to lightened to heavy on the sea.
Leo Mar 2016
spill your glowing grace over me
let it bask my shoulders in golden light
i want to ascend to your mighty mountain
let rest a thorny crown upon my head
then must great kings kneel at my sight
and forever live in heavenly youth
Testor Mar 2016
Paint your morning blossom cheeks
A darker shade than the night.
Poke holes in your funeral clothes, darling;
Let the angels and their hallowed ****** light
Leak from your pores like ichor.
Heaven's colors never quite reach far down enough
To make a drunken god's eyes see
In more than black and white.

And we the primordials will be pagan still
As we fix the mistakes of youth divine
That fool was too busy splicing himself threefold
To see humanity fall apart
Under the rotting crosses they erected for his sake.
tamia Mar 2016
I hear your lyre cries
I hear your grief and sorrow
I hear your love for me.

You refuse to listen as they tell you
That I am too far beneath the surface
Trapped in the clutches of death's flames.

My beautiful minstrel, no longer incandescent
Do you think Apollo would be proud of what you've come to?
You roam around with your lyre of gold,
Yet you have killed your flame for love lost.

I miss the way you enchanted all of Greece with your melodies
You now make the gods and goddesses weep in pity;
You make the flowers wilt and die of sadness,
You make even the sirens wail of broken heartedness as
they drive away the sailors who were once enchanted by them.

Do you see the beautiful might of the songs you sing?

O Orpheus, listen to me when I tell you to stop searching for me:
Do not enter the caves and traverse the darkness once more
A darkness you are not meant to be in,
Darkness you are too precious for.

I hear your lyre cries
I hear your grief and sorrow
I hear your love for me
And I am sorry I could not come back with you...

But listen now, my love
Although you long for me still
I am now the only thing in your world
That your music cannot bring back to life.
from eurydice to orpheus
Izzy Mar 2016
We set out on our journey, that one fateful day
The winds of ****** shrieking angrily above our heads, filling our sails
Our ship tossing from Poseidon’s restless sea, sending us astray

As our journey wore on, and as night soon fell  
We found ourselves awash upon the Isle of Gael

Venturing from our ship, now sunken
We were met with fearsome creatures, their faces twisted and scarred

Escaping from death, daylight soon broke
The sky turning grey
The thunder rolling in, showed the might of Zeus
His anger flickering with jagged lightning, bringing tales of what once had been

A guide approached us, his face sunken and pale
He begun to tell us the fears of the Earth
A time when titans roamed and the mountains burned

As he finished his tale
He stood and led us through to Mother Gaia’s fortress
We walked, hearing Polyhymnia sing her chorus

The art lining the walls, long forgotten
Depicting tales of battles raged long ago
Between the family that ruled
Four elements would battle for control, the throne would be held by the mighty Zeus

Our journey had soon begun to close
We had learned the history of our past

As we returned home, our minds alight with new history
We found the battles had not ceased
We dragged our travel worn bodies upon the shore
Only to have to fight for our lives once more

As our battle on ground wore on, the gods became angry
The mountains rose up and the tides crashed
Sending the world into darkened chaos once again
We would fight the never ending battle
Until all the wrongs were righted
ThatSynGirl Feb 2016
It seems to me that Myths exist to put the mind at ease. It substitutes as reason for phenomena like these:
Why thunder booms
Why lightning strikes
Why the sun is gone at night
They ease our questions lending fears and banish out our fright.

Myths give life to many Gods
Who's lives compared to ours are odd
Some bring the sun to sky in day
Some ferri souls who've passed away
Some tend the earth, whom we call Mother
Some far more fair than any other

You ask me can these myths be true?
To decide my friend, that's up to you.
I wrote this for a Philosophy class. The assignment was just to write a bit in our journals on this topic, but why pass up an opportunity to rhyme?
Knights Feb 2016
She was delicate
Untouchable
She was fragile
Yet unbreakable

No other feeling
Could compare
To the way I felt
When I was with her

Between heaven
And earth suspended  
We were even
Our time was expended

Oh to those were the good times
She is now long gone
What was once delicate
And had it's rarity shone upon

This others you call mortals
Because to them you were a god
But I knew you weren't perfect
I knew you were flawed

But once you saw me
For what I truly was
my monstrosities
And all my flaws

That is who I was
That is who I am
You casted me away
Your love was a sham

You casted me away forever
Banished me in to the darkness
For centeries of eternal despondency
Nothing but complete blackness
Pauline Morris Jan 2016
In the land of Gods and Monsters I am a fallen angel living in the garden of evil
Every creature there is ruled by needs that are primeval
With broken wings, broken heart, broken life
Living on the edge of a knife
One wrong step will be my last
Long ago my die was cast
Every night the monsters attack
Of my soul they make a snack
The Gods look on and laugh and point
I cry, I plead, but they will never anoint
I'm lost, I'm scared, but I'm trapped I can go no where
And there is nobody that loves or cares
And of all the wrong to me that's been done
Being left all alone is the most tragic one
Syiera Rose Jan 2016
Oh thine hearts beat one by one. Never forget that.
For thy hearts never will be different.
Even if they beat for reasons that differ.
Oh thine eyes water one by one.
One for hurt, one for joy.
Hurt for the one you loved may not have seen.
Joy for the gods who lift you up and let your soul continue to be.
I write all my poems. If you want to use my writings, I ask you to ask my permission or at least inform me that you will be using them.
It is the least you can do.
Thank you.
Jo Baez Jan 2016
If I could cut the pieces off this so called god's flesh & feed it to the poor, I would.
So they wouldn't starve or grow hungry again.
If I could sever this so called god's bones & distributed to the homeless, I would.
So they could built a home & shelter themselves from agony.
If I could carve out this holy gods heart & organs, I would.
So I could commence humanities peace surgery.
I'd  free all humans from this disease called unconditional war & misery.
If I could encapsulate this divine god's tears, I would.
So I could spread them like rain & heal humanities pain.
If I could... I would... But sadly I can't.
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