Most Viewed Fantasy/Science Fiction Poems (812)

Quickly she handed over the baby and showed him where the gardens were. The moment he was gone she ripped her dress, pushed her hair into disarray and splashed water on her face to simulate crying. The furniture she overturned and scattered all around. Then she ran, waddled really, to the King’s chambers.

“Help! Help!” she screamed as she entered, “he has taken our baby. He broke into my chambers and boasted that Rumpelstiltskin takes what he wants. He was heading for the gardens.”

The King despatched his men with orders to show no mercy. How dare anyone touch the Royal Prince. To do so would mean instant death. Heavily armed guards arrived in the garden. There they found Rumpelstiltskin as expected. Poor Rumpelstiltskin not expecting any trouble, thought that they had come to take him to his party. He was cut to pieces where he stood and his remains fed to the dogs.

The King and Queen lived, you might say, happily ever after. The truth about Rumpelstiltskin and his being betrayed was never told. Some time later two brothers, I think they were called Grimm, but I’m not sure, passed this way and they told the story quite different.

The reality was that Rumpelstiltskin was a poor innocent who had tried to help the Miller’s daughter and in return was betrayed and his good name besmirched.

Now I can hear you ask, what about the miller? Well I know that this is not part of the story but seeing that you asked.

Once his daughter was gone he suddenly found himself with money left over. No longer was all his labour going into providing for his lazy offspring. When he had enough money he decided to follow his dream, his main love. Drinking and being jolly. He opened a drinking establishment that he owned and not leased from the King.

This establishment he decided to call ‘The Miller’s Arms Hotel’. His fame quickly spread and people came from all around. Why he was so famous that they came from two counties over even.

Did he ever hear from the King and Queen? You guessed it, not even once. He lived to a ripe old age still being jolly to his last day.

Now you are the first to have been told about the shameful treatment of Rumpelstiltskin and how the truth was turned around. This is the whole truth and nothing but the truth.






THE END

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Darkened summer night
Great flying circle in sky
Beam me up Scotty

This is the strange tale of the Alligator Man
it all took place in the Amazon River, as a young
alligator is looking for food to satisfy his
needs. Above him a large storm was forming,
it had a very unusual red hue inside the clouds,
below the alligator was enjoying his find of a
large sea snake, when all of a sudden the
lightning bolts came crashing down in the jungle.
The alligator was very scared as he made for the
embankment, he tried to take refuge but was hit
by a powerful lightning bolt, he lay motionless as
if dead, within minutes he stirred, but noticed
something very strange, his body was stripped of
his protective armour, and he found the urge to
stand on his back feet, he noticed he was changed
somehow, his appearance no longer looked like
an alligator, his form was more human than before
as he walked through the jungle he found refuge
from the storm and his instinct now was to keep
warm, he lay down and fell asleep, after two hours
he woke up and had changed again, he was human
and found he could make noises through his mouth.
Leaving the cave he came across a group of campers,
he approached them and noticed the smell of food.
He approached the camp and tried to sneak away
with some hot meat that was cooking on a spit, he
went to pick it up but was stopped by a camper, the
Alligator Man looked in horror as they all got hold
of him, after a while they realised he did not
understand them, he suddenly collapsed on the
ground, he slept for an hour but when he awoke he
had become very old, the campers decided to take
him to the nearest hospital as they had not seen
anything like this, they gathered up their camping
gear and then went straight to the hospital, from
the rear of the vehicle they heard loud groans, they
stopped the vehicle and went quickly to the rear.
They saw the old man transform into pure energy.
What had caused this strange phenomena?, it seemed
that the lightning bolt had somehow mutated the
alligator's DNA and it cause an evolutionary change
making the creature evolve each time into a higher
form of life, the final change was pure energy and
thought, perfect in every way.

Slowly and methodically he crossed the road
Looking neither right nor left but straight ahead
Eyes glazed over as if in a different dimension
The cars whizzing past he paid no attention to

Was it a fools folly or pure sheer dumb luck
Not one of the cars travelling so fast touched him
They wove around him as if in a ritual dance
And he, master of the dance, moved on to unheard music

Reaching the other side he never hesitated once
There in front of him was the Interact Tower Building
All eighty stories of gleaming glass reaching skywards
But he did not see it, just mechanically entered within

He bypassed the lift and headed straight for the stairs
Step by step, landing by landing he climbed upwards
Floor after floor passed but he never slowed down
Nor did his breathing alter, he was as if in a trance

One could be forgiven if they wondered if he was human
Sixty floors later and he still walked as if out strolling
Step after step, methodically and totally unthinking
It was only when he reached the roof he temporarily stopped

For a moment it almost seemed as if he was confused
Slowly he spun on the spot like a music box ballerina
And then the unseen and unheard called him on
Steadily approached the West wall and climbed the parapet

There he stood, arms outstretched, embracing the setting sun
Far below the world was tiny, as if an ant colony
Slowly he looked around, his face no longer blank
Seeing everything around him as if for the first time

Emotion after emotion chased across his face
Fear, love, hate, hunger, sorrow, but most of all, regret
Regret for all he was going to leave behind
But he knew, there was no other way, no other option

One last look around and a muttered "Farewell"
He stepped off the edge, a calm expression on his face
Someone on the thirtieth floor saw a man hurtling past
By the tenth floor he had ceased to exist

There was no body to hit the ground, he was no longer here
Somewhere before the tenth floor he had gone home
Home to where? Only he and others like him know
For if there is one then surely there are more

With reluctance friends enter the unexplored woods
immediately Mosquitoes try infiltrating their hoods
They suddenly become spooked by an eerie sound
as other airborne pest begin to swarm around

They commence to machete through dense brush
moving cautiously determined to stay hush
Group huddles closer while forwarding deeper
faces depict fear of alerting a Predacious sleeper

Body parts bleed from prickly scratches
shedded skins lay visible in patches
Ominous echoes permeate their ears
eyes opened wide reflect hidden fears

They turn to one another uttering not a peep
realizing they may have ventured too deep
They seem paralyzed about what to do
adrenaline gives fight to continue through

Each stare at one another with thoughts the same
let's fall back to entrance from which we came
They all scurry as their hearts intensely pound
after exit exhaustion drops them to the ground

I know him to be a child of shadow. His will parts the veil between the mortal world and that of misty dreams. His eyes seduce me to question everything I’ve ever learned. I speak to the trees and never pass herb or flower, without quizzing myself as to its name. Each stone I step upon has a history beneath it, and there it has lain in wait for countless moons, holding its secret. My willingness to ask in silent contemplation, brings answers to light and therefore truth. Or is it not but magic?

He speaks to me of beauty, bathing my mind in its perfection. He speaks and becomes a body of water that flows with and through me. He smiles until my face shimmers with rays of the golden sun. But for all this,
I see his skill with darkness and chaos. He could neither say he was man or immortal. Magic is like air to him and I beg for more of the wisdom he might impart.

He teaches me to feel time in its movement, the pulsing of stars, the peaceful lapping of waves against smooth sand shores of my own mind. He makes me question how well I know season, element, earth or my own heart. The affairs of man have long since faded in this place of fantasy and have no dominion. I drift, further and further into him. Every ounce of darkness must have equal measure of light.

Merlin, you say when I harness this understanding, I shall know balance in all things. I feel whole, quenched and serene in the arms of the moon and its song. But wait...the veil now seams itself together and the familiar sounds of the life I knew, returns. Not a dream, I reason. Not a dream! If so, then I have dreamed many lifetimes in a single night. But it was so...

Hear ye, hear ye! Ye wretched
Villagers!
Let it be known that
The ' Terrible Three'
Have been captured
And carried off
Kicking and
Screaming. Lol.
They are in our
Pirate ship now
On their way
To Bamboo
Island
We have them
Manning the sails
And swabing the
Deck
And they'll walk
The plank if
They don't get
These dishes
Cleaned up!
We keep them
Sedated with Cafe
Tea and spicy
Bedtime stories
Once upon a time..

Do not attempt to adjust
your eyes
Do not marvel when you
read these words
You have entered a world
where mind and reason are
bent beyond the bounds of
space and time
You are between the edges
of shadow and candycane
reality
Here, we will collect the
fragments of your broken
consciousness and store
them in mind boxes for
further review
Vanquish all your preconceptions
A penquin will serve you a wine
glass filled with the unknown
equations of eternal dawn
You are at a lemonade stand
fixed between the rings of Saturn
and a primitive earth that has
received its final burn notice
Drink deep for you have fallen
into the abyss of endless endless
You have entered..
Poets twilight corner~

PART ONE OF TWO

The castle overlooked the vast Cornish Sea,
where Lady Igraine birthed a strong, healthy daughter.
The High Court of Cornwall feasted in celebration,
applauding Duke Gorlois as husband and father.

Morgaine was dwarfish, with piercing blue eyes.
Some say that fairy blood ran through her veins.
Her fate was to answer Avalon’s calling,
and revive the old ways with the dawning of change.

The child was fostered far from her mother,
and childhood coursed with study, not play.
Her maidenhood kept for the rites of Beltane;
so sacred a thing would Vivian betray.

Arthur remembered the eyes of the maiden,
for he was the Hunter at Beltane that night.
While Morgaine went queasy, silent and bone chilled,
her mind was crazy with panic and fright.

Her own dear brother had sired her child,
the bastard kin of Arthur, Camelot's King.
How could she tell him the horrible truth,
knowing the scandal and pain it would bring?

Arthur’s betrothed, the Lady Guinevere,
was the maiden he loved with all of his heart.
Merlin knew well she would prove herself false,
and in time, she would tear his whole world apart.

Versed in the old revered art of the druids,
Morgaine knew herb lore, magic potions and charms.
The spinning of spells was not without cost,
or she would have taken to Lancelot's arms.

How was it Guinevere dared to reproach her,
with sins of adultery and lust on her mind?
Time and again, she did well betray Arthur;
when her womb gave no yield, she thought God unkind.

King Uriens of Wales, wed the fair Morgaine;
a man old enough to be her grandsire.
At nine years and thirty, her purpose seemed scattered.
The King's son once kindled her passion and fire.

Once she had fought him with all of her might,
till his charm and persistence won her at last.
Handsome and virile, how Accolon teased her,
but that was a time that belonged to the past.

A time when they bowed to the will of the Goddess.
in service of Avalon, ensconced in the mists.
The mark of the blue crescent moon on her brow;
the great serpents twining 'round both of his wrists.

Morgaine resisted the fate of her calling,
not Queen of North Wales, at Uriens side.
She long had been groomed as Priestess of Avalon,
who ran all these years, yet still could not hide.

Trusty, old-growth wooden-handled axe
enables me to clear a spot to call my own
to fell trees, chop logs to make a home
and heat within walls to embrace my spirit
isolated, not by choice, now all alone.

That case of duct tape I decided to bring
enables me to construct so many things.
Using island vines axe-chopped as strings
I made a hammock from which to swing
relax, elevated, safe from what nature brings.

From versatile typhoon pants that keep
body warm and dry to a bathing suit
that another’s eye would surely catch
(were there anyone around to see)
duct-tape clothes both adorn and protect me.

And kayak, too, to surf the waves
duct-tape made without nail, wire or glue
paddles shaped by wood the axe did hew.
I fish and travel the sea under skies of blue
counting ten years until I again see you.

A bag, I cleverly fashion from duct tape
carries water, found, from source to home
Another, I did construct to carry food
collected from native plants and trees
or speared by arrows my axe did hone.

For those fine-motor things an axe cannot do
scale fish, slice, cut open or gently pry
a Swiss Army SwissChamp XAVT
was something that I brought with me.
Comes not with ten-year but a lifetime warranty.