Last Commented Fantasy/Science Fiction Poems (812)

for fells I promised you a poem

you may think me
a fiery dragon of yore
some called me royal
others say I was a knight

Be this as it may
If the truth is told
of where it all began
it was when druids
claimed me their own

and thus I was born
from mists of myths
I am purple pendragon
also known as King Arthur

Help,
Twin win,
Booted rooted outdated,
Million minion onion union,


(While) wild (child) smile mild,
That cat hat fat rat sat,
Spain vain Cain train brain (ain't) drain,
May always say today replay play stay away,

watching you walk away without that beautiful smile on your face
the center of the world revives around that one girl
a spirit so free and true noting i couldn't do
but watch and stare helpless but i care

every time she walks in a room just like a shooting star
as beautiful as they are there in and out there gone too soon
gotta find away to stop that angels smile fading away
it's my dream and my biggest wish just for today

To see the light of the sun the green of the grass
the tinkering sounds of a thousand birds
will all be signs that my only wish worked
helpless but i care if you need me i'll be here

The hours
And days
Pass so quickly now
Days become months
Months years
Years become decades
Where has life gone
Some moments I remenber still
Most faded lost and blarred
Time does not stay still
Slowly ticking by
Never to be recaptured or restord
Time is used only once
For we are on limited time
Down hill from now on faster and faster time
Goes by

He thought of his son, regarded Wolf, himself,
The golden shield, silver sword and great battle axe that started to rattle and strain against its hooks on the high wall shelf,
That rattled and strained more every time his son drew near,
Yes….All too soon he would be grown, these battle hardened relics own,
The big man wiped at an unseen threatening tear,
A slight wetness transferring to the back of his hand,
As his mind was dragged unwillingly back to that foreign land…..
To another time that, was still now and elsewhere yet, not another place,
Wolf….Whimpered in sympathy,
The fathomless dark of Myrkewood now reflected in Vikings eyes and face,
Wolf’s whimper now turning to a low howl…..Bared teeth ….Then a full blown growl,
Viking reached out….stroked his head….calmed him,
Both immersed in a stream of empathy,
They had both been, had both seen……
And now….So that Odin will not the Viking berate,
He must as promised educate……His son…Odin’s son in these matters,
All to him truthfully relate,
He had wished so many times he didn’t have to…..He was too Young…
Not yet…….Not yet….but then…..
The first gentle knock on the great lodge door…..
So now to the story…..forerunner to the eventual outcome, that is…was.....will be..…Ragnorok…
An event that would shake Earth and Heaven to its very core….

I want to escape my life at times
To some beautiful isle
Where my name is not known where I can pretend I am not getting old
I want to escape it all sometimes
The runs, ups and downs
Books and things
Cuts and bruises
Dollars and cents
Where can I go where no one will know
And I can recreate a paradise sure
And live in ignorant bliss forever more?

At heart of heart
watch for alone girl
waiting for the pale moon light
eyes forever changing ice to stone
stars upon a cold lake
Black rose
half wild
still slightly mad
bewildered by time
chained to the night
as she stalks
she might hear a sound
shift into a moonbeam
be gone

"The Masked Avenger"

Lamont and his men seemed badly outnumbered as the soldiers

burst through the barricades, shooting and killing indiscriminately.

Norrington realising the situation is desperate and decides to leave

the battle zone so he could once again become the Black Dove.

By now Garcia's men had captured the remaining survivors and

marshal them to a temporary enclosure until they can arrange

to move them back to Mexico for trial. In the dead of night the

Black Dove attempts to rescue the men from the enclosure. There

are three guards present making it impossible for the Dove to

rescue them, so the Dove sneaks past the guards and into Garcia's

tent. Sword in hand, He now forces Garcia to sign a declaration of a

new bill to be passed by the Mexican government, stating that

Monterey is to be withdrawn from Mexico now under the control

of the North America government, meaning the Mexicans have no

rights to the farmers' and landowners' wealth. The Dove now has

this declaration stipulating the Mexicans are now on foreign soil

and will be imprisoned if they do not leave. Garcia and the

Black Dove step out of the tent to give the order for his men to

free the prisoners and remove themselves from their lands.

Lamont and the prisoners cheer as the Black Dove finally has the

whip hand over the Mexicans. Lamont asks the Dove to reveal his

identity, who responds by saying he stands for justice and his identity

must remain a secret, and rides off into the distance. Making a Circle

and riding back he becomes John Norrington again and rejoins Bill Jenkins

on the journey back home. Boarding a coach they travel to Monterey

harbour, where they board the ship 'Columbia' making it's maiden

voyage, it's destination being England. The ship leaves the pier and is

finally at sea. The weather is cold and the sea is calm as the 'Columbia'

goes out to sea. Norrington and Jenkins fall asleep in their cabin at last

after there exhausting ordeal. Up on the deck the captain senses something

is wrong with the ship. As the weather picks up to a squall the ship gains

amazing speed and then a strange mist engulfs her. By this time the

ship is travelling at an amazing speed of 2000 knots, and then she slows

down to almost dead stop. Once again they are in a harbour, but where are

they? It is daylight again, it only having been night just for an hour before they left.

Where are they now ?

What alien force controlled the ship?

Make the discovery in Part 9...."Voyage To Where"

My eyes wander around the room, it’s a pleasant room as far as rooms go, but it’s a room in a retirement home. Light flowery curtains and matching flowery lounges and chairs. I’ve never been a lover of flowery furniture, it reminds me of old people.

The old people, well they are sitting here staring off into space. Waiting. Waiting for what? The next meal, or the next visit from their families, the visit that never comes. Or possibly just waiting for death to tap them on their shoulder and beckon them to follow.

I didn’t want to be here, did not belong here. Yes, I probably was just as old as some and older than others but this is not where I should be. My home burned down while I was shopping, came home to smouldering ruins, everything I owned was gone. I had nowhere to go so they shoved me in here. Bloody governments, always take the easy way out.

Here they don’t even let you go out for a walk in case you get lost or you get hurt. You are like a prisoner in maximum security. The doors all use a code to open, not that anyone ever tries to leave, they just sit there like zombies, but just in case someone does. Little do they know that I already know the code. When I am ready I will go for a stroll.

In the meantime I cast my mind back over my life. So many memories, good, bad and indifferent. It gives me pleasure to pull one out, dust it off and examine it from all angles.

I remember an old house, not sure if it was built out of stone or brick, but I do remember that it was rendered with grey cement render. It was three stories high and derelict, situated on an acre of overgrown grounds. No-one ever went near it for strange things were said to happen there.

I have always been drawn to the unusual, the not so normal. For days on end I would find myself near the house, looking through the overgrowth trying to glimpse the house. I fought my way through the garden to get closer to the house. The house just sat there like a huge brooding animal staring at me with sightless windows. I saw nothing there to cause me alarm.

Finally I decided to go there at night. As I approached the house I could feel the hairs on my nape rise. Something was different. Suddenly I saw it, a face at the attic window. I could not make out whether it was male or female, just a pale face, almost white.

My heart was beating so fast I thought it would escape my chest. I almost passed out before I realised that I was holding my breath. Slowly the face turned away from the window and was gone, not to return that night.

The next day I decided that I had to return to the house and enter it. I would go in while there was still daylight and await darkness up in that attic room.

It was easy to enter the house as a rear door had been left ajar. The reputation of the house assured that no-one would approach let alone enter it.

Inside the house was in a sad state of disrepair. Plaster had come away from the walls and lay scattered on the floor.

In places the ceilings were sagging giving the appearance that they were ready to fall any time. There was still furniture, although it was covered in mildew, rubble and dust.

The stairs creaked ominously as I slowly ascended. Although the stairs appeared to be quite solid I still took extreme care. It would not do to break my leg in here as it would be a long time, if ever, before help would arrive.

The last set of stairs leading to the attic were a bit rickety, but I managed to get up there. At the top of the stairs was a corridor leading to the back of the house. I was not interested in that, only the door facing me which was to the room I had seen from outside.

I had to really exert myself before the door gave way and opened. What had I expected? Not what greeted me. It was just a plain room with a double bed and a rather large wingback chair. This floor of the house had fared better as there was less rubble however dust was still piled everywhere. I settled down to await darkness.

As the sun settled and the house cooled there were creaks and groans throughout the house. I knew it was only the house expanding and contracting, all very natural. What was not natural was the light coming from the corner.

Slowly the light solidified and I could make out that it was a woman. A spectacularly beautiful woman, albeit a ghost, nonetheless a stunning woman. Ever so slowly she moved over to the window and stared out. As she moved away from the window she wiped her hand across her eyes, as if wiping away a tear.

I had never seen anything like this before and I was rooted to the spot. As if becoming aware of me she turned towards me. Her piercing blue eyes stared into mine, stared as if looking deep down into my soul.

Her face broke into a smile, more than just a smile, it was an expression of utter joy. She put her arms out as if to embrace me and as she did she slowly faded away.

I know it sounds improbable, even impossible, but in those few seconds I had fallen deeply in love. How can you fall in love with a ghost? I don’t know and even now I still ask myself that question, but somehow I felt as if I knew her and had known her for a lifetime.

I came back night after night but never saw her again. I felt I had lost a part of myself, an important part. For nearly a year I returned every night, until the demolished the house. Time had moved on and so I had to also. Some things have to be relegated to memory.

Slowly I became aware of my surroundings again. Nothing had changed while I was musing over my memories. Old Mrs Beaumont still sat exactly in the same position as before even though the best part of two hours had passed. She had probably wet herself by now, as is her wont.

Still too early to go out for a walk, to escape, so to speak. No good rushing this, they will only catch you and then give you sedatives to “calm” you. Another memory might kill some more time.