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"wayland" poems
I have always loved you because you are Jace Wayland I found the sincerest thoughts from every word you've said. Transparent is what you have always been.
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May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 2:03 PM UTC
To Jamie Campbell Bower
I am the only one I trust the most I am the only one I compete with I am the only one to love the most Said Wayland the badass-smith I am my best friend in need I am my rattlesnake- **** I am..... Are you????
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Jul 30, 2017
Jul 30, 2017 at 3:35 AM UTC
I am......
Truces by Michael R. Burch Artur took Cabal, his hound, and Carwennan, his knife, and his sword forged by Wayland and Merlyn, his falcon, and, saying goodbye to his sons and his wife, he strode to the Table Rounde. “Here is my spear, Rhongomyniad, and here is Wygar that I wear, and ready for war, an oath I foreswore to fight for all that is righteous and fair from Wales to the towers of Gilead!” But none could be found to contest him, for Lancelot had slewn them, forsooth, so he hastened back home, for to rest him, till his wife bade him, “Thatch up the roof!” We must sometimes wonder if all the fighting related to King Arthur and his knights was really necessary. In particular, it seems that Lancelot fought and either captured or killed a fairly large percentage of the population of England. Could it be that Arthur preferred to fight than stay at home and do domestic chores? And, honestly now, if he and his knights were such incredible warriors, who would have been silly enough to do battle with them? Wygar was the name of Arthur’s hauberk, or armored tunic, which was supposedly fashioned by one Witege or Widia, possibly the son of Wayland Smith. Legends suggest that Excalibur was forged upon the anvil of the smith-god Wayland, who was also known as Volund, which sounds suspiciously like Vulcan. Keywords/Tags: King Arthur, armor, sword, Excalibur, spear, Lancelot, wife, domestic chores, war, peace, homework
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Apr 18, 2020
Apr 18, 2020 at 1:17 AM UTC
Truces
Often times late at night I lie awake, alone And shoot at an Albatross That sits outside my window With a finger pistol It is silent and friendly It writhes to amuse me There is only the sound of bones No heartbeat in my ears No ripple of breath Just the calm lap of water As the Albatross shakes off a chill
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Apr 27, 2012
Apr 27, 2012 at 2:34 PM UTC
Ode to Wayland S. Eberhard
he the wayland on the morrow fry the fish head fetching sorrow spilling coffee water closet magic muffin easy does it mark the doorjamb twenty minutes spellbound silence random spinnets fifty-second gully washer **** the ****** mustard slosher rabbit puddle prancing pony slap me sideways steve maloney
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Oct 17, 2017
Oct 17, 2017 at 5:16 PM UTC
Trochees