Tuesday, 17 July 2012

Octa Who

Why has no-one ever written Skulduggery/Doctor Who crossover fiction before? IT'S AWESOME (if I do say so myself :P)

I give you the ONE... the ONLY... OCTA WHO!!!


Octa Who

All clad in violet garments as he steps into the TARDIS
His companion wears a peanut suit and calls herself Gladys
A quill pen by his ear and golden ink near his heart
Reciting lines of poetry as the adventure starts

He often wears a fez
Perhaps a bowtie or two
He loves the colour purple
And he calls himself
Octa Who

A group of cleavers on the chase
Does he never stop running?
As he searches for his loved one
With a plan oh truly cunning

He often wears a fez
Perhaps a bowtie or two
He loves the colour purple
And he calls himself
Octa Who

For Kallista was abducted by a pepper of Daleks
For her death would leave the Michigan Sanctuary a wreck
But will the Poet be too late?
As the air is filled with cries of exterminate

He often wears a fez
Perhaps a bowtie or two
He loves the colour purple
And he calls himself
Octa Who

 Octa overcame the Daleks
And he started to smile
But it quickly disappeared
As up pops Lord Vile

He often wears a fez
Perhaps a bowtie or two
He loves the colour purple
And he calls himself
Octa Who

For the Daleks were vanquished
By a temporal loop
Infused with human faith
And a drop of chicken soup

He often wears a fez
Perhaps a bowtie or two
He loves the colour purple
And he calls himself
Octa Who

Yet to overcome Lord Vile is quite another proposal
And Octallista must use every choice at their disposal
I will sacrifice myself
So that you can live in health

He often wears a fez
Perhaps a bowtie or two
He loves the colour purple
And he calls himself
Octa Who

Tears are rolling down his face
As she saves the human race
But resolve breaks through his dismay
Nobody is going die. Not today.

He often wears a fez
Perhaps a bowtie or two
He loves the colour purple
And he calls himself
Octa Who

It’s not too late. I still have time to save her.
Get China on the line for she owes me a favour.
Etching symbols with a silver knife
Kallista comes back to life.

He often wears a fez
Perhaps a bowtie or two
He loves the colour purple
And he calls himself
Octa Who

He steps into the TARDIS and in seconds is gone
The adventure is over and humanity will go on
Flying through the stars where no-one knows his name
He clicks his fingers and they burst into flame

He often wears a fez
Perhaps a bowtie or two
He loves the colour purple
And he calls himself
Octa Who

Monday, 16 July 2012

Silkensail

A journey into the surreal.

Enjoy.

So I failed to get to the top 100 but at least I can post it again.

Silkensail

I come from my home of Silkensail
Across the airy sea
Where the whales sing
In the golden glow
Of a distant galaxy

For in Silkensail I was born and raised
Amongst the liquored stars
Those orbs of light
Would fall at night
Like drunken raindrops- crazed but ours

I often dream of Silkensail
With its rivers of music
Flowing up towards the sky
Each drop a single note
That was able to fly

I miss my life in Silkensail
The sprawling forests of fire
Trees of cooling flame
That bit with frosty teeth
In summer
 
The pebbles always sang
In Silkensail
A stony choir
Wailing in their multitudes
Like fossilised angels

My family never strayed
From Silkensail
Guarding the amethyst cats
Quiet docile creatures
From the pirate ships
Who descended from the darkness
To plunder their bodies
And sell them to Emperors
And lonely old men

I never looked back
At Silkensail
Never stopped to admire
The sandfish
Great dunes of fish
Or perhaps it was a shoal of sand
The two were often confused
At Silkensail

Many years have passed
Since Silkensail
Where dreams would float as bubbles
Through the rays of the honey-moon
Inside each bubble dream
Was a miniature sun-bear
Someone to talk to
Of Silkensail

My home is gone now.
Is Silkensail.
No longer do I taste the afternoons
Dozily watching the soft pink clouds
Many people found it bizarre
But to me, it was my childhood
My love and my home
Was Silkensail








Blogland In (Ninety)-Nine Verses

What better way to celebrate my 100th blog post than a poem about blogland?

So my thanks to Mar who came up with the idea and to Jon Cozart for the tune and song in general which enabled me to write this parody. Originally I intended this to actually be 99 verses and for this to be a lot more personal involving the actual people of blogland. But instead I wrote this nine verse parody as it means all verses have a tune and it flows well and as I couldn't mention everyone in nine verses I decided to make it a history of Derek's actual blog with only small references to the community that has grown up around it.

Anyway I hope you all like it.

Enjoy and DFTBA!


Blogland In (Ninety)-Nine Verses 

There once was a guy named Derek
Destined to be a star
The author of Skulduggery
From Ireland his fame spread far

Yo Derek! You’re amazing!

After three books published
Derek started blogging
Under duress from a gentleman
With a golden crossbow
People started commenting
And many started following
Poor Derek couldn’t do a thing
But watch and moan

The blog it grew
Soon an interview
With the much admired Laura
Derek toured Australia
And praised the mighty fedora

Constant updates about his life
Earthquake in New Zealand caused strife
His niece is his niece
His dog’s his dog
And soon the weirdo freaks are rife
They formed an army
Of ninja leprechaun minion things
Who started a bizarre community
I don’t really get it either.

Doo doo doo
Friendships were formed
And we all wrote long fan fiction
With vampires and con-maids
Oh no! Fletcher Hair-Dude gets slain!

Then xat.
Derek, Derek it’s getting scary
Friends turn on friends
Arguments make people wary Derek
Keep the peace, keep the peace
Suddenly a bond does cease
The end of their “wedded bliss”
Many try to leave the chat
Yet strict rules put an end to that
So increases hostility
Merry days of old as dead as can be!

Years go by
We laugh and we cry
Encompassing
Both weddings and death.

There once was a guy named Derek
Whose awesomeness reigned supreme
The tale of Skulduggery will go on
The ending still just a dream 

Friday, 13 July 2012

More Than A Kiss

It's been quite a while since I last posted a poem. Here is something short and sweet. I hope you enjoy. If you're not a fan of tender love poems then perhaps you might like to skip this one.
Enjoy :D


More Than A Kiss

Sinking in a state of incoherent bliss
Tongues tentatively touching in a short cool kiss
The warmth of his skin and the scent of his hair
Hands meet then lips sweet without a care

A bubble of emotions erupts in my mind
And the world shrinks- just the two of us
We’re all that’s left behind
The moment seems to last forever
As we sink entwined together
Gently he rests on top of me
Alone together for as long as can be

Then at last he pulls away
He pulls me with, we start to sway
Dancing in a state of incoherent bliss
And I smile at him, at love, at this.