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The Rhyme Thread (Lyricists and Poets)


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#141 Skywatcher

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Posted 09 December 2015 - 10:55 PM

This battle grows, I am not winning, but have not lost............................

 

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The Unwelcome Companion

 

Cruel unwelcome companion,

 

He twists his wicked blade, embedded it in my neck when I saw him not. Spreading the fire like lightning coursing it's searing path. The lull will come, but he is never gone, The dull aching burn, circling like a storm in the distance, never leaving, but ready to strike with force again when least expected.

 

He has taught me compassion I thought I knew. Empathy and understanding for any who feel his constant assault. I know this companion now, and can see his reflection in others eyes, can feel their dispare at a fight they have lost. Yet I will stay the twist of his blade as long as I am able. I do not wish the dispare that dims the vision I see in those that have borne his company for longer than I.

 

 I know the path of his desire, to slay all desire.......He will steal in small pieces when you do not notice, one small piece at a time. Until one day you notice he has left but a shell of your bright inner fire, and left ashes where there were branches and roots.

 

I swear to myself that this will not be my fate, but I weary of the battle with a enemy with no face, whose blade I can not parry, for he is the shadow that hides, and wages his attack from behind. Where to find the strength to wage a battle, to feed the inherent ability to heal myself, when my energy is already drained from months that feel like years, and still no gain to show?

 

And now I find I have been seduced back into the arms of a mistress I do not love. I escaped her tangled clinging web once in my life, but her caress is now again the only hand that soothes, and deny's the companions blade the worst of it's sting. It matters not if her dulling bite comes in a needle or a capsule. I know her price, and find I do not care. I take the moment of relief she offers.

 

It would seem to me now, that I have few options left to rid myself of this unwelcome companion. I refuse the offered surgeons knife, a permanent promise of bone fused to steel that has no guarantee. A path that can never be reversed.

 

I hear Raven screaming his warning, telling me not to tread that path.

 

So I will dredge up what energy I can find, and try again, yet another path in a long series of failed attempts, and hope that this is the one that will grant me an upper hand, to stay the hand that twists the blade, at least for a while.

 

The ancient medicine I turn to, needles to feed a fuel from within. I fear there is little left to enhance their medicine, yet I must try to pull more from some deep well within.

 

Where is my Violet Flame now St. Germaine? Have I grown so dim?

 

Cruel unwelcome companion, I spit at thee once again. I will not go whimpering in the dark. You will not rob me of all................

 

Skye

 

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Edited by Skywatcher, 10 December 2015 - 01:36 AM.

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#142 SteampunkScientist

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Posted 10 December 2015 - 08:20 AM

When Love is broken.

 

 

 

Once upon a long time ago,

Or was it yesterday? I don't know,

Time is a fluid and fickle thing.

 

I look back and I see it true,

Was too close then and it was still so new,

Broken love, broken heart, and broken ring.

 

But as they say the show "must still go on",

I get back up to face the morning dawn,

And wear a smile until I feel its true light.

 

Our days are numbered to infinity,

Many lives, many loves, as I now see,

Take a deep breath, plunge in again, dispell the night.

 

Oh! Like a sheep I've gone astray...

Until my eyes were opened to the day,

And the path you're on,

May it cross my own, May we always, never be alone.


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#143 Skywatcher

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Posted 20 May 2016 - 09:11 PM

bump, (so I can find this)

Maybe its time to pin this thread?



#144 CuttlePhysh

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Posted 04 September 2016 - 12:29 AM

-Where Kings Reign-

The chatter of the inmates sing the anthem of the streets,
Where the 'Ghetto Lords' & homies own the cops out on their beats.
Painted bitches primp their hair,
Guns & dope are everywhere,
If it ain't right, you'll find it there, where Satan holds retreats.

And now the babes are crying from within their mothers womb,
'Cause the 'Ghetto Lord's' supplying pretty powder from the tomb.
It makes the healthy sick & frail,
Creates the prison widows' wail,
Will seal your soul behind a veil of ugliness & doom.

While from their ivory towers, the politically correct,
Are Handing down their verdicts without pause or circumspect.
They hunt the 'Ghetto Lords' at night.
With tarnished badges wield their might.
What once was wrong is now called right, the death of all respect.

"So, where is the solution?", the courtroom jesters sing.
While political pollution makes the 'Ghetto Lord' our king.
With dollars made from killing babes,
And silver tongues, they play charades,
Still building 'Tainted Badge Brigades', & letting 'Freedom' ring.

~Gjinja~


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#145 CuttlePhysh

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Posted 12 September 2016 - 12:38 PM

                                                                                                                                                             ~Gjinja~
                                                                                                                                                    The legend begins

                                                                                                                                "The Djinn came down like the lioness pride,
                                                                                                                          Their war banners streaming with Sabretooth hyde.
                                                                                                                                  Mystical blades were like stars in the sky,
                                                                                                                                    Thirsting for blood of the Gypsy Jedai."

                                                                                                                                             -The Gi'Doses Chronicles-



A day of reckoning...

Where does one begin to tell the tale of a race without known origin? Servants or masters? Philanthropists or conquerors? Stories are handed down through generations portraying Djinn in these roles & others. The truth of their nature is lost forever within the abyss of knowledge that is long without record. One thing is known for certain... placing your trust in the Djinn cradles angel, as well as assassin, with one whimsical choice. But, it is said, once befriended by a member of this most noble and enigmatic race, the imagination cannot fathom the depths at which he, or she, will strive to prove their loyalty.

For thousands of millennia the Djinn have been ruled by Zarubeth. His second in command & personal body guard, Q'Sharu, planned and led the Djinn massacre against the Gypsy clan of the Jedai. No human could match the powers of the Djinn. Not even the mystical Jedai Gypsies, with their mastery over the metaphysical realm, could begin to stand up to the onslaught of the Djinn warriors. Why the conflict started in the first place, if there even was a valid reason, will never be known. The Gi'Doses Chronicles merely record it, they make no attempt to explain it.

The savage island of Sanangia (the largest and main among the Sanangian Island Group found deep in the core of the Dragons Triangle) was home to the Gypsy Nations. The Jedai were the ruling clan of the Gypsies and a theocracy by nature. Masters of the mystic arts, they dwelt between this world and the next, together known as the "Sanangian Realm". King Sterling Lexx and his beautiful wife Aspen, along with the rest of the Gypsy empire, were completely caught off guard when Q'Sharu and his Djinn assassins overwhelmed the island nation. "Take no prisoners!", was the chant that rang out as Jedai fell by the thousands. Q'Sharu himself slew King Sterlin and as he turned to butcher the Kings bride his eyes took in the beauty of Aspen. Q'Sharu had never before seen such a vision... a vision of grace and charm, of beauty incarnate. He knew at that moment he could not kill this one, he must have her for his own. His Djinn heart was overcome with love for a human. It has been said that 'war makes strange bedfellows', and though Q'Sharu was the enemy, the ravager of her land, the murderer of her husband and King... as Aspen beheld this magnificent being in front of her, her soul became one with his. In the heat of the moment passion had it's way and they made love while the battle raged on outside. Afterward, Q'Sharu realized Aspen could never be allowed to return with him to the world of the Djinn. She would be an outcast, she would never be accepted and life for her would be unbearable. So Q'Sharu secreted her away from the battle and allowed her to live knowing if he ever tried to see her again it would only put her in peril and he would be seen as a traitor. This would be the last time they could ever be together. The heart of a Genie was broken, but it was for the best.

The war has ended months past... Aspen dwells in the land of Orient. Her own Sanangian Kingdom now a part of the Djinn Empire, she dare not return. The child, Gjinja, was born in the hot summer months and grew quickly. Strong, beautiful and intelligent, Aspen could see the child's father in her... the dark hair & deep ocean blue eyes of the Djinn. As the years passed, Gjinja's mother taught her the Jedai ways of alchemy and the mystic arts. And while Gjinja excelled in these, the natural Djinn powers and strength of her father became her forte. Physically and mentally disciplined in Shaolin temples, trained in the mystic ways of the Jedai, endowed with the natural abilities of the mysterious race of the Djinn, sole heiress to a Kingdom stolen from her before she was even born... Gjinja left her childhood home behind to find her own way in the world. But, she dreams of a day of reckoning. To build an army of her own, return to the Sanangian Realm, and one day take back what is rightfully hers. She is torn between the loss of her heritage, and her love for the father she cannot know.


excerpt from:
'Tales of Lore' from "The Book of Seven Brothers",
Gjinja Princess heir to the Sanangian Realm,
Daughter of Q'Sharu
Official Imperial Diplomat to the Dread Dracoth, IBNW"


Edited by CuttlePhysh, 12 September 2016 - 02:13 PM.

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#146 SteampunkScientist

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Posted 12 September 2016 - 06:09 PM

Queen of the Moon...

She holds the dew, she holds the rain,
In her hand a dagger, she calls "Athame",
You can see the magick in her eyes,
And she has snared you before you realize,

That she.... is the Queen of the Moon (yeah she's my lover)
She, is the Queen of the Moon(like no other)
She can offer bane or boon,
'cause She is the Queen of the Moon...

She has an alter, deep in the wood,
You don't go there, unless it's understood,
She cuts a circle in the damp forest ground,
Four directions, four gates, open round.

(Chorus)

I play my flute, and I dance in her stead,
My face covered with leaves, horns grow from my head,
Moonlight streams down to earthen ground,
We make love in the midnight, in the sunlight we won't be found.

(Chorus)
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#147 Arathu

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Posted 10 January 2017 - 10:34 PM

YULE

Darkened time of glacial grip,
Sun stalled south a long nights trip
With cell bursting spines of crystalline rip
Life's water, from all cellular matter.
Broken through walls, a most silent clatter,
Death's hardened grasp made strangely faster.

Inside turning the spirits I find,
Is it just noise made up in my mind?
Roaming the paths and trails seek kind,
Like me, to wonder are we still here?
Like all, to desire, have joys, and some fears,
Each being unique threads of the wyrd.

Reborn star some half past his death,
Second by second regaining warm breath,
Nursing newborn suckling ancient breast
Still neath, blanketed overcast groves,
Leaf and loam shawl covered layers below,
Dream mind of springtime the fiddle heads grow.

Deep well risen steam smears cold,
Mushrooms and worms are deep told,
Dwarf made soils prepared for the bold,
Returning light, and star warmed night,
Easy-time's toils yet eases the fight,
Turning the wheel, make offer, bring back the light!

 

 


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#148 Arathu

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Posted 10 January 2017 - 10:36 PM

Moulde

Darkness damped leaf layered ground
Tumbled dead branches wind fallen found
Slow seeking fibers digesting mounds
Cycles ever turning feared ones yearning
Misunderstood, shunned, and no longer learning

Wandalf thy children out number men
In silence and fringe upholding fen
Ancient attention turned your ways again
Blackalf thy kin hidden from sun
Bring forth your spores wild winds run

To each a moulde meet in the end
To moot all will pass grim greeting and send
Spark given flight used shell will expend
Tired by toils and worn day by day
Traversing circles then passing away

Ancestral pools amassed ancient ghosts
Ancestral soils returning new hosts
Feeding cycles of Ash and Elm posts
Great gathered spirals by eye see
In all directions created infinity

Holy the stones broken to dust
Whetted by sun a quickened must
Dwarf brewed food young shoots trust
Layer by layer used and turned
While value of harvest comes justly earned

Some provide food, others are keys
Gateways barred passage in fear of the free
Still others provide death instantaneously
Many medicines found corpse grown
Gifts all given freely connections are sown

Oh ancient magic and holy rights
Awaken the knowledge and long lost sight
Dare once again the viewing of light
In sacred circle the elder sage whispers
Footprints follow timeless paths

 

 


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#149 Arathu

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Posted 10 January 2017 - 10:39 PM

My Sun

Spinning and turning his and her yearning
Course and path made new each morning
Ultimately never the same place touring
Great bringer of hope and bone warming light
Inciter of movement impregnating might

Each in it's time slowly north line
One follows another watch strength climb
Visible the breaths low rising find
From darkened brow frosted turn East
In longing for ease prepare offered feast

Beautiful shimmers sparkling death glimmers
Ice and snow bejeweled face of winter
I pray another turn for clan simmers
Shuddering chill shatters deep introspection
Wrap tightened response in animal reflection

From wooden stack reap plenty or lack
Needs known rightly placed want in the back
Log added to fires make surrogate sun-tracks
And none can deny frozen back bitten
All held dear mothers green birth smitten

Come and shine return us the time
Earth's children sleeping under stars mind
Cunning smiles at ease and kind
Knowing inside web woven til end
Staff passed along to do once again

Hail the mighty Sun!
Hail the mighty Sun!
Hail the mighty Sun!
In your strengthening we sleep
Awaiting the thunder and ancient rains
Once again

 

 


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