Bind and Dispell
BANG!
The Room shook. Wizardry was such a hard magic, at least that is what Harold thought. He had been practicing for five years now and he couldn’t quite get the knack. All this spells paled in comparison to his companion. But then again his companion was Onyx the Black Cat.
“You should stop Trying,” Onyx Purred as he rubbed his soft midnight black fur along Harold’s leg as he passed beside him, “You’ll never match that of a cat, any cat, and definitely not me.”
Harold had once again turned his breakfast into a pile of mush, not that it wasn’t already of pile of mush to begin with; potatoes and a sliver of thin green beans. But now it sat in front of him an awkward orange, and very likely poisonous. Onyx jumped up on to the table and inspected the disaster.
“Not something I would eat,” he said flicking his tail at the slowly oozing orange goo, “Not that I would eat magic anyway”. From his tail a short puff of magic essence transferred from its tip to the table and the post-food spellcasted material, transforming it into an orange vapour.
Harold coughed, a slightly noxious orange vapour.
“I have no need for food!” exclaimed Harold, somewhat weakly, “No Wizard does.” Yet as he said it his stomach started to grumble. Harold had destroyed his last eight meals with botched spells, and his body was putting up quite an objection.
Onyx looked eerily, his cat ears pricked up high. Such sounds could not go unnoticed to a cat, or any large eared creature such as dogs or jackaloupezs.
“Such Distastful Creatures” murmured Onyx as his mind finished the thought.
Harold wasn’t listening, but rather looking trance-like.
Onyx just shook his head,
“Not another One…”
Watersaver
Once a long time ago a man was saved from flames
Rescued from being too arrogant
A foolish bet from a proud man
For all the town he was to blame
Careful he walks now, always close to a hydrant
That metal water spout can
Watercraft
Do Not Burden the Water Master
Do Not Bear him a Child!
His Realm is Not to Play In
Such Treasures would Surely Drown!
Hand him Not Your Silver or Gold
Hand him Not Wishes of Good Fortune!
For He would Sink into his Depth
Such things Weighting to Much on his Soul!
What Gift to Give the Water Master?
But a Boat for him to Row!
Soft as the Moon is Blue
I need not look up to see the moon
So blue
Its gently beams drawing me up and near
So bright
When I know I will have comfort soon
So benign
In the arms of the one I hold dear
So beloved
Odd Line Lyrical Form Revisited
This is my own style of poetry, it comes from the concept of telling a short story (or message) using rhyme that is not all bunched up, like most things in life you have to wait for it. So here is the form, hope you enjoy it as much as I do, if you do use it online, please link back here and drop me an email at poems [at] hyperphotocube [dott] com; I would love to read it.
Cheers
—–
The Form - Official Guide
The poem is an odd number of lines in the poem block (generally only one block is used. but you can use as many blocks as you want. Works well at odd numbered blocks – FYI).
The Sections:
- The Build Up
- The Climax
- The Message
Where as:
- The poem is an odd number of lines
- There are no rhymes in the first section of the block
- The middle line of the block is the climax
- The last section of the block must rhyme with each line in the first section (in reverse order)
Example:
- I ate pie [a]
- Stuff my mouth I did [b]
- Now I am so full it hurts [c]
- Grown [d]
- I’ve expanded my shirt [c]
- Mouth shut like a lid [b]
- So full of lye [a]
Enjoy this new age poetry form!
Full Moon Haunting
Moon full
Creatures awake
No Slumber
Evil will take
Dark thoughts pull
Shallow footsteps echo
Somethings abound
Moon Shinning
No correlation of the sound
Shadow on walls like art deco
Walk between the shadows and light
Clouds move to darken you path
Nothing stirs by you
Protect yourself from evils wrath
Between the horrors of the night
Moon hidden
No one abound
Continue your dark-hearted journey
Feet and eyes to the ground
Your path forbidden
Breakfast for a Singleton
Flip on the heat
Its time to eat
You’re alone
See if roommate is home
Breakfast for one
Sounds like fun
Don’t do the dishes
But remember to feed the fishes
Eggs are good
The Tale of Merk
Merk was not an daffodil, alone in a field of sunflowers. Each year Merk would rise out of the ground first and educate the new harvest of annuals.
Merk was tall for a daffodil, standing several feet taller than the sunflowers for most of the year. Merk always though sunflowers where wise, as they always looked up for advice. So Merk had always looked down at them, telling them stories about how he survived so long in the sunflower field, being a daffodil and all. Of course none of the sunflowers were listening to Merk, since the first dawn they had all been fasciated at the sun that shined behind him in the morning.
But Merk though it was just typical of youths that their attention waned in the afternoon. They had always for several year been far more attentive to him in the morning. So dutifully he continued to tell them about the life cycle of their kin and how the weather would soon turn cold. But every day they would look right at him in the morning as the sun rose and every evening they would grow tired of his lectures.
All throughout the summer, Sunflowers passed their lives in the manner, and when Merk started to wilt of old age ready to close up for another year the sunflowers where almost his height. He could hear them whisper of the golden circle that they so inspired to be with radiant foliage. This made Merk very happy to hear as he closed up for another year.
After Merk had retired for another year the sunflowers continued to grow and towered above his hibernating ground. Once and a while at night they would look down at where he slumbered…
“Odd fellow thinking he was the sun.” whispered one to the others.
“True, but I liked his point of view.” they all replied.
Time Away
Time Away
Do not fret
Time we spend apart
Shed only tears of joy
Water drops of art
Not the last of me yet
Heart ponder
Mind creates horrible illusions
Of Time Away
Don’t hold delusions
I will not wander
Doorbell will ring
I will stand proud
Silent moments pass by
Crickets are loud
We need to do many things
Sad Ocean
The ocean is sad
It cries every day
Lapping for attention from the world
Like tears the ocean is salty
Unlimited water to the bluest depth
Sorrow at those depts
The ocean is not shallow
It will not judge you by your looks
It makes is choice by deeper inspection
Cry does the ocean blue
As it slowly turns away from us
Peaks a white hang still
Hush now waves
Care will be taken when we ride them
Cry no more, by wave good morning and good night
