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Arjun Tyagi Nov 2015
Windswept dunes
Sprawled
Across the desert floor
The jade of the grass, rotten

Tylmarris's Temple
Lonesome, haunted
An abode of ancient magick
Abandoned but not forgotten.

A solitary shroud
Of ink black reflection
Silhouettes
The pale moonlit windows.

The air whispered
Of Sorcery
Bones and runes in patterns
Drawn from hidden doors.

Drawn across the aeons
When summoned
At times fruitful, at times treacherous
Devastating yet sublime.

The power of the spirits
Was not for all to tame
Less even to mock as
He was about to this time.

The warlock crouched
Over his beloved's corpse
A silent prayer to Tythryll
To return her whence he took her from.

Unanswered again
He mused in sorrow
Four hundred and twenty days in misery
He had now mourned.

A gnarled hand he rested
On her chest
Her skin peeling to reveal bones
Like pearls emerging from pink sand.

A withering smile still
She wore
In her final moments with him
When Death made its stand.

He spoke in Kuthanese
Her name in her tongue
Her true name.
Naírillia.

Daughter of Sand
Keeper of Terralyn's visions
Desert Witch
Touched by the God himself, as a Seer.

With clenched fists
Raised in a fashion
To receive the wrath of the Death God
He stood over the pentacle.

His betrothed beneath
Encumbered in a nexus
Of his safety
As he set to do the impossible.

Tythryll! He bellowed
In a voice born of rage
Despair
Of angst to have his love back.

Seven and seventy limbs
Broke free from the soil
Reaching skywards
In the earth, a giant crack.

Green auras of spirits
Distantly growled
as a mortal
Dared to raise a finger at their Master

He had provoked the very God
To answer to his call
Such was the grief
Of the bonecaster.

The Immortal then descended
Into mortal realm
Tythryll's brow aglow with fury
Of the underworld.

His headless horse neighing
A pirouette from his eternal saddle
To arrive before the temple gates
Hurling thunderbolts.

The warlock called upon
Eknarak, the mountain devourer
As his Ascendant foe
Locked eyeless sockets with him.

The mountain parted
A ridged back, the spirit's face
Colossal, faceted at every angle
Awoken from slumber deep.

The world sizzled
And blazed like some devious
Flash in the sky.
A battle not to be seen.

For innumerable heartbeats
They raged against another
Primal sorcery slowly
Straining the God.

More and more, the warlock
Let loose all spirits of the land
Till finally, a leg of two feet
Pinned the God down.

Wait! His eyes showed fear
For the first time since it's creation
What do you want?
What was wrongfully taken, he whispered.

Tythryll glanced toward
The petite corpse
Sneered.
This is what you fight for?

A hidden dam of helplessness
Broke as all his magic
Was released by the Warlock
To save her.

His body convulsed
Even as it split open midway
Revealing an empty shell
But filled with contempt.

At his command
The earth smiled
A deep chasm that glittered
Showing precious rocks and fire.

A horde of corpulent spirits
Rushed the God to the core.
As the warlock himself
Barely finished the spell whole.

The temple, the sand, the wind
All were ****** into
The cavity, lolling its hungry tongue
To consume all.

Three moons passed
Not a soul,
Would, across the plains,
Now dare to cross.

A change of seasons
Quelling of Earth's lust
Full with the power of a God
The chasm healed itself.

A hand from the soil raised
Clutching at air, nails biting
The black earth, its grip maintained.

Inevitably, an arm appeared.
The beginnings of a torso.
The torso of a being
Who was thought to be dead.

Naírillia, earthborn
She rises in the midst of where
Her love battled
Died.

Hair, as full as a Wickan Horse
Her strength to match an ox.
The ravished skin was no more
bones and soft marrow.

She tottered, stepped ahead
And slipped
Her face beside a ring
Engraved were some words
In her tongue.

I love you.
The day of your birth has now begun.
Tryst Sep 2015
What Hope Remained?

What hope remained when hope for hope was spent?
        When putrid plumes dulled morning into night
        Hope lived in heart-struck deeds of bold intent,
        As mortals wept and earthborn angels went
        With downcast eyes to clamber heavens height.

What hope remained when hope for hope was spent?
        When panicked sirens wailed a lost lament
        And backs were bowed beneath ungodly weight,
        Hope lived in heart-struck deeds of bold intent
        As boots bore souls up treadmills burnt and bent
        To scale a void devoid of dawning light.

What hope remained when hope for hope was spent?
        For those in sight of angels heaven sent
        Atop the world to aid their mortal plight,
        Hope lived in heart-struck deeds of bold intent.

        When wingless brethren conquered feared ascent
        To gift last hope to all who saw their might:

                What hope remained when hope for hope was spent?
                Hope lived in heart-struck deeds of bold intent.



In The Fall

I chanced upon a stranger in the fall,
Cosmetic garb of office black and white
Portraying calm demeanor of his plight
As shadows panicked on a stricken wall,

And oft' I find my mind in numb recall
To look upon that helpless human kite
Who tumbled from the terrors of a height,
Yet graceful as an eagle in a stall

Before it plummets earthward --   'Neath the pall
Of twisted steel rended by follied flight,
That stranger lives forever in the light
Suspended in iconic timeless sprawl.

        I wonder, in the briefness of his fall,
        Did he derive the meaning of it all?
What Hope Remained: In memory of the three hundred and forty three firefighters of FDNY that fell on Tuesday 11th September 2001, who fought without hope to bring hope to the lost.

In The Fall: Dedicated to "The Falling Man" of Tuesday September 11th 2001, in memory of him and those like him who chose the manner of their own end, when the only choice on that day of days was how, not if or when.
Jas Citrine May 2014
My soul is trapped within
this room.
A bit strange and yet so familiar.
Or so I see.
It’s amazing how much
of a mistake
I am.
Just want to forget,
but can’t.

Do you see the scars?
I can

Within this shattered heart,
a victim.
A tiny locket all its own.
Devoid of feeling for me.
It’s amazing how much
of a mistake
I am.
Just want to forget,
but can’t.

Do you feel pain?
I can.

My voice is lost within
the echo.
It’s all around me, but
What I hear is not really me.
It’s amazing how much
of a mistake
I am.
Just want to forget,
but can’t.

Do you hear the harp playing?
I can.

Upon these unloved lips
blood drops.
A familiar earthborn tang of deception.
It I can taste.
It’s amazing how much
of a mistake
I am.
Just want to forget,
but can’t.

Do you taste salted tears?
I can.

My birth is sweetened citrus,
a boy.
Citrine and earthy.
An aroma of anguish.
It’s amazing how much
of a mistake
I am.
Just want to forget,
but can’t.

Do you smell the rain coming on?
I can.

Can you write in the dark?
I can.
[by Jas Citrine; Submitted May 25, 2014; Copyright 2014]
Homer Jul 2018
"We the people", have the definition of Humanity all wrong...

It seems that people think humanity is about how humans treat other humans or animals...with kindness....
No this is not Humanity.

The first and primary definition of Humanity, is the state of being human.

A Human, is an earthborn mortal.

People, is defined as, a GROUP of humans linked or assembled toward a common interest.

Humans DONOT and NEVER DID exist for Humanity.

Humanity exist for Nature.

Nature exist for Humanity.

Natrue, is the physical world and everything in it(such as plants, animals, mountains, oceans, stars, etc.) that is not made by people.

NOW, think about all the things that people have created.
Why did people create them? What is the common interest?
Was it necessary? Most of all... Is it Natural or Human?
derick gibbs May 2014
All Hours of the Night
you get it by now...
I'm no ordinary dude
I'm the Guardian
I vouched for you
and if I don't make you accountable for this mess;
you were quick to stick the puppies face in it
because she's gotta learn right "you know how ******* get"
a moment of weakness you've called it
crawling back now on the same bended knee
you take to to pray about it...
on the same bended knee you take to to take him
and you kiss your kids with that mouth
how irresponsible it would be of me
to not post your offenses
tough love
or tough talk
which one are you
I'ma go with my gut
because you said to... I'm paraphrasing
"always take a ***** at her word"
we set better examples here
so I'ma put your nose in the wet spot
and as for your performance;
I gotta give it up
kudos
standing o
but I can't wait around for the encore
and I can't wait to write your review
and now when it's aching
and everything smells like me
clenching won't do;
fistfuls of your bed spreads
feel like your back is breaking
but no more O's for you
miss it
All Hours of the Night
you're supposed to
do you miss him like that too
oscar - nominee
my crown is your crown now
that's how we felt we were supposed to get down
for the rest of
however long the rest of
turns out to be
there's never been a language ever spoken
or scripture ever inked on how we move
because it's a given here
where we quietly defend the dynasty
inside these gates
outside ourselves
and between me and the walls
haven't you been nervous for no good reason
haven't you missed the butterflies
because you still can't wait to see me
we came in undersized
but your crown was my crown now
because you know good and well
that's my breath
when a breeze leaves just a tease of warm air
under there
and because you love butterflies
wasn't *** better than ***
fascinating **** huh… me
like you didn't know before now
and now that yearn
can't be made well by any earthborn figure
outside these gates
or inside you
and only between me and the walls
there's been no language assigned
we still can't pronounce it
but it's called love no matter your accent
or if you speak in tongue
fight it
All Hours of the Night
it's tiring
and you're weak
I give it a week
before you come crawling back
on the same bended knee
you take to pray about it
and to take him
you kiss your kids with that mouth
I am no ordinary dude
I'm the Guardian
I vouched for you
codefendants
love is war
I thought you understood our plight
I have to make you accountable for this mess;
you gotta learn "you know how ******* get."
how irresponsible it would be of me
to not post your offenses
tough love
or tough talk
which one are you
it's okay to miss me
you're supposed to
do you miss him like that too...
our puppies name was layla. they were always at odds
Kylie Loth Feb 2015
Kooky
Young
Lazy
Imaginative
Earthborn

Likeable
Open minded
Tempered
Hopeful
Brandon Cook Oct 2015
Stepping out for a midnight snack
As its stomach roars like a lion
Taming the jungle
As it stalks it's prey
With adrenaline pumping

It smells and sniffs
An alluring scent
As sweet as honey
It's hunger enraging it
Like a stone cold killer

Licking and smacking
It's lips as it lusts
Over the smell of blood
Quenching an uncontrollable thirst
As it's prey gets closer
All humanity disappearing

It hears the feint heartbeat
Of another as it grows nearer
The temptation grows stronger
As the lust looks for an outlet

Crouched like a lioness
Hunting down a gazelle
Readying to pounce
Willing itself to stay down
Coiled like a viper
Ready to strike

The sweet scent
Daringly close
You could almost taste it

It starts to snarl
Barely audible
Not a creature could hear
Not even a mouse

the sweet scent
So close its tangible
It's eyes narrowed
It's head cocked
Like a loaded gun
Daring to fire

rummaging it's paws
Into the earthborn soil
Sizing up its prey destined to pounce  
It billows it's growl
To a narrow roar

Coiling back
Latching it's claws into the earth
Lunging
Letting out an earth-shaking roar

The chase was on
As the hunted bolted
As did the carnivorous apex predator
It's instincts honed in to the prey
The creature heard the heartbeat
Of its dinner
Grow denser
Grow harder
Grow faster

The predator smirks
The enemy grows weaker
Dodging trees
Jumping rivers

It knows if it makes one mistake
It'll be all over
As the hunt veers a left
The stalker flanks it

With a final lunge
It's jaw meets the jugular
Of its dinner
The prey squirms and whines and wails
Then silence

A sickening crunch
Breaks the deadly silence
The chase is over
Who decides what historical events adorn
textbooks students read,
     hence a starry notion born
grew up while

     this lumpenproletariat day dreaming,
     Asian aw shucks husky
     husbandry furrowed brow gritty farmer
     barnstorming across

     expansive fields of baby
     (barely) barley corn
crib bed crop 'pon harvest time,
     (an maize zing genre), especially
     when enriched with humus

     laden loamy muck cob bra,
     then aye delightfully
     trumpet from dehorn
of good 'n plenti kernel Sanders gave me

     saluting rank and file fool's capped
     fecund fashioned earthborn
dunce sing tassels,
     versus growing seasons gone by,

     when draught of ideas forlorn
despite futilely blowing on my flugelhorn
high and dry reap peat head paltry yield,
     asper when this strapping chap

     a sweaty backed greenhorn
pondering why agrarian laborious life of toil
     omitted as part and parcel of "newsworthy"
     posterity sagas deeming

     shenanigans of highborn
and/or "FAKE" headlines crowd inborn
noble folks,
     who grease palms of industrialists,

whose quaking self importance
     thwarts aside rural cosseted
     krummhorn grounded bumpkin mor'n
     how kapellmeister coaches bourgeoisie

helping determine
     zero absolute value of newborn
fated to slave away
     till body electric outworn,

yet paradigm shift of
     (butter late then ever)
     jiffy popcorn version
sown by seeds of Jethro Tull,

whose bonhomie with brio didst reborn
agricultural revolution took root,
     whence before long some did scorn
and lamented machinations

     ordered simple existence ripped and torn,
where antithetical views suppressed
     and unto revolutionaries
     became legion and well-worn.
Twenty two years ago
     December twenty second,
two thousand eighteen
"star student" born
this papa (and most
     likely thee birth mother)
     initially felt ecstatic,
dramatic (yes frenetic),

and careworn
as freshly minted parents,
     but gifted with a daughter,
     whose existence far
more precious
than any Earthborn
rare widgets, gewgaws,
gems, et cetera, despite

     evoking unsolicited,
unpleasant, and
unmanageable forlorn
communication "dirt poor"
     living (at least ten years
    of wretchedness at 1148
Greentree Lane) unable
to toot our horn,

cuz unbearable, undesirable,
     unforgettable, et cetera,
     and manifold challenged,
when beloved Shana
Punim evinced inborn
developmental delay,
     (which severe electric
     cool aid acid test

     patience of this father),
     much more difficult
than playing krummhorn,
now after tendering the trials

     and tribulations, an
     amalgamation of
     poignant affects,
     whereat your
     permanent presence...
(must never NOT precede mine),
cuz..., I would definitely mourn,
your absence, thus felt the timely

     opportunity to dash off
     a birthday poem to you
     in tandem with sharing,
     (while comfortably numb
and figuratively licking war
torn psychological wombs) - torn
and ripped, queued,
peppered natty psyche

pockmarked with scorn
from self, (and those lives,
this dada immediately
impacted) particularly
your person roar'n
with cumulative anger toward
     this insightful fellow,
(who claims to know

what thee feel toward me),
especially when ****
hours of valuable
     time, now caught
(say, eh...approximately, fraught
upon the half life of rare Earth
element Eden), not
just strictly naught

heard thru the grapevine,
     but forcing Math (hew)
     analysis, via meditation, poetry
     writing therapy, et cetera.
-     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -    
Hence...I apologize,
asper unasked for pain wrought
thee, sans being unemployed,
demeaning "mother Abby,"
bumbling, horrid house

keeper (Hagrid himself,
would turn down invitation),
plus Facebook fiasco,
imbroglio, and loco
motive - complicit in behavior
-     -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -
comparable to *******,
yet please let me conclude
by admitting total lack
of wherewithal.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR DAUGHTER!
Michael Sep 2019
No, I am perfect, how can you not see
Sometimes I feel like you are not listening to me

Have you met me? I'm perfect, I say all the right things
I'm an Earthborn god, an angel waiting for wings

I'm a hero, I always stand for what's right
I'm the example to follow, a beacon of light

But the person you describe, he doesn't sound so great
He sounds like a small-minded self-centered intellectual primate

He sounds like he doesn't follow the ethics he preaches
He thinks he can walk on water, but he best stick to beaches

I hope he's trying  to improve, to learn, to grow
What did you say his name was? ....oh.
Travis Green Aug 2021
He was never too young for me
He was a perfect age I craved
With a euphoric voice I adored
Luxurious, touchable black hair
Unbeatable swag game that speaks
To my inner existence in unstained ranges

He was my delicate and loving muse
Filled with superrific intellectualism
Artlicious collections, perpetually
Poetically ******, vibalicious anthems
So vidalicious as they flow through his brain

I drank him in like a fish
Absorbing his earthborn effulgence
His pure gold floetry, flowetry freedom
In sweet infinite equilibrium, blisserrific
My amazinglicious, driptastic prince
Travis Green Mar 2022
I want a showy soldier boy like you
Spectacular street swagger
Yellow mellow soul king
Streaming supreme sereneness
Dreamy dangerous kryptonite
Bright colored ardent charmer
I desire to delight in your rhapsody
Feel your hot and burning fervency

Take me to the peaks of tender loving dreams
Where your relishable heavenly masculinity
Gives me immaculate smashing sensations
You are a vibrant dashing display
Of immensely quintessential art
An infinite sensational space suffused
With smooth soul music

I wanna be your serene theme
Teeming with sleek sensuality
Your passionate mathematics
Your unadulterated stellar equations
Of unbounded affection
You make my body rise
With your every enticing touch
Upon my embraceable body

I hanker to ascertain your divine science
And hypnotically brilliant history
Linger in your superlatively immersive literature
Your gleaming kinetic kingdom
Listen to the magic of your voice
Take glory in your euphoria
Your earthborn gorgeousness

— The End —