Category: poetry

Man on a Sabbatical

Let me give you a hypothetical
About a man on a sabbatical
Not much is known after his birth
As if he had vanished from earth
Then at 33 he is now a radical

Where was he for all those years
He definitely wasn’t with peers
Yet now at 33 he had 12 students
Teaching them with much prudence
While holding back all the tears

But the hypothetical is this
Was he in the great abyss?
Was he learning in the east
The the Taoists did he feast?
Did he learn to predict the kiss?

What if he wasn’t really a savior?
What if he was just a man of yore?
What if he learned from the mystics
Out in the far east Indian sticks?
What if it was thier stories he bore?

The Elven Fire

Shaneise, a little birdie told me of your b-day.
There is so much good stuff for her to say.
You’re the only one shes ever connected.
So deeply, as if by universe, you were selected,
And your fashion sense does apparently slay.

So just like her sister’s poem before you,
You get a very special rhyming tale too
A tale of a woman so natural and wise
One who helps others in a state of demise
Adding yet another Gryffindor to the slew

This tale will be of a magical woman
That was bound to no mortal man
She came from the land of dragonshire
And to be a fashion model she did aspire
To show the world her skin ever so tan

But little did she know about her past
Of how much magic her line had amassed
900 years of magic concentrated down
Now triggering the final countdown
To the cleansing of the great Belfast

1000 years ago the great seer saw
Images of when the land would thaw
‘Tis when the great evil will be free
To corrupt from the land to the sea
But he wouldn’t be any ole outlaw

As Shaneise was born way too soon,
Another born to an Aquarian moon,
She was left to a fragile single mother
But then she was passed to another
As the sun rose on a hot day in June

Taken away before she could learn
About the inner magics that burn
So she led a eccentric girl’s unique life
Accompanied by lots of grief and strife
From a mother that was greatly stern

The ragged clothes she always wore
Greatly affected her to her very core
So every day she plotted her escape
For a life that she could reshape
And by that she absolutely swore

One day she saw an opened door
An escape she could easily score
For there was a call for females tall
To model in Belfast and bare it all
This was what she was made for

She arrives to the Celtic city
Looking like grace and beauty
The city was sprawling and grand
Ready for molding at her hand
And not ready for one so pretty

From here the story gets good
In a land where evil once stood
A pretty little wood elf now resides
In fashion she makes great strides
Magically weaving cloak and hood

But then a strange thing occurred
When she read an ancient word
Her unseen runes went neon
Her magic now fully turned on
Her vision blurry and words slurred

The power rushed through her core
Dropping her to the cold hard floor
She rose with rune tattoos glowing
Strength and power now overflowing
The elf is now ready for the new war

As the shockwaves rocked the nine hells
And penetrated the space-time parallels
Lord Dughall new the time had come
And sounded the demon war drum
Into Shaneise flooded ancient spells

The Lord Mayor unleashed the nether
The tear brought dark, stormy weather
The people of Belfast dropped to knees
Uttering prayers in repeats of threes
But Shaneise pulled them all together

As unimaginable evil rapidly descended
The entire town she fervently defended
earth, air, fire, water, and aether merged
So that the horrible evils could be purged
In the beautiful lands that were contended

Lord Dughall descended to the battle field
With is demon enchanted sword and shield
Shaneise’s power was almost depleted
But the Lord Mayor was overly conceited
The young elf refused to get herself killed

With her strength now almost expended
She lifter her head with her arms extended
With her last breath, she dug deep within
And the runes lifted off of her elven skin
The explosion had time and space bended

As evil was defeated and nether closed
Shaneise’s body lay lifeless and exposed
But the story wasn’t over for the heroine
The girl from Gryffindor had narrowed in
Primrose came and her life was reimposed

Masculine Sun

The sun. Masculine giver of light
2025 his spots reach thier height
His prime cycle of double one
When he dies, we are all done
And cold will be that fateful night.

Isn’t strange that Jesus was thirty three
Dying, completing three cycles, did he
And on top of that he is the “SON”
Do you see what I’ve just done?
I made the sun a part of the holy trinity

When men harnesses the sun power
The world will see a great light shower
Apollo, god of the sun, bringer of light
The masculine holder of oracle sight
More men need to harness this power

The Feminine Moon

Moon. Feminine mirror of the light
She lights up the darkest of night
When she’s full, she radiates energy
Charging crystals and water so tenderly
Sometimes she’s red and others white

The masculine are powered from the sun
But the feminine get to have more fun
As they power up from sun and moon
With the moon their bodies attune
With twice power, emotions can overrun

Apollo’s twin, Artemis, the moon deity
Goddess of the wilderness and chastity
She represents equality between gender
Reminding women to never surrender
To be any man’s acquired “property”

When the Seas Lose Their Sway

There is not a single thing I wouldn't do,
Not one mountain I couldn't move,
and When the seas lose their sway,
My love, to you, I'll still prove.

When Selene no longer holds the seas at bay,
Because the love of her dear Endymion she lacks,
Then the tide soon loses its way
And forces the seas to lose their sway.

So when the time comes and our lives begin to fade,
My love for you will always be here to stay,
even after the seas lose their sway.


A Cold Winter’s Night

Once upon a cold winter’s night
Snow began to fall ever so slight
The moon is full and ever so bright
On this night there is no fight

They come from all corners of the map
To connect and with the energies to tap
Where the ley lines come to overlap
Knowledge received will fill the gap

Knowledge of the gods to be spread
Secrets that accompany the dead
What knowledge was in their head?
What words could have been said?

We may never know of their demise
But to study their ruins we’d be wise
Who knows what profound treasure lies
Completely hidden from the world’s eyes

The Demiurge

When chaos and tragedy emerge
Before the eyes life’s events merge
To look up is many people’s urge,
But No matter where beliefs diverge,
Almost all paths eventually converge
And bring us back to the demiurge
What matters is where we splurge
Which things we choose to purge
And that we don’t become a scourge

The Imbolc Sonnet

As the women prepare baths
And the men start the bon fires
The floating rose pedal halves
Cold gives way to warm desires

Effigies of Brigid dressed in lace
To welcome in spring fertility
Blessed by Brigid in this place
There is an increase of virility

The seeds are thus planted
In advance of spring showers
While the goddess enchanted
Come spring comes flowers

The cold and dark near the close
As the bucks move in on the does