A Princess of Midnight

Well this poem is for Isabella Midnight. You don't mind being an icy vampire princess do you? Enjoy!

A Princess of Midnight

In mountain peaks of Ireland

In midnight dusky wood

A wistful brooding princess

Devoid of human good

With eyes so melancholy

And pale vampiric skin

A mind so dark and vicious

A form skeletal thin

She waits in the welcome darkness

For a man from foreign lands

A cool, ice hearted creature

With cold immortal hands

She bathes in herbs and poisons

Hemlock and deadly nightshade

For glowing skin and purple eyes

From death is beauty made

A face forever youthful

With lips so black and red

And blood stained pointy teeth

A woman eternally dead

Her name is Isabella

She once was a black veiled bride

And now she walks in silence

With her lover by her side

A pale and icy princess

A dweller of the night

A burning love now frozen

By snows of time so white

She waits awake forever

With eyes that never weep

For the clasp of death eternal

And a never coming sleep

The Friends of Ann Marie

Well this is supposed to be cute. It may just have ended up as being a little strange. Either way I hope you enjoy!

The Friends of Ann Marie

Once on a farm was a kind, loving mother

She always was friendly and nice to another

And one sunny day, as clear as can be

She went for a stroll did our dear Ann Marie

And whilst she was walking, beneath sky so blue

She found herself followed by husband Andrew

And the two of them stopped by the shade of a tree

The husband named Andrew and dear Ann Marie

And they walked and they walked until whom should they meet?

As they heard the small patter of two sets of feet

For their daughters had joined them, now who can we see?

Two daughters and Andrew and dear Ann Marie

The girl called Leona was running ahead

And Rocket Star followed whilst eating some bread

When they both met a cow, as white as can be

Who said “Is there room on the journey for me?”

“Of course!” they all cried and the cow left the green

And followed behind them, all moo-some and clean

And they walked and they walked, now who can we see?

A cow, two girls, Andrew and dear Ann Marie

Now the family of four (not forgetting the cow)

Were soon to bump into a pink mother sow

Who grunted and snorted and asked Ann Marie

Is there space on the stroll for a piggy like me?

“Of course!” they all cried and the pig left the sty

And followed behind them beneath the blue sky

And they walked and they walked, now who can we see?

A pig, cow, two girls, Andrew and Ann Marie

And then who’d have guessed, they bumped into a horse

A horse is more fun than a tractor, of course.

Who whined and shivered, and asked Ann Marie

“Could I just tag along, I’d be great company!”

“Of course!” they all cried and the horse left its hay

 And followed the group, on this fine sunny day

And as they were walking, just who can you see?

A horse, cow, pig, Andrew, two girls, Ann Marie

And at last as the journey was starting to end

Ann Marie met with a great, special friend

His name is Firenze, he’s a wonderful goat

 And the words sounded funny, when they came from his throat

“If it isn’t a bother” then he jumped past a stream

Would you mind if you bought me some strawberry ice cream?

“No trouble at all!” they all laughed with glee

A goat, and a pig, and a cow, let me see

A horse, two girls, Andrew and dear Ann Marie

Garden of Death

Hmm... about the title. Garden of Death or Valley of Death? I can't really decide... just vote in the comments or something.
As you can maybe guess this poem is heavily based on two other poems that I really enjoy. One poem provided me with subject matter and the second with what Pyro labels as a "poem base"- basically rhythm and rhyme scheme.
Enjoy!

Garden of Death

I walked amongst the valley

Where all was sleeping still

That fateful fruitless rally

That charge straight down the hill

Refusal to surrender

The chances less than slender

A fiery death of splendour

Where crimson blood did spill

So many leagues they travelled

They travelled to their end

The plan became unravelled

But they did not amend

It wasn’t theirs to question

Nor make a small suggestion

Just die at their discretion

As mountain they descend

 The gleaming clash of sabres

The storm of shot and shell

The futile charge of army

In to the mouth of hell

Some bureaucrat had blundered

And so the cannon thundered

And left dead all six hundred

While horse and hero fell

The men were tired and weary

The cannons all around

And tested was a theory

As they fall to the ground

That death in war is noble

The concept became global

And fixed in time immobile

As corpses slowly browned

 The valley rests in silence

The zeal of vain glory

That good can come from violence

“Pro patria mori”

And beneath eternal night

Is a brigade made of light

Who are upheld shining bright

By telling their story

And now the thick, soft quiet

Envelops all that see

The remnant of a riot

Of inane destiny

Red rivulets of sand

A cold immortal hand

Alone in foreign land

Is all they’ve come to be

Friend Get Friend

Yes. If you haven't yet read the Skulduggery Pleasant Series by the brilliant Derek Landy then do so now.

Follow the link!

http://bit.ly/qNJYCP

Just look at that awesome cover! Thanks Tom Percival! It's outstanding!

Island Challenge Thing

Hmm.... well apparently I must rewrite this with out Kal in it.

Challenge One: Washed Ashore

I wake up on the shore of an island, the water from the sea washing over me, going into my ears. My eyes snap open and jump up. Where am I, I think. What is this place?
My clothes are torn and tattered, I’m barefoot. I look forward, and see a giant forest. The trees are thin, but block any sunlight from getting in.
I trudge toward the forest, and before I step in, I hear something behind me. I turn and see--

Kallista Pendragon in a tattered military uniform, alone and shivering on the same beach I had washed up on. As I raised a hand in welcome something dragged me back into a small barely noticeable cavern carved into the cliff face. I screamed in surprise, only to fall silent as something wrapped a tentacle around my face.  I heard the dull thud of someone- presumably Kallista crash face first into the rock face, only metres from the hidden cavern entrance.

“I must go over and see if she’s alright.” I thought. But first I had the tentacle creature to deal with.

I struggled to turn around and face the unknown monster, but it was futile, all I could see was the stormy grey clouds and the frenzied green waves. Satisfied that I was silent, the creature loosened the grip of its tentacle. As I turned around to stare at the creature that was holding me captive I noticed another monster emerging from the ocean depths. It seemed to be heading towards Kallista, who was rolling around on the sand by the sheer cliffs.

“Oh goody! Two monsters to deal with.” I murmured. Through the glimpses of the beast behind me I could make out a giant violin shaped body covered with writhing mass of multiple crimson tentacles.

“I never did like string instruments.”

 Suddenly a different tentacle wrapped itself around my face, a transparent one, with what looked like tiny hairs growing from it. But as this tentacle made contact I realised that these were tiny little stingers like jellyfish. The pain was immense, my whole face burning with spots of red hot agony. A strangled moan slipped from my mouth as something warm trickled down my legs. I had wet myself. I barely noticed the damp patch around my crotch grow; far too distracted with the stinging sensation that was crushing my face- sending tendrils of pure suffering deep into my brain. And as my consciousness started to shut down the only thing I could think of was “LET GO OFF MY FACE!”

Suddenly the pain withdrew as the creature backed away in discomfort. A hole was appearing in one of its tentacles and I realised that it must have brushed against my soiled trousers. The urine appeared to be an irritant, more; it was like some potent acid. “Huh, it really doesn’t like urea, I guess” I muttered and then “I need some new trousers”...

I turned away as the creature dissolved behind me, too disgusted to look. As I made my way to the entrance of the cave I saw Kallista battling with the other sea weed encrusted beast. A smile burst across my face- she was still alive.

“I drowned the fiddle in wee!” I yelled in surprise- the first thing that came into my head.

Kallista turned to look at me and a determined look spread across her face.

I glanced up at the cliff and saw I large boulder balanced precariously on a ledge directly above the monster. It was wobbling crazily; the vibrations from my screams must have unbalanced the finely placed boulder.

Suddenly it teetered and fell onto the creature- squashing it flat.

“That was easy” I heard Kallista mutter as she suddenly keeled over onto the sand.

And even bedraggled, wearing rags, and covered in sand and monster pulp, my love was still beautiful.

Seeking Starlight In Your Soul

Well at last I have completed my goal of a 1000 word poem. This was written as I gradually fell asleep as can possibly be guessed. I wonder who will guess where it was that I started to drift off. But still it adds a dreamy quality to the poem (I hope) as opposed to a dreadful words put down done sort of a quality. Either way enjoy!

Seeking Starlight In Your Soul

A thousand words inside my brain

About the stars or sky or rain

I dream of fame I dream of love

Of splendour and the worlds above

So many strands of poetry

Adrift and alone on a wide, wide sea

Ideas soaring through the air

Each beacons of wonder, a talent filled flare

My mind and my imagination

Buzzing with the familiar sensation

Fitting the multitude of words into place

Giving life, giving breath, forming body and face

Of the poem that sprung from a single quotation

The source of my newly born fresh inspiration

“Reach high, for stars are hidden in your soul,

Dream deep for every dream precedes the goal”

I read these words of purple brilliance

A basis for me with my lasting resilience

To move on from a recent fall

And clamber over another wall

A mighty wall that seeks to prevent

The one thing in life that would make me content

To not be forgotten, remembered as one

Who succeeds in his dreams, to shine bright as the sun

To build something lasting, inspire a friend

To leave something behind when I come to the end

To achieve an ambition, accomplish a goal

Uncover the stars that reside in my soul

So I draw words together, and add in a meaning

A dash of emotion and then starts the cleaning.

Polishing the diamonds, pruning a verse

And finding the rhymes which I have to coerce

Pleading they somehow will work in some fashion

Without spoiling the sincerity or dampening the passion

And the rhythms conspire against me to flow

I can practically hear them refusing to go

Where I wish but no matter, for though there’s never perfection

 At least I achieve quite a rhythmic inflection

Emotion to thought, and thought into word

If I stick to this rule, then I shan’t be deterred

And I end up with a poem so pretty and pure

And better, a poem that wasn’t, before

And I reach for the dizzy heights and dream of the goal

And seek out the starlight that shines in my soul

And not only do I make, but enjoy what others made

And build upon their former work, in a gleaming cascade

Of idealness and wonder and laughter and defiance

As I stand on the shoulders of previous giants

And although I know the future, is but an unspoilt past

And though existence is so temporary, yet words are built to last

I seek out the starlight, for mile after mile

So that I may share it and bring about a smile

So I write about a susurrus, and Night’s Plutonian Shore

 A tangled web of gossamer threads, and many many more

I tell the story of the cavernous pit, and the tale of the frying pan girl

And I sing of the sadness on the Elvianic Coast, and of pearl, after pearl after pearl

I relate to the teddy bear massacre, and to a beautiful goddess queen

And Golden Gods and Gentle Assassins, and alpacas that munch on the green

Infernos and tempests and defiers of dusk, of evenings forever disturbed

A thousands tales, a million sights, until the pen is curbed

And so I sail the maelstrom and the storm born silver waves

I trek through fields of clover and pass crumbling mossy graves

I write and dream and love and live, I ache, and quake, and see

I think, and work, and hope, and pray I run, and do, and be

I carry a simple message, though the message is unknown

For only you can understand what only you are shown

For every word that ever was has significance to all

From darkest dismay to rapturous enthral

So I sleep so long and deep

I laugh, I speak, I weep

And strive to reach the goal

And the starlight in my soul

I watch over the plains of endeavour

A land that lasts for ever

With no known boundary

Except that of eternity

And I go on and on and on

Until my inspiration’s gone

In my gentle lulling way

On this fine and halcyon day

For I don’t know when I’ll cease

In this wondrous magic peace

Softly softly sighs the moon

And the lapping of monsoon

Lapping lapping at my door

Seeking silence on the shore

As the restless rabble roam

Yet every road will lead to home

As I submerge into the dark

And the subdued shining spark

In the sleepy soothing dreams

Where nothing’s ever as it seems

“Better by far you should forget and smile,

Than that you should remember and be sad”

 The rustling of pages on a distant isle

The only sound that ever made me glad

And soon the lines that fingers gently type

Emerging from an almost sleeping brain

Shall drift into the comfort of the night

Or washed away by crystal rain

Musing from thought to random thought

As way leads onto way

Voldemort is terrified of cats

As day turns into night and night to day

Disturbing my haze

With a short jab of fear

Strange glowing lights

Can be seen on the pier

Wittering, flittering, slumbering rush

Silver sheen dolphins, silent hush
Quiet jubilance from on high
Frolicking beneath a silver sky

No more innocent

Sleep chocked rambles

Focus,

On the drowsy shambles

Penned whilst drifting far away

In cold cut clear as crystal clay

  And yet this is a brief respite

From the somnolent grasp of night

Soon again I’ll droop and dream

And linger in a land serene

Yet still the gush of words they flow

With no force saying where to go

So spread aimlessly round the page

Bereft of passion, heat or rage

I gradually bring them back to might

And reclaim the eternal height

Of ethereal sunless spires

And the thrum of cedar lyres

Caverns caught in ice and flame

The knowledge of an unutterable name

Splendiferous sentiments

Seemingly whole

The spirit recaptured

Completing my goal

So I stop and look back

At the way that things are

And smile at the soul

Brim with light from a star

An Evening Disrupted

This poem didn't make it either. Enjoy!

An Evening Disrupted

The calming rustle of leaves

As the wind brushes by

The patter of rain

From an overcast sky

The scratching of quills

The creak of a chair

The sounds of the evening

Are beyond compare

The crimson of sunset

The glow of the moon

The silver of raindrops

That cause the monsoon

The cream coloured parchment

The indigo sky

The sights seen at twilight

They pleasure the eye

The scent of a candle

The odour of ink

The cleansing fresh downpour

The minty lamb stink

The pleasant aroma of

Grass and of dew

The fragrance of nightfall

A tingling brew

The warmness of cocoa

The sharp tang of blood

The sour yellow bile

The choking thick mud

The salt and the sorrow

Of sweat and of tears

The bitter of panic

The black taste of fear

No smooth sensuous sheets

No coolness of silk

No plump juicy apricots

No spiced asses’ milk

Instead the rough touch

Of a coarse choking hand

The squeeze at the throat

A cold metal band

An evening disrupted

A lifetime disturbed

Sold into slavery

Psyche perturbed

Removed from their home

Beaten instead

Calm dusk destroyed for ever

Bought, ruined, dead

Final Days

Well this poem and the next poem I wrote in July and sent into a competition. Alas they didn't make it so I am now allowed to share them with you.

Enjoy!

Final Days

The greatest war

Run

Planets fall a million score

Run

Roiling, broiling, seething, breaking

Run

Burning, screaming, dying, waking

Run

The very sky is stained with blood

Run

A writhing, ochre, sanguine flood

Run

A torrential, never ending rain

Run

Of blood, and pitch, and death and pain

Run

Planets burn in ghastly fire

Run

A never ceasing funeral pyre

Run

A massacre of eternal men

Run

Born, slaughtered, born again

Run

Gassed, shot, stabbed, sliced

Run

Burnt to husks, atomised, diced

Run

Shattered, broken, ruined, dead

Run

Ground soaked, warm, red

Run

Mighty citadel, tumbles down

Run

Liquid metal, people drown

Run

Minds are destroyed, mad, insane

Run

Raging, weeping, tortured, slain

Run

Plume of smoke blots out the sun

Run

Final days have just begun

The Tempest Of Thor

Well I haven't heard from Thor for a while but I hope he'll read it one day and enjoy it. So I post this mainly for the rest of you. Enjoy!

The Tempest of Thor

The roar of thunder resonates across the heavens

Giant billowing clouds of cinereal temper

Form a rumbling avenue of squalls

As the rain lashes down in sheets of ocean

Lightning blazing in blinding moments

Of pure light and darkness

As Thor enters into the room

Tall, thin and mighty

His electric blue eyes hide behind shades

His war hammer swinging in the violent winds

As the tempest swirls in blustery grandeur

He smiles a crooked smile

As he commands the firmaments

Raining down tragedy

On those unfortunate wretches

Who crossed the path of Thor

The ghastly overpowering boom

Wrenching the sky apart

As burning ice

Tumbles into the void

A blizzard of hail ablaze

As Thor vents his fury

And as the deep ocean depths

And the pinnacle of the sky

Unite in a frenzy of froth and fog

Two extremities forced to combine

By the iron will of Thor

Black lightning flows from his fingertips

And the sea surges from his mouth

Electrocuting and drowning his foes

A salty torrent entices his tongue

And a tingling current caresses his hands

As the tempest rages into the night

Building as sea and sky combine

They submit before Thor

In a gusty climax

As the world begs its master

For release

That Which We Call A Rose By Any Other Name Would Be Just As Random And Frankly Peculiar As Bryony

Hmm... well here is a poem for Bryony. It makes hardly any sense. Don't know if you'll like it. *curses self doubt* But here you are! Enjoy!

That Which We Call A Rose By Any Other Name Would Be Just As Random And Frankly Peculiar As Bryony

A wonderfully eccentric girl

Only slightly, she claims

But no one’s as random, the whole world knows

As The All Singing, All Dancing, Bryony Rose

She once was a mango

She’s obsessed with Severus Snape

But she always was crazy and odd, I suppose

Was The All Singing, All Dancing, Bryony Rose

She looks fairly normal

She’s got eyes and a nose

And a mouth and some fingers, and even some toes

Has The All Singing All Dancing, Bryony Rose

But don’t let it fool you,

She’s as mad as can be,

So whatever you do, don’t presuppose

With The All Singing, All Dancing Bryony Rose

For although she’s insane

And has no taste in hats

She is good at breathing, and there are other pros

To The All Singing, All Dancing Bryony Rose

She always seems happy,

With her face in a grin

She just doesn’t have woes

Not The All Singing All Dancing Bryony Rose

And she knows how to eat

Though she tries eating plates

And she also wears clothes

Does The All Singing, All Dancing Bryony Rose

Can she fly? Can she whistle?

Can she speak Ancient Greek?

Is she friends with the crows?

The All Singing, All Dancing Bryony Rose?

She may be controlled by the weather

The sun and the rain

And the wind and the snows

Rule The All Singing, All Dancing, Bryony Rose

And she knows how to talk

How to read and to write

She knows how it goes

Does The All Singing, All Dancing Bryony Rose

And the questions she thinks of!

That can’t really be a fish you’re standing on, can it?

And an answer arose

For The All Singing, All Dancing, Bryony Rose.

For the nonsensically minded (and I am one of those)

Any sense in these words I shall try to dispose

Just revel in the marvellous words (not the prose)

‘Bout The All Singing, All Dancing, Bryony Rose

Dancing Through Life

Well here is another poem I've wanted to write for a long time. It's for Thalia. Enjoy!

Dancing Through Life

Carefree and mischievous

With a smile in her eyes

Thalia Circe laughs

As Dusk looks on in surprise

She babbles a lot in Spanish

Then beats him with a chair

Then leaves him lying on the floor

Staring at her black and messy hair

Yet those eyes of stormy grey

Are so caring and deep

So strong and silent when in pain

A treasure of talent asleep

An adept and a mind reader

So sensitive and kind

Yet even though her heart is large

She’s sometimes left behind

Yet her friends unlock her talents

And they marvel when they do

For her poetry is wonderful

Her stories superb too

And even when she’s crying

Her friends will help her through

And then Thalia is strong again

They know this to be true

She created the rainbow squirrel

And she has an evil cat

Diligent, clever, witty, crazy

Nothing wrong with that

Writer of Crown to Eye Patch,

 A Poem- Little Owl

Timeless Sergiyevskoye

Yet she’ll hide within a cowl

She thinks them to be dreadful

When the truth is that they’re great

And I constantly wait for more

For I really cannot wait

Though you may feel sad or angry

Though you may fill up with strife

You’re special, magnificent, Thalia-esque

And I hope you’ll go dancing through life