Best Mythical Poems
I encountered her on a dark stormy night
Her huge trout like lips were a scary sight
Strands of white spittle formed on angry lips
huge folds of fat spilled over her wobbly hips
With scaly grey skin and blood red eyes
and legs so fat they chafed her thighs
Hair tangled and matted like limp seaweed
She reeked like a fish of an ancient breed
Reaching out for me with her claw like nails
Slime dripped from her hands like rancid snails
I tossed her a coin and hurried on my way
She’s not been seen since that stormy day
03-28~17
I watched it emerge
from out of the fog, monumental
in size, a sheer cliff face of steel
moving pass me, almost
quieter than my breath
but for a whispered wake
running from its bow.
Something this big
should have made
more noise.
A black hull bore scars
of scrapings and rust bleeding out
of fissures along its length.
The fog seemed to oil its way,
its shape looming large
then slowly growing smaller
as it slid down river until
it dimmed and disappeared.
In that moment its passage
was a mystery, a brief apparition
of something beyond the dimension
of ordinary things. The quiet
of its passing, the dark bulk
and beauty of its presence
was magnificent
and overpowering.
It was like a shadow cast
by a mythical beast
coalescing out of history,
infiltrating the mind then
dissolving once more
into a place somewhere
hidden in its magical past,
suddenly brought back
to this world
with its registered port
written in rusty lettering
on its stern - MONROVIA
The sun dulled to a shade of green,
A creature hanging there I hadn't seen
Wings of webs and sparkling coloured hues
Seeming to be smiling at me, head tilted
A mystical creature there only I could see
The sun eclipsed; the darkness brings
a creature hanging with webbed wings,
seeming to smile at me, with fiery breath.
A mystical beast, a Dragon I could see.
It was not a span ago I remember,
they needed and had asked of me.
To think of their form so bold,
to give them the life they knew of old.
The mighty dragon hanging so near,
brushing away clouds of innate fear.
Pulsing wing beats shattered the glade,
yet held me safely in his mystical shade.
A voice of an Angel touched my ear.
"Thank you, for seeing my presence clear.”
“My Dragon's form in infinite perfection,
asking of me a new conception”.
"Do tell me of this Earth so changed,
now no castles and dungeons dwell.
Where I did roam for many years,
there maidens fled in horrifying tears.”
“Oh mighty creature, It is sad to say
those things don't exist today.”
”It has been a long, long, time for you
just wait I'll see what I can do?”
I sat thinking for an unusual time,
but could only think of fable and rhyme.
It did come to me in the end,
where a Dragon could happily blend.
Disney was looking for something new
Harry potter was in a right stew.
”Can you fly when asked my dragon of fire”?
Snorting smoke, he flew higher and higher.
I told him of films and fun so grand,
of castles Built in another land.
"Hold on!" I said as I found a strand.
"Can you fly to New Zealand?"
A nod from him and a smile so wide,
on his back I flew on, an incredible ride.
To star in The Hobbit was my dream too,
my dragon and me headed for pastures new.
A cloud of steam emitted from the stream
the mighty Dragon was just a dream.
At the bottom of the hill dust settled around,
I felt such a fool, as I hit the ground.
Playing music of magical mythological sound
As if meditating to mesmerize those around,
Lion and tiger bow down being spellbound,
Legendary painting depicts myths profound.
Hands hold the lyre, strings echo the singer,
Mythical lyrics reverberate and aurally linger.
Shoulder muscles restrain his leaning stance,
Animals hypnotized, intently stare in trance.
Silent posture manifests solitude in his eyes,
Naked features divulge feelings they surmise.
Mystical potent image seeks union with God,
Intellectual persona leaves everyone awed.
He could tame the beasts and calm the rivers,
He could charm a snake without any shivers,
Guide and write of artistic human endeavors,
Create and sing musical themes lasting forever.
His bold naked appearance may reveal a strife,
A delicate mannerism makes it abundantly rife.
Engrossed in quest of music he perfected lyre,
Rhythm and lyrics conspired to artfully inspire.
Look beyond curiously to unveil the mortal,
Greek myths venerate him like an immortal.
A poet, musician, and a wizard of distinction,
Small group of doubters caused his extinction.
First Place
October 9, 2017
Painting: Orpheus by Franz Stuck
Poems that paint a picture 4
Sponsor: Silent One
As my iris heart
sleeps on an orchid pillow ~
fading memories
alive like alzheimer's blooms
swirl in magnolia zephyrs...
I'm a myth, reborn as rust, in life's twilight rendezvous,
laced with truth's tulip Luna and lies' lavender crescent ~ alike
like laser light, serenading in cranberry croons of time.
Eden's mirage fades,
silky rings of illusion ~
hue a milky light
This poem has been crafted with the poetic forms Tanka, Sijo and Haiku.
Scales of azure and emerald green,
Adorn tri-folding translucent wings,
Radiating an iridescent sheen,
Off this mythical creature of old...
Crimson flames with every breath,
His eyes shrewd with amber hue,
One touch was the kiss of death,
From this mythical creature of old...
Soaring high in sapphire skies,
Thunder roaring over the land,
Queens shuddered hearing the cries,
Of this mythical creature of old...
Knights in armor searched in wild,
This dragon they could not find,
Kings sat upon thrones beguiled,
Over this mythical creature of old...
Untouched by swordsmen’s blades,
Beyond aim of hunter’s bow,
Capture he evades,
This mythical creature of old...
written for Dragons contest by The Silent One 10/22/15
My parents complain of a mythical pest,
Infesting our house since the 7th of July,
Devouring the snacks, desserts,
delicacies and everything hot, spicy or sweet,
Determined to find the beast,
Fattened with food meant for me.
with a magic wand and on a broom to hunt
set out may it be a lachupakabra or a lepricorn,
Scary or naughty and anything the creature might wield
ready with a device from my dad given to me with a grin
the device, the compass, the guide to the beast
was a mirror reflecting its scaled skin scarlet red
staring at me with cat like blue eye
fierce and mighty.
Not a pest but is a mythical beast
Omega and almighty! It was me
Perplexed, gave up the hunt.
now feasting on poisonously, maliciously, dangerously
in sugary syrup gulab jamuns soaking.
Thousands of sightings
Curiously elusive
Hallucination
A
Dragon
Cannot play
Harmonica
Trying one melted
His own mouth harp
To liquid
Metal
Pool.
Evil Loki and Queen Maeve
have joined forces to make a mob.
All evil creatures that had died before
with the powers between them
these same creatures will live once more.
They raised Medusa the long dead gorgan
with Athena's shield, which they had stolen.
And given the Cyclops another eye;
another thing stolen once belonging to Odin.
Fafnir needed a blood transfusion.
Ilmarinen, brother of Vainamoinen
made a machine that made dragons blood.
And fearsome dragon Fafnir rose again.
The Minotaur has been brought back to life,
strangly enough by the ancient Chiron
half man, half horse mentor to many hero's
And after removing all of Bellerophon's arrows
Chimera with it's serpents tail,
raised his head and spit fire
all vengeful creatures these
revived to continue terrible deeds
bringing distruction apon the earth
all the dark places that they can lurk
A woman scorned without forgiveness
turning men to stone her bussiness.
The giant with one eye can see again
stands tall with boulders ready to pitch it.
A dragon who lost his guarded treasure
has an anger of equial measure.
A bull headed man and the king of the jungle.
Both have issues and constantly grumble.
A god and a witch seem to have it together.
World, get ready for some very terrible weather.
(For the Myths contest)
To one who places pen to paper,
one may work the whims of Terpsichore
Those who write a witty Chastushka,
may be hearing the voice of Polyhymnia
Those who give thought to a Fibonacci,
could possibly have heard of Melpomene
Those who claim fame to stanzas Ottava Rima,
pen with the hand of the Goddess Urania
Those who sing Limericks so funny you know,
are guided by laughter, the breeze of Erato
One of my favorites, the five line Lanterne,
inspiration may be given, from dear old Enterpe
If one were to write a poem of music you see,
could be hearing the tune from Calliope
Three lines of ten,seven and six, Kimo
could be writing the lines from the heavenly Clio
The last style I'll speak is that of Choka,
I get my vibes form Celestial Thalia
Here are a few of the forms, a poet uses,
with the inspiration from the Nine Mythical Muses
- By Olongapoet
Are those dragon scales, your reason’s hides?
That I’d need St.George’s lance to pierce thru.
Need I look for angry Odin’s lost eye?
To see through thy cynicism’s Stygian depths?
Why does the sweet ambrosia of my offerings,
Seem mediocre for your Asgardian gratitude?
I’m not too far away in this Olympian plane,
For mine eyes be blind to thy splenetic attitude.
There is no Trojan Horse in all that I bring,
And thou art no Helen my lovely dear.
Thou won’t launch mere thousands of ships,
It would be as countless as stars yet unnamed.
Why couldn’t my Persian barrage of gaiety,
Wither your Spartan recalcitrance away,
In this Thermopylean joust of wits,
And humourless tragic Greek play?
Is this task in all means Sisyphean,
The taming of your boulder heart,
That I couldn’t bring to a pedestal mount,
For oft it runs back to the ground?
Would it take a persuasion of Homeric scale,
To convince you of my pure intentions?
Am I an eternal Pygmalion whose efforts,
Means nothing to a Galatea forever a stone?
Even Apollo’s chariot is dimmed and tempered,
When I squint my eyes in perplexity and sweat,
In untying thy senses’ Gordian knot,
And slaying thy labyrinthine mind’s Minotaur.
I don’t have Midas’ touch to turn golden,
That stony and cold disposition.
Nor I in a siren’s voice soothe and calm,
The deadening intensity of thy inquisition.
gods damn it…
I only need thee to brace thyself,
And wait for all love’s arrow to fly true,
To quiver tremulously, finally,
Upon thy hard chest.
So thou might look up,
And see upon mine bloodied hands,
a worn bow.
While Cupid long after my relief,
Of his draining, Herculean task,
lies jaded,
Wheezing upon the ground…
You're a myth that I cannot explain
Unheard of, perhaps
But the consequence is the same
The moments you care are what intrigue me the most
But loyalty is dead
A contrary anecdote
Fascination is key to lure the lamb in to stay
But this story is different
The lion is the prey
I'm just an albatross that drives you insane
Your cannibalism for my soul
I soar through your veins
And when I try to push the burdens out of my mind
Lasty, you linger
From the strength I cannot find
So continue I will
“You aren’t real
You aren’t real.”
Once upon a time in an alluring place
Flourishing realm sweet with seasons showers pace
The earth food for life the lush greenness embrace
Array of flowering plants that twirl and lace
Birds twittered on leafy branches full of grace
Rare butterflies with wide, vibrant wings took chase
Bobbing on the breezeless air they dare through space
Charmed fairies if you gaze close into their face
They sniffed the air scared to be spotted they’ll race
Satyrs played pan flutes others danced everyplace
While others sang a phrase carrying a mace
“Steady my heart; scented blooms cannot unlace
The beauty of your face I cannot erase”
Dare venture down a well-trod maze; rocks retrace
Your way back dazed so be prepared just in case
2/13/2017
Poetry Contest: Monorhyme
Sponsored by: William Kekaula
Daedulus and Ariadne were walking late one night,
Through the maze of Labyrinth, when something caught their sight.
A creature fearsome and bold, the mythical Minotaur,
Theseus the brave came running by, asking what they saw.
Daedulus told Theseus, twas a raging beast, half Bull, half Man,
I think he went that way, please catch him if you can.