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"griffins" poems
*There is a place that I go that exists within my mind. And when I'm feeling troubled, I can leave this world behind. On wings of gossamer I'll sail in airships made of mist to sparkling shores of diamond dust the golden sun has kissed. There are unicorns with silver horns and friendly dragons too. There's griffins, fauns and centaurs why, it's heaven's petting zoo. The rain falls gently on my face from tears the angels shed. And blessings from The Father fall like leaves on every head. I'll swim in lakes of lavender and also float upon my back. to see a glittering rainbow there with no colors does it lack. There is no evil in this place no envy, pride or hate. For if I wish admission there, I check them at the gate. I'm kin to every heartbeat and a soul mate to each star. And I'm never lost or scared for He's never very far. And everyone is family there the humans and the beasts. There is no ********** There's no "greatest" and no "least". Someday, I'll find thy solitude and there I shall abide. And I'll join the souls that I have missed upon thy mystic tide.*
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Aug 2, 2017
Aug 2, 2017 at 10:13 AM UTC
Heaven
Faith is mythical as lands devoured by sea, as griffins and goblins, in tangled daydreams. By these muddy shores, shipwrecks of hope. treasures and tales, unheard, untold. Tyrant needs sustain, their sadist chains hold dreamers of blue, and gold.
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Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 4:46 AM UTC
Daydreams
vampire bats are jumbo jets flying high with their six foot wingspan flapping through this heart of night stretching against the surface of the sky hiding the face of the sun yes, pitch black leather wings grabbing hold of space and time slicing through the thick of night slipping pass the House of Hades being guarded by gray ghosts griffins and gargoyles but somehow the Gothic moon stands her ground nor does she sleep a wink tonight letting go of fear and fright protecting the still of night knowing that the vampire bats possess infrared eyes to capture their prey
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Feb 13, 2011
Feb 13, 2011 at 7:16 PM UTC
The Gothic Moon
She lives in a Faery Tale World Odd from conception She never quite fit in Flawed and damage Her parents sought Others more perfect than she So she lost herself in Faery Tales and tried to live her life like a romance novel Always knights, Too many knights And well maybe not so shiny Dragons, Griffins, and Unicorns Yes, these were always part of her dreams Now the years have gone by but still Like Delta Dawn She wears her faded rose Looking for a love Looking for an acceptance that maybe, that maybe... Can only be found in Faery Tales and Romance novels Always on the outside Always looking in Wondering Always wondering Why, Why or what it is that is so unacceptable about her Even she thinks she 's odd Her head up in the clouds Searching for something.... Making impossible demands Living in her Faery Tale Land Living on the outskirts of reality She's an Echo, A Shadow of something not quite real Lost She just a Faery Tale Myth Real, but not....
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Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 3:30 PM UTC
Living in a Faery Tale World
My sky is red and pink and my clouds purple my sun is a scarlet and my breezes are filled with sparkles i guess you can say my world is magical cause the waters are filled sirens and hippicampi my lands filled with centaurs and brownies and the air has pegases and griffins my world is dangerous but beautiful to live in crystal waters that beckon u to dive in Glowy forests that hugs you tightly in and silvery winds with sparkles that taste sweet my world beckons you in,accept it as a treat
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Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 9:43 PM UTC
Fantasy Realm
It's time for an adventure Where and how is up to you With fantastic tales and creatures Where everything is new Just use imagination Pick a place nobody knows Add a creature you invented And let's see where the tale goes... Griffins, witches, warlocks Are in books upon your shelves In castles, caverns, forests With dragons, orcs, and elves There are unicorns and magic Things fantastic, born of old Leprechauns and fairies Guarding mystic pots of gold You can choose your own adventure Make them all do what you wish You can have birds with legs of lions You can have dogs with heads of fish The choice for each adventure Is yours and yours alone You can have a sword that glitters Or one that is stuck inside a stone Kings and Queens and Princes Fighting quests to win one's heart With three headed bearded lizards It's up to you just where to start A wall that moves at random Stairs that lead up to the stars Submarines and Narwhales Time travelling in cars An adventure full of wonder With a dog that sees through walls A cat who sees the future And a mouse who does duck calls The key to each adventure Is in the books, that you will find Give birth to what is hidden Deep inside your mind Add wings to a small pony And make a creature that now flies Add snakes in places of fingers Try that one on for size Mother goose this isn't This is fantasy by you No one has set boundaries Just do what you can do
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Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 11:53 PM UTC
Fantasy work
well my mother loved to visit miss Peggy's place yes they talk about this and that but still Miss Peggy had several spaded black cats in her place and mother would ask her three young boys to come out and visit Miss Peggy's house unfortunately, i was the only one brave enough to say that i have a deep fear inside my chest and sing out then I said, mama i am really scare of those big black cats creeping around in Miss Peggy's house centurions guards and griffins along the halls and stairs, with marble red eyes and white Cheshire smiles and i cried, when mama said boy you come right over here and give Miss Peggy a nice big juicy kiss and a fat hug i finally screamed out loud and said mama i am scared of those big black cats in Miss Peggy's house and that Miss Peggy's has a black mustache around her mouth i could not walk through Miss Peggy's house no more.
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Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 5:26 PM UTC
Miss Peggy's House
I am a pirate pacing a quarterdeck before a battle. I am Adam beneath the apple tree waiting to bite into the New Order. I am a hopeful heretic praying for immolation but unable to strike a match. I am a corpse writing a will in blood and ***** I am a soldier watching a friend erupt in a fog of pink viscera. I am a madman twitching on a couch, forgotten in a corner of a windowless chamber. I am a hero slaying griffins, destroying dragons, ravishing maidens as my rightful reward. I am a lover to whom ladies open their thighs and abandon their honor, willingly. I am a tone deaf poet singing a defeated song. I am the amateur torturer carefully sharpening his instruments, but then unable to find meaningful work. I am a ****** priest hearing my own confession and finding it absurdly tedious. I am all of these impossible people. Who are you? - mce
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Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 6:53 AM UTC
Identity
Griffins are red, Ravens are blue, Your heart is the snitch, I chase on a broom. As time goes on, I'll remind you well, I love you. Always, The unbreakable spell. Love always -Erin
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Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 6:49 PM UTC
Untitled
For once, my soul is silent. Absent of the familiar griffins & phoenixes that ravage & terrorize my painted mind... For once, my soul is silent. Drinking in the muted opinions of this colorless world & allowing its comfortable tides to turn me a dull grey. The blue skies that once lined my lungs have now faded, Replaced by spray-painted nimbus. The 4 suns orbiting my Cordibus have betrayed their axes. Now dragged down by the weight of the very air that once danced in my being, Sinking to the singing earth that will one day shield my burning bones, I await my birth into a new existence. For once, my soul is silent.
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Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 12:18 PM UTC
Cut the Cord
I tread on faith and face my maker,unmasked and ruthless with the sad hat of the mad hatter on Where is my little apple? I did not ask to grapple with griffins and Sphinxes to win eternal wisdom I am the poor wretched hag hard to grasp or fathom from the nearby village who had but a slice of bread to devour Where is my apple? Somewhere in the depth of a valley or at the heart of a volcano? Are my broken wings supposed to cease fire or fly higher than the sun? Give me my apple, pampered idol! And go boast of your majesty.
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Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 6:56 PM UTC
The sinner
I am lost in a world where griffins fly and the faries flutter through the trees, I am lost in a world where mermaids inhabit the lake, where dragons are curled around mountains and magic is complete real I am lost in a world where I am free, a prince/ss that does not need saving because I have saved myself I am lost in my own mind, so please, do not disturb
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Oct 5, 2017
Oct 5, 2017 at 12:12 PM UTC
Where Griffins Fly
Scorching bullets Pass us by Like dancing faeries Around our heads You covered yourself Like a bullet proof vest Dragon's breath is unleashed Are we living among the dead? Or dead Among the living? Where wolves, griffins, and lions Retreat! But never surrender Bullets fly They want us Dead Or maybe Alive Who knows? Nothing Can **** us At all The enemy Will die Of certain heart attacks Shot With AK bullets God's will So is seared We can Do it all And rise above Our fears Deep within This blood Coursing thru our veins Lies the Hunter Among the hunted Those within This grove Are seeking Bullets To overload Among the safety We run, we hide, we search So that those of us here Will rise And never die Please cover Yourself Like a Bulletproof Vest!
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Jun 2, 2018
Jun 2, 2018 at 10:20 PM UTC
Like a Bulletproof Vest
I am a pirate pacing a quarterdeck before a battle. I am Adam beneath the apple tree waiting to bite into the New Order. I am a hopeful heretic praying for immolation but unable to strike a match. I am a corpse writing a will in blood and ***** I am a soldier watching a friend erupt in a fog of pink viscera. I am a madman twitching on a couch, forgotten in a corner of a windowless chamber. I am a hero slaying griffins, destroying dragons, ravishing maidens as my rightful reward. I am a lover to whom ladies open their thighs and abandon their honor, willingly. I am a tone deaf poet singing a defeated song. I am the amateur torturer carefully sharpening his instruments, but then unable to find meaningful work. I am a ****** priest hearing my own confession and finding it absurdly tedious. I am all of these impossible people. Who are you? - mce
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Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 8:37 AM UTC
Identity
Follow me far, far away, in search Of a mystic wonderland sublime, We'll find the map of ancient design, Lost through the ages of our time; The map is used in the spirit world, By goblins, elves, gnomes and fairies too, With a dozen fantastic places, Where human beings haven't a clue; Grinning griffins, cantering centaurs, Laughing leprechauns, dancing dragons, Hippogriffs, unicorns, imps and all, We'll find them in the magic gardens; Does this dauntless dimension exist? It sometimes appears in our dreams, We have to translate the secret signs, And follow the shining silvered streams.
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Apr 6, 2023
Apr 6, 2023 at 8:54 AM UTC
Magic Wonderland
It was Black Dog Night at the station, With a Black Dog caught in my hair, There were too many owls, there were shrieks and howls There was too much intolerance there. There were tales floating out and forgotten, There were stories that claimed to be hype There were nightmare things with handfuls of rings There were things too awful to type. There were nasties a-float in the darkness, There were Gorgons, that looked for a fight, There were these and more, and Griffins of yore That gave any sentence respite. In the dark, I could hear the farmer scream He’d just cut the throat of his wife, But the low of the cattle had masked her death rattle And the slash-slash-slash of his knife. There were monsters that sat on my keyboard, They were growling, and screamed ‘Let me in!’ But I pushed them away, and I cried ‘Not today,’ They were creeping right under my skin. Then a voice echoed up from the valley Where the darkest of dreams lay at rest, ‘You may type in the grail at the end of my tale If you’re sure that Milady is dressed.’ The night came and flew in the window, To block all the plots I had kept, It’s the Black Dog way, no story today For the rest of the night, barely slept. It was Black Dog Night at the station With the rails outside rusted through, But the Ghost Train came in the mist and the rain With a story, at last, that was true! David Lewis Paget
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Aug 27, 2016
Aug 27, 2016 at 11:31 PM UTC
Black Dog Night
Candlepins are only disguised pills the fall, counted. One by one, swallow. Repeat. Swallow. Swallow. Because spitters are quitters, right? Spit. It’s only good after cinnamon griffins scale your throat - comfort in knowing it’s over. Spit. If it’s bitter, spit. If it’s bitter you're too late. You should have warned me - the walls did. They breathe with me, twisting patterned. Because words are only patterns right? Subtract an “s” from a “t” - keep the “o” (only for yourself) Draw up “weak” to steal a “k” Steal permission. Breathe with the walls. Spit. Chew, choke, spit. Choke on the numbers. Steal. Emptiness, breathe. Bitter, breathe.
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Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 1:50 PM UTC
Spit
He used to run with scissors Now he creeps with a sharpie pen To keep canaries in suspense. And that beats a coal mine. Cause up close…. It’s almost personal. He can almost feel it Twitching in his enigma - Like a holy ghost Trying to kick. And nobody knows The deal with the shoebox Full of sharpies And all those black canaries Not to mention Duct tape. He keeps his griffins on a leash And he can’t seem to sleep at night. And He can’t even tell if it hurts… But he loves the way That it's so easy to fake it. And how anything is possible if everything burns.
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Jun 5, 2018
Jun 5, 2018 at 12:22 AM UTC
A Black Canary In Columbine
Pleasant is the day even when the land is coated in mist. Mother wind howls such breeze to the father sea, calling for its daughters to  retreat. The voyagers' flags of lions gold and burgundy griffins flies at the celestial. Heavy rows of ships now move against the currents, off to venture a place we don't know.
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May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 6:24 AM UTC
1.1
griffins are beautiful griffins feathers glistening in the early sun griffins eyes sparkling like a moonless night griffins beak as sharp as a sword griffins talons as sharp as its beak widespread wings covering the sky trying to survive in the harsh environment.
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Feb 23, 2018
Feb 23, 2018 at 8:01 AM UTC
griffins