"slayers" poems
Here's one for the gamers
dungeon dwellers, competitors and casual players
Whether they're at home or at a friend,
footballers, car racers or dragon slayers
To the world that looks down on us
for those who's hobbies least appeal
Just because they don't understand the reason
or share the passion we feel
Gamers like acheivements
each to their own
Whether its to vanquish the opposition
build, or break their enemies throne
Is that so different
perhaps they spend a lot of time at home
But isn't playing online with their friends
a little better than just sitting alone on ones phone?
The world of gaming has evolved
and adapted so much
It's a common to see a mother aligning fruit
or a child with a flapping duck
And is it such a bad thing
if the players are actually having fun
It may not be making them better
but I can think of many worse things they could have done
They say games encourage violence
but these people are some of the kindest I've ever seen
Theft, ****** and street racing
would it not be better if these things were only done behind a computer screen?
For many, its more than just a game
and can lead to some desperation
But people need to know the limits
and play in moderation
For some
it's to do things they wouldn't normally do or say on a daily basis
A couch potato wanting to explore the world
avoid boredom, keep their mind from stasis
To feel the breeze of a challenge
drive a fast car or
sword-fight,
maybe even do some parkour
Whether they want to skydive
or skate over a hill
To be able to do something dangerous
without having to sign a medical bill
We all have our reasons
some play casually while others play to vent
E-gaming has become so popular
now hosting world tournaments and many gaming event
This is how we are
so please let us be
Our motives are like captured birds
are we are just setting them free
Whether you want to be a princess
or guardian of a banana tree
You can do whatever you want
just follow your dream
People will always be different
this is just another sub-culture; like fans of a band
But we are the gamers
and by this title proudly we stand
Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 5:02 AM UTC
The vane on Hughley steeple
Veers bright, a far-known sign,
And there lie Hughley people,
And there lie friends of mine.
Tall in their midst the tower
Divides the shade and sun,
And the clock strikes the hour
And tells the time to none.
To south the headstones cluster,
The sunny mounds lie thick;
The dead are more in muster
At Hughley than the quick.
North, for a soon-told number,
Chill graves the sexton delves,
And steeple-shadowed slumber
The slayers of themselves.
To north, to south, lie parted,
With Hughley tower above,
The kind, the single-hearted,
The lads I used to love.
And, south or north, 'tis only
A choice of friends one knows,
And I shall ne'er be lonely
Asleep with these or those.
2.7k
I pledge to Nigeria my country.
From between the heavens and the earth lies.
I pledge to not be a betrayer, but loyal.
Even when our leaders turn slayers.
I pledge to be the voice
That echoes above a mere noise.
I pledge to fight off vices with my pen.
To inspire, educate and liberate all our countrymen.
I pledge to be faithful, loyal and honest.
Even thou, our leaders proved to be dishonest.
To serve Nigeria with all my strengths.
In times when we were left with impotence.
And to nourish the great work of our forefathers.
As she stopped being a douth mother.
I pledge to defend her unity,
Uphold her honor and glory.
None will be left out- not a single entity.
Moment speaks, as all now become a past story.
Together we shall conquer.
Together we shall strive.
Together we shall set the pace right.
Together we shall rise up to the light
Nigeria @ 60—TOGETHER is the theme.
TOGETHER WE SHALL STAND………
=====SO HELP US GOD.
Oct 1, 2020
Oct 1, 2020 at 2:53 AM UTC
Deaths Of 2013
My third year doing this.
Paul Walker, Texas ranger,
driving fast leads to danger.
Matt Osbourne was Doink The Clown,
Paul Bearer always wore a frown.
Dennis Farina and James Gandolfini,
always played a mobster meany.
Peter O'Toole, famous actor,
Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher.
President Nelson Mandela,
Dennis Burkley, was a famous fat actor fella.
Lou Reed, is now on the wild side,
took all the colored girls for a ride.
Conrad Bain and Bonnie Franklin,
tv actors who had white skin.
Paul Blair and Stan The Man,
playing baseball, when they can.
Marcia Wallace and Lisa Robin Kelly,
both had ***** that bounced like jelly.
Tom Clancy wrote famous books,
not much on having good looks.
Cory Montieth and Patti Page,
one died young, other of old age.
Jean Stapleton, was Edith Bunker,
Archie always put her in the dumper.
Pat Summerall and Deacon Jones,
played football and broke some bones.
Dr. Joyce Brothers and Pauline Phillips,
they both gave good and bad tips.
Ray Manzarek, from The Doors,
Jeff Hanneman knew all Slayers chords.
Chrissy Amphlett, liked to touch herself,
Caleb Moore's trophies are on his shelf.
Mindy McCready and George Jones,
both hit those country tones.
Chris Kelly from Kris Kross,
Ed Koch is a New York loss.
David Frost and Roger Ebert,
always had words to insert.
Anneitte Funicello from Mickey Mouse Club,
Eydie Gorme almost got a snub.
Jonathan Winters, was very funny,
to come from Mork's egg, made him money.
If you don't know who these people are,
look them up, internet not very far.
For the ones that I missed,
please don't get to ******
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 12:46 AM UTC
Lest the gamers forget the petals doused with blood,
Slayers bequeath their chine.
The guidance of wisdom is deemed for crud,
The sparkle of existence lay bare on the line.
Mockingbirds lost their techniques,
Before dipping their feathers in grizzling red.
Their sentiments shut along their broken beaks,
Symphonies out of tune,
Recorded grünes are that of the dead.
Long lasted the gloom of winter,
As if protected by a permanent warrant.
The only bids are that of a sprinter,
Losing his soul for a bribe, or the steams of the first torrent
How loathsome becometh the living, in a world rotten and vile,
Even I don't guarantee forgiving
For that, I'll set my sail and be gone for a while
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 12:12 AM UTC
Snarls and growls
Not to far behind
Hunting for sins and easy prey
The lingering odor from something that smells so putrid and fowl
It has been wired to **** and hunt to tear flesh, for that is how it is designed
Designed not to be loyal but betray
Skin as dark and the depths of hell
As slick and think as suffocating oil
No one can ever tell
For they boil
It’s such an unknown material
Similar to that of a gargoyle
Deep red eyes
That much similar to an open wound gushing gory blood
Created and build from those in a past life that told lies
Takes revenge and makes your slow feet trek through thick murky mud
Claws as sharp as razors
Reach for your soul for the taking
They are dominant beasts and brutal slayers
Creating a sickening making
Hunting and slaying into the dark everlasting night
No one is safe from the hounds to haul
Itching and ready to take a sdevils front door
Inspiring an uncertain fright
Praying to the devils maker to be safe from the maul
Wanting to be how life was before
They had to say goodbye
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 6:07 PM UTC
Gray matter unfolds
To expose a world hence unseen.
What you thought was soft muscle
Is actually a community of golden pathways,
Carved from the hollow horns
Of unicorns, slayers of virgins.
Like a deconstructed accordion,
It flattens
And reveals a soul, a heart
Floating through space on the back of his fingers.
The deepest annals of the universe
Are uncovered for your eyes only
And for those few blessed moments
There is only greatness.
Jul 25, 2010
Jul 25, 2010 at 10:04 PM UTC
A gate into the world has cracked.
Light flows into the youngs' eyes.
Stumbling using their large feet,
The eyases stare into their falcon's shadow.
Born into a world, born into their nest,
Along a cliff where they'll spend their youth.
40 days they'll spend here.
2 months they'll be dependent on their falcon.
The tiercel will be fierce.
He will protect his offspring.
The falcon will nurture.
She will feed her offspring.
But all must leave the nest.
Twigs, dirt, and dead vegetation,
No longer can contain the eyases.
They fledge until they're confident.
Avid hunters and brutal slayers.
Beaks covered in blood were once creamy young.
They patrol the skies as kings.
They're "of noble birth; aristocratic".
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 3:31 PM UTC
Skeleton1.0
And so it was said
that the weak will fall
By weapons of man
Rock,
Sword,
Bullet,
Bombs fall,
Death rains down
Like dominos they will fall
By each others hand.
Skull1.1
Then death did call
They listened,
Messengers,
Slayers,
Takers,
Of his extended hand,
Bring those who are need of peace,
So my eye may see through your eyes
I will take Deathbedwith last breath.
Spine1.2
I am the never ending
Gods have fallen,
I have then in my cages of bones
Gods,
Titans,
Angels,
Demons,
Man,
Everybody, everything feels my hand
Ages,
Decays,
Rots,
Till I greet them, no one escapes
I am death I see all that lives and dies
In space, air, water, land.
Scythe1.3
And so the universe dies
The energies of
God,
Man,
Animal,
Consumed by my hand
Energy consumed life force taken
Since time began.
Now all is dark, nothingness
Empty,
Barren,
Silent,
And so the taken
It will start a new
A drop in to the nothingness
Then light
Darkness collide
Where nothing,
Now
Life and death start again
As it was before, and then again
The cycle of life and death
A balance I hold infinite times
So it was, so it shall be again.
Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 12:55 PM UTC
Yahweh Yahweh
Hear as I say
A crumbling rock is I as I stand
All points of the compass lies the sinking sand
And as bits of I fall
Jah, hear as I call.
For the Saints and the Angels
The knights of the round table
The prophets of old
The wise man with his gold.
The heathens the sinners
Enslaved cotton spinners.
The trumpeteers
The cannoneers.
The old blues players
The Christian slayers.
For Peter for John
I need not go on
And as they arrive
To watch this demise
Hear me.
Repentance I cries.
Yahweh Yahweh.
Jan 26, 2013
Jan 26, 2013 at 2:48 AM UTC
Yahweh Yahweh
Hear as I say
A crumbling rock is I as I stand
All points of the compass lies the sinking sand
And as bits of I fall
Jah, hear as I call.
For the Saints and the Angels
The knights of the round table
The prophets of old
The wise man with his gold.
The heathens the sinners
Enslaved cotton spinners.
The trumpeteers
The cannoneers.
The old blues players
The Christian slayers.
For Peter for John
I need not go on
And as they arrive
To watch this demise
Hear me.
Repentance I cries.
Yahweh Yahweh.
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Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 6:52 AM UTC
Be yourself one of the light
Be yourself one of the night
Begger or demander of the stars
Worker or waster of the hours
Difference is not when comes the end
The time of last is your judgment
All parts earth are mortal and will weary
The shepherds will turn restless to madness
Saddening the wise and smiling the devil
Slayers of kin they turn and find only loss
Bells will forever toll for the coming fire
The fire that will rain from the angry heavens
When the world halts in its fully aged shadow
All things earthly depleted for toxic luxury
Humans ceaselessly living in their dark arts
Winds from silent howl to rage do they roar
The ground thunders in nature's quake
Oceans and rivers of fire smother all to ruin
No more sinners thrive in power
As they flee like insects from the swatter
Their kin's blood stained on their souls
The world's blood spilt on their account
The sun's light shuts off and sight is only black
Almighty horror emerges out of the sun's corpse
Beyond the clouds of lightning is a portal
The gates to nothingness have been opened
The world has heard its call for the end
Into the void will creation be undone
And the fallen angels too will descend
Fearing the arrival of the Master Himself
All that has been has ended
But those that be with evil live
For they shall face the last judgment
Out of the endless void He comes
His voice utters terror inside the demons
And leaves them to rot in eternal naught
Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 11:57 PM UTC
Alone in the abyss of a dark whirling space, I struggled and fought to escape from this place.
Attempts thwarted down by the “I Am” in disgust, He lashed out with His sword as I kneeled in the dust.
“Be still” he demanded, “Be patient” he cried, you must go through this journey, “wear your wounds with some pride”.
I lay there for days long after the visit had ended, could I ever make sense of the advice that He tended?
I now walk the Earth, a friend to no man. My scars have increased, I endure all I can.
My imperfect soul can smell evil waiting; the world can’t see the stench do their prognosticating.
And what of my flesh, my soul and my heart? A purpose defined of which I play a part.
And what of the children who’s laughter has gone? Do their scars alone justify their strength to go on?
And what of their slayers, their biological threats? Did the innocent pick the wrong hand and lose in a bet?
Alone in they abyss of this dark whirling space, I struggle and fight to help the wounded I face.
Attempts thwarted down by this world in disgust, they lash out with venom and stomp my efforts to dust.
“Be still” they demand. “Be patient” they cry. This life is MY journey and you shall abide.
I lay here for hours pondering aspirations now ended, can I ever make sense of the worth that they tended?
I now walk the Earth, a friend to no man.
My scars have increased; I endure all that I can.
Nov 13, 2010
Nov 13, 2010 at 3:24 PM UTC
The chess champion
Fell in love with his pawn.
The master of games,
Couldn't leave her alone.
He spun her around,
While she had no clue.
She was simply a person
That he liked to use.
But somehow she slipped
Through all of his schemes.
Blew through his defenses,
He thought he could win.
Alas, the lowly pawn
Over his heart had reign.
So he reached out
And pulled her out of his games.
She was no longer used,
He altered her fate.
She became his queen,
That was it, checkmate.
Finally, she was out
And far from harm's way.
He loved her so much,
He taught her how to play.
She sat right by his side
And learned all his moves.
In her he would confide
How to never lose.
And for some time,
They battled other players.
They became a pair
Of little chess slayers.
But then the girl grew better
And walked across the board.
She became the enemy;
She became a chess lord.
And our chess champion
Knew not what to do.
He had taught her everything,
He wondered if she could lose.
"Silly boy." She spoke,
Laughter in her eyes.
"I was never just a pawn,
I was simply your demise."
"You think you can play?
Watch me yawn through this game.
I have sat by your side
For defeating you was my aim.
I thank you for saving me,
For teaching me how to play.
But I think I'll enjoy this.
A chess champion I must slay."
So the chess champion was beat
And another took his throne.
Perhaps he should've left
That lowly pawn alone.
Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 11:30 PM UTC
Tempered
like badly heated steel
I feel unfinished
somewhat diminished.
Yet if I like
I can strike and cut
but
it serves me well
to remember
my enemies may meet me in hell
come December.
I lock into the embrace
between the race
Of dragons and slayers
a soothsayer said
'pay no heed to the dead'
I paid no heed to her
no need to share
Scare me with tales
of wailing souls.
Poles apart from the start of it
I break the steel or a part of it
and blame
the blacksmith.
Apr 2, 2013
Apr 2, 2013 at 5:27 PM UTC
Born in a prairie town, at the Grace
of God and Hospital as fall had already
given over to winter.
Falling flakes, landing, sticking here north of North,
South of the Pole, South of the North West Territories.
North of the rest of Alberta, mostly.
I was not born with a witty tongue or ink flowing freely.
For schools and teachers removed most if not all,
so it seemed. So, if you are a writer, write!
The well maybe deep, dry, unused
and abused, even forgotten and in disrepair.
So if, NO!
so when you can decide to write again,
you will and tell all, those nay slayers,
teachers who shape you so that you have
no tools to cope with life, tell them all
that the flood of words about spring out
of you, some body best build, yet another
ark.
Now where was I?
I'll get back to you with the other part,
one day, right now trying to restart.
My heart.
©DWE092013
Sep 24, 2013
Sep 24, 2013 at 10:27 PM UTC
In the middle of the darkest room hid smiles.
Smiles of the followers.
Smiles of the players.
Smiles of the thespians.
Bespoke, dressed as lesbians.
Smiles of the slayers, who dissected the players.
Who did stand on the stage, spitting some vile rage,
of tyrants and elephants,
while wearing tight underpants,
that strangled their ********
The fellas that was.
Some had big feet,
other's knobbly knees.
All the smiles seemed to fit and that's about it.
A great night was had and no-one was bad.
Came in much too early and now I feel sad !
(C) LIVVI
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 6:38 PM UTC
At first they were dreams.
Dragons in the night.
Dreams of who I could be.
Slayers in the night.
Dreams of where I could be.
Battles in the night.
Dreams with whom I could be.
The American Dream.
At the wake I saw the way.
Struggles in the light.
The man I need to be.
A fighter for what is right.
The roads I need to see.
A pass, rough in the light.
With whom I need to be.
My American Dream.
The pass lay steep. In wait.
But I flipped the switch and
Stared to screen. Screens of
Dreams. Screens of screams.
Screens for the Hollow Men.
Yup, Mistah Kurtz he dead.
But sure I saved before?
Where was I before?
Opinion of my own?
Oh no.
Goals of my own?
So so..
Achievements of my own?
Oh dear god, no!
But I had a dream of my own.
And then I let it go.
Between the conception
And the creation,
Between the emotion
And the response,
Falls the Shadow.
This is the way my dreams end.
This is the way my dreams end.
This is the way my dreams end.
Between my dreams
And no creation,
Between my jealousy
And the flat screen,
Falls the Shadow.
This is the way my dreams end.
This is the way my dreams end.
Not with a bang but a whimper.
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 2:04 AM UTC
A deep well doesn't sit well.
I reap hell, wasn't it hell?
Drowning in that well
Frowning in that hell.
Tears lick my lips,
Years wick my ships,
Sounding off quips,
tongue cracking whips.
Scars on my face,
with killers my place,
slayers of all traces,
of prayers and graces.
Out at sea, lost at sea,
feet six feet deep,
sounding off a plea,
as I fix a final leap.
On the mast, fire below,
make it last, last bellow
shout it loud, gone, that cloud,
that liar, hopeful desire.
Jun 10, 2013
Jun 10, 2013 at 3:53 AM UTC
Slayers remain survivors. Being chased by laser guided nano spiders. I'm running away avoid razor wires. Seems like the sorcerers are first. Dark forces put to work. Unleashing evil elements on to the earth. In the 80's my mom lived by the Euphrates escaping a clan full of crazys who tried to steal and clone her baby. Gods earth. One half cobra. One half Noah. Both are evil I thought I taught you the quotient. At a mountain all alone. A broad head stone shooting arrow heads at the fake warrior thrones.
Let he who is not lost show me your home and he who is without sin write me a poem.
From the innocuous line of questioning. The scarab from the sky taught me all interpretations of language are indefinite.
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 3:47 PM UTC
we live a life ...so short and sweet
to meet the god ...who made us meek
we live to die
this much i know
our time is short
so is the show
we live to die...i say again
prove me wrong ...if you can
enjoy your blessings ...while you can
there is no time to understand
we live to die.....it's just a fact......
you eat and sleep...and break your back.....
you here me now...believe me later
all this time ...we **** ..like slayers
we live to die...we can't change that ....
its newtons law
its just a fact......
Apr 2, 2013
Apr 2, 2013 at 5:14 AM UTC
This false pain from a still false lance
Is mine to suffer through a frenzied dance
For beyond the pirouetting players
Lurk my silent secret slayers
In closing come come the curtain calls
Trapping me in mad applause
And even my expiring breath
Belies the backdrop's quicker death
Although the savage clock will strike
And toss me from this scene
The bravos never uttered
Will survive my dreaded dream
I tried to make me God and King
Sainted in the flesh
I find the easiest meeting begins
In shaking hands with death
Jul 16, 2015
Jul 16, 2015 at 1:51 PM UTC
Welcome to the land of dead,
where we use light too see darkness,
a place where all the stairs lead down,
where the dreams of the ones living are just tossed around,
welcome to the land of the shaken,
in the words of the oppressors.
where the power is of the hater,
where the inferior cater,
the needs to a so called saviour
welcome to my land, let me introduce myself,
they call me death,
I dont know why,
its a matter of opinion, lets not cry
over this.
after all this is all an illusion,
the profanity of consciencness
a part of everyones delusion,
its a world of the weak and the dead,
its a world of the children who are fed, the
A's and B's of the previous generations faults,
where solution is to be found, in the hands of tomorrow,
which, funny as it may seem, will come around later,
Ohh did I tell you, I am a hater,
a hyporcite crafted by time, a dream slayer,
a part of the cycle and maybe a creator,
they say there is no start of end to a circle
there is a puncture in this system
a few still have the sparkle in their eyes
the ones to dare to dream and dream to conquer,
whos life is not confined by the narrow domesticated
herds of the all mighty,
all mighty is within them and their faith not shaken,
the broken system, isnt their end.
I hope
but the society i live in,
doesnt change them to me,
lets hope to slayers of dragons,
are not slayed by the rats.
lets hope, they are not chased by the chosen ones,
who happen to be chased by the previous faults and their disgrace.
Its a system to dawn a new birth of time,
where the conventional knowledge,
is not worth even a dime, where the hopes,
of the successor are held be the creepers of
the mimes.
the mimes that led to this,
the ones who changed the way things work,
the mimes the silently conquered the world,
they threw dust, into my eyes and into yours
its the death of time and eveyrone else of course.
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 11:50 AM UTC