They that toil the soil,
get soiled through the soil
For they that trespass through this lands passes through
The past, and never ever come back
This place is ours to man, not to maim
And for the blissful beam of morrow',
i shall boil in ravage now...
For the swordsmen, their paradise lies in their swing
For on every battlefield lies not their dead
But their victory
The bloods you see
The hearts pulled apart,
Were colors of the home they raised for themselves
And their heavens they made for themselves
They that pass through this land shall not perish
For their tomorrow our future we lay
The world is not a good place
But should you ever see old age,
Biuld your dreams
Water your pride
Starve your fear
Exercise your patience
Tomorrow when you face the world
Biuld your paradise
For theres no place for people like us on this train
Call life
Categories:
swordsmen, 10th grade, 7th grade,
Form: Blank verse
Memories of youth after many turning pages still in touch,
captured imaginations painted by passing clouds as such.
The princess of heart enters my dreaming sphere,
by first sight not knowing how she got there.
My castle of dreams in secrecy of captured imagination,
only those things I love allowed in that sensation.
We never spoke and yet I listen to those fractions in time,
seeing you in other worlds not the same.
Frame by frame through many splendid gentle wishes,
leading always to the smiles of first touch kisses.
As tragedies are the parts to purpose senses,
the captured distress of you in me condenses.
The heroic act by journeying through the land of beast,
facing fiery dragons and dark swordsmen from the east.
Saved by potions of righteous fortune declaration,
our future had a all written over liberation.
Eons of times later in retrospect of another reality,
the struggle of marriage and its inherited mentality.
The truth by innocent dreams of loving affection,
the never ending stories and its eyes of utopian connection.
Categories:
swordsmen, 12th grade, dream, imagination,
Form: Ballade
Personalities, no names just the same
personalities, say what you will, after
swallowing a mediocrity pill...personalities
self inflicted pain, bold lies told
protect and defend at all costs
in the middle, I can’t stop
I want to but for pieces and parts
say NO way
samurai swordsmen conspiratorial debut
punctuated by delusion of self
even when I don’t know, I know
even when I know, I don’t know
Progress debuts again without reframe
Tired, sick of and too...
moaning with heaviness, inflexibility
what do I want, what do I do?
Categories:
swordsmen, inspiration,
Form: Blank verse
Finally by the blood of swordsmen
They reach the mystic shore
Torn by battle each parched tongue
Corrupts it’s enemy once more
Flesh and spirit torn then stained
In legend myth and tale
Blew them, this final war
Llyr upon his sail
Bleached bones, sinew, hungry fists
Baying for a fight
Women to there long lost lovers
Avenged by firelight
No god of light ever brings
The blood of there’s back home
To the shores of Avalon
Once the soldiers gone
Then finally by there longboats
They reach the mystic shore
Fighting Norsemen cross the Styx
To battle ever more.
Ron Kempton
Categories:
swordsmen, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Ballad
The Battalion set out through the fields
Over mountain tops under cover of the night
Moonbeams flushed with shadows of clouds
Provided a permanent array of light
Two by two the marched softly side by side
Anonymous to trees and staying out of sight
Dawn cracked the early morning sky
Geese flying in its wake before daylight
The Enemy would meet them in the valley below
The Red Road Crossing staging for the fight
The archers prepared bows and quivers
Swordsmen and those with spears upright
And behind them the Calvary on steeds
Snorting and dancing Riders glued on tight
The Bugler signaled the troops all let loose
Cannons propelling shrapnel in the morning light
Horses and men a muddled mess of torture
And bravery a Calvarys' last fight
The ground which was brown was now a deep red
For the blood of the Battle had soaked in the night
And the ghost of these Men and their horses as well
Haunt The Red Road on the eve of that fateful night.
Categories:
swordsmen, war,
Form: Bio
What is my best physical feature,
I look in the mirror and all I see is a sea creature.
Is it me bald head I ask?
But when is see me face it looks like a week old rusk.
No
Uh! Me lips
No, no, they look like half chewed chips.
Mmmm! Could be… me eyes
Na! they look like sad mud pies
It’s got to be me lovely slim legs
Nope they sound like two swordsmen have a fight or like tent pegs
May be.. me height
I’ll asked me wife, “If it wasn’t for your body and your face you’d be alright.”
Well there it is me best feature
A sea creature
Categories:
swordsmen, funnyme, sea, me, sea,
Form: Rhyme
FIRE THE IMAGINATION
Mesmeric flames, coals aglow
Warmth on the face , don’t want to go
Burning coal and embers smoulder
Outside room is getting colder
Pull my chair somewhat close
Moving flames me engross
Watch its heart-pulse coalesce
In orange metamorphosis.
Eyes are fixed and far away
Seeing men and girls at play:
Mind creates dancing damsels
Flowing round with shining candles,
Sweeping swordsmen swooping swirling
With shining sabres’ blades whirling,
Sunsets, dawns and stormy skies
Grow as blaze intensifies.
My desire to watch camot be quelled
A mesmerised moth I am held.
Categories:
swordsmen, imagination
Form: Couplet
I love an antique tale
Where noble swordsmen never fail
To rescue ladies fair
Or brave the dragon’s lair.
The creaking castle door—
The hidden stairway in the floor—
They each enchantingly
Excite and shudder me.
Romantic terrors thus combine
With Beauty. Old, old wine
Of witchery and wondrous dread
A Gothic castle in my head.
Categories:
swordsmen, fantasy
Form: Verse
The table was running with ale,
The wizard was starting his tale.
The barley-drunk swordsmen slouched near,
And tore at some dry hunks of bread,
And scowled as the sorcerer said:
“Come close and listen and fear—“
But they only glared at their beer.
Their leader unslung his long blade,
Said “You’re the one should be afraid,”
And severed a head that went thud!
The story remained never told,
The warriors pushed north in the cold,
Next Spring, they’re found frozen in mud,
Their hair matted, smeared with black blood.
Categories:
swordsmen, fantasy
Form: Verse
The table was running with ale,
The wizard was starting his tale.
The barley-drunk swordsmen slouched near,
And tore at some dry hunks of bread,
And scowled as the sorcerer said:
“Come close and listen and fear—“
But they only glared at their beer.
Their leader unslung his long blade,
Said “You’re the one should be afraid,”
And severed a head that went thud!
The story remained never told,
The warriors pushed north in the cold,
Next Spring, they’re found frozen in mud,
Their hair matted, smeared with black blood.
Categories:
swordsmen, adventure
Form: Verse