A pair of centaurs from a far away dream
Entered my room without sound
“We’re not mythological, not what we seem”,
Said one of them, looking around
I dared to ask “folks how did you get in
To what do I owe such a pleasure?”
Another one spoke, who was smelling with gin
“You’re a man of good fortune and leisure
We couldn’t miss the option to visit you, sir
You are on a right way”, he said
His friend added “mind you, we wouldn’t disturb
If you weren’t long time been dead”
“Now what do you mean by this?” I said, but no
I couldn’t speak out my question
Meanwhile both my guests stretched their legs on the floor
And hung on my chairs their vesture
Then one of them sniffed, and another one puffed
They probably thought to look groovy
They ate all my food, drank my wine, smoked my stuff
I felt like I’m watching a movie
Then Morpheus got me and down at the shore
Out of the train window I saw
My old native home that I left long ago
Still cannot remember, what for.
Glass illusions forestry of butterflies in flight
swiveling and turning wing, aiming for sun
hovering over lulling waters of purple hues
Breathing like flowers, frilling up the air
inside a cornucopia world of rich and bright
Birds are calling from afar symmetrical chirps
of grandeur, across the wide expanse
nocturnal illumination of the heart and soul
Varathane music sonatas, flute escapades
within a dormant brook, nature's usurp
Fairies, trellises, and magic twigs interlinked
inside the Foloi forest, the mighty oak respires
aside centaurs and dryads, of their time
an emerald green, bottled by nature herself
all is transformed here, even the sky is pinked
Altered, Remodeled, Reworked, Transformed,
by my sweet, poetic imagination...
"Follow Me "
A really wrong place for who must hide,
All the roads leading to center wide…
Where the sociable prays to be dumped,
As he would never be skipped nor jumped…
The opposite of periphery
Of many things their territory:
The consistent and the slippery
Absolute substance and frippery…
Center is the place to meet a king,
But around one they form a ring;
To do a king harm pretty hard:
The watched from all sides by Good Guard…
Far from the center you are fainter:
To be noticed, then, trust some painter;
That’s why a center one should enter,
What’s more! At the center men gentler…
Still, the place one needs shrewd mentors
Against frivolities and banters:
Fanciful reflections on centaurs
And chains-hating. full freedom chanters…
Where Nations’ Capitals are cited
To foes strain before they are sighted.
"Mythical creatures arise in a labyrinth flight round a cloisters,
a crown of flowers and berries they wear in fairyland." Quote by Poet
Stars shiver in the laden cold with the moon's sight.
Autumn's chill sigh emotion thrown across the night.
The elves, faeries, centaurs, and minotaur physicality
in merry enchanting dance in the inner labyrinth
among the comfort the open courtyard invisibility.
Untold mythical young too; no mundane eyes could see.
Winged Faeries spin~dance holding an olive branch.
Dragons menacing roar with crackling fire of thunder
weaving between the clouds to catch the air above;
under a blanket sky, whirling in shadows of purple.
Magical serpentine fierce in all their mystic wonder,
incandesce scales in brilliant metallic shine livery,
to its subtle benevolence manner, bold chivalry.
3/17/2023
Writing Challenge - 'M' Words - Poetry Contest 7. mythical
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Sam Adams
was a paranormal researcher
he was searching
for mystical creatures
that he was sure
still existed somewhere.
The banshees, bigfoot, the centaurs,
the demons, the dragons, the giants,
the hellhounds, the minitours, the leprechauns.
The snowmen, the unicorns, and yeti.
Sam Adams found a book
the legendary infamous necormicron.
Which many had dismissed
as nothing but a story
by Lovecraft and his fellow
demented writers.
Chanting from the book,
He opened the door
the first through
was the king of the unicorns.
He brought with him
thousands of his followers
who launched a war
against the modern world.
The unicorn and his army
quickly overwhelmed the world
appointed Sam Adams
as their ambassador,
the unicorn smiled
at his victory
it had been a long time
living in exile
in the other dimensions.
-Reconnaissance-
The numbers are swallowed whole by contemplation.
Dest orlo ana...
Matadors ride the night with centaurs going full stallion. In the center drafted by a mellow bass of destruction.
Tech savvy as le knight, in thee lead suit. Shining like the radiation of a hare, running from a ravenous hawk.
Talk of a fellow twilight squaller shifted, take the batteries and lick the acid off the plate.
I hate thou reconnaissance, more than an extinct white rhino could imagine.
Focus on dreams and surpass the reserve. The black sheep will have his day to complete said experiment.
Talk is cheep, like a bird learning how to play the piano. Repetitive.
Say hi.
Within a land of Virgin Forest mystical wonders flourish
Trembles the pulsing heart of heavenly laden body at night
Ghostly figures shadows shoutout, dance, and nourish
Soft weaving mellifluous emerald-mist awaiting daylight
Chasms filled and mounds of decaying fallen trees below
Eloquent lace lichen and mats of moss embrace nature's seasons
Improbable flickering amber windows aglow
Amongst high-tower contorted trees bestow reasons
Verdure of mystical creatures lie low
Beneath enclosing trees bough
And susurration fluttering leaves
As brownies are busy all night tweaking chores
Alicorn, centaurs, fairies, and dwarf stir leaves of trees
High overhead night creaks, cries, and laughter flow
Sailing passage through moist earthy scent breeze
Verdure of mystical creatures lie low euphoric
Within a land of Virgin Forest
9/16/2021
''M'' Contest, New Poems Only - Poetry Contest 6. Mystical
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Ghosts, Hosts’ with the mostest
In the House of the dead, Ghost's roam their home they once lived before becoming spirits.
Crickets serenaded near their catacomb; Tree's creek buried deep in loam from the breeze.
Serving Cores light and blue cheese balls to Fairies visiting from the mores.
A Burmese python chasing mice on the splintering wooden floor.
Gargoyle's crash through a trap door causing an uproar as witches with big sores riding brooms zoom down the fireplace.
Unicorns give chase to Gryphon wearing lace around their chins.
A Golem and an Ogre sit quietly talking to one another giving off a stomach-churning odor.
Centaurs fought a banshee shrieking so loudly cracked a marble column.
Gnomes decided to make this place their home with the phoenix in the attic away from the combated Leprechauns living near their garden dome.
The host Ghosts bring out the last of the wine and served pickled swine having a fun time their orbs twinkling like disco balls down the halls.
2/13/2021
sponsor Julia Ward
The Perfect Date
Fly away with me to untraveled lands
I'll be leading you there, holding your hand
Seeing world wonders, no man’s ever seen
Ethereal scenes, only shown in dreams.
Striking sunsets to mesmerise our eyes
Spellbinding beauty of rapturous skies
Stars highlighting ground with silvery strands
To overtures from nature's concert grand.
Moon bright as a jewel newly polished
Backlight to stately trees of the forest
Alien encounters for us to meet
Joyful to show off their peaceful retreat.
Creatures humans never witnessed before
With the chance to ride on backs of centaurs
Fruits to savour beyond expectation
The marvels of beguiling creation.
This could be romantic, the perfect date
Let's realise it afore it’s too late.
7th February 2021
As a kid, I loved reading “Nancy Drew” and “Trixie Belden” mysteries. As a teen I couldn’t ingest enough mythology; dragons, dwarves, elves, gnomes, centaurs and fairies were pure gold for my cache of thrills. As a young woman, Sherlock Holmes, Agatha Christie novels and terrors of Stephen King’s nightmares, owned my time and now biographies, philosophy, poetry and history crowd my personal library with one difference…since “Harry Potter” moved in with his friends; I revisit my inner child for respite.
Stories abound in
Nature; each leaf reveals one
As it, rides the wind.
I'm just an Elf, am I the only one
Living in the forest, by the river ,in the sun
Stomping and a romping tryn to have a little fun
But am I the only one, left to dance here in the sun
Oh wait here they all come
The mushrooms are ripe,on this wild and Elfish night
The Hobbits are setting the mood
The Unicorns dancing, the Centaurs are prancing
Theres magic alive in the wood, yes our magics alive in the wood
I am Elf and Elf I am,whisper when you speak, never holler at the Meek
Beware of the magic in the meadows, and the whispers in the wind
And when you happen on the Unicorn,your search for solace will finally end
https://medium.com/@christylrivers/are-you-for-real-b892f0d16d87
Everything that is real to human beings
Is not so real anymore
We invented money and gods and robots and twitter-feeds
We sit behind a blue glow
Wondering where we are.
Or are we, at all?
Were we?
We were. There. East Africa?—?maps are real?—?
Because we dragged lines in dust,
Then made them from trees,
Then electrons
We collected mind pixels,
(a made-up word, like thoughts)
We abstracted those bits,
Into symbols, into shapes, into policy
Then we asked
Where did the sky go?
Once…
Gods and goddesses, centaurs and dragons
Swirled above, spiraled into heads and hearts.
Around our campfires
Bears grumbled, lions haunted, elephants huffed
Until we borrowed some sparks, blew them into the dark
Then. We emerged with those sparks tell each other stories
Like the one you are reading now.
https://medium.com/@christylrivers/are-you-for-real-b892f0d16d87
I see you are one of the fairies,
the life of the light of this world.
Opening up opportunities,
with the flowers and love you unfurl.
Satyrs and centaurs gather to the call,
hearing the despair in your voice.
Fearing the pain in my song,
when all along there was a better choice.
From the throng of a broken heart,
my eyes burned so moist.
Only those misunderstood,
could attempt to try and understand.
I know in my soul that I can,
and I think you might be able too.
From the way that your heart slowed,
and then just sped straight on through.
Because we have been here before,
and I will get up again.
Have faith in us,
because, I know that you can.
And then we will plan,
for a future so beautiful.
Fight for what we want,
just like the heroes do.
You know you bring such a beauty to this life,
it’s nothing new.
I have learned to appreciate the color of truth,
from the view of your face and the taste on your lips.
I love you.
you make me love this world.
So long as fairies and fireflies are allowed to exist,
I hold hope in tomorrow’s future.
Knowing that with you, we’re a bit beyond bliss.
Within a land of Virgin forest wonders flourish
Trembles the pulsing heart of heavenly laden body at night
Ghostly figures shadows churn and nourish
Harmonious reflection green-mist awaiting daylight
*
~ *
*
Pits and mounds of decaying fallen trees below
Persuasive lace lichen and mats of moss embrace nature’s seasons
Improbable flickering amber windows aglow
Amongst high-tower contorted trees bestow reasons
*
~ *
*
Verdure of mystical creatures lie low
*
~ *
*
As brownies are busy all night tweaking chores
Alicorn, centaurs, fairies, dwarf stir leaves of trees
High overhead night creaks, cries, and laughter flow
Sailing passage through moist earthy scent breeze
*
~ *
*
Verdure of mystical creatures lie low euphoric
Within a land of Virgin forest
9/22/2016
The great hands of fate have squeezed their grip on this infallible date!
Make way, fermenting 7th, for the intolerable October the 8th!
Far, far away the lone lemur leaps with joy to celebrate-
The great, insoluble, improvable, October the blasted 8th!
D.W, dear, with quirks and beauty that torment and infuriate,
Can you not see my flippidy- floppity- flimsy- fedazzled state?
See how my nerves leave me prostrate on the coming of this most magical date!
October the phone a-flippin, Charles J. Dickens, Squawking chickens,
Sexy centaurs strippin, heart sta-ricken, danger dippin' -
October the infernal 8th!
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