Fantasy/Science Fiction Poems (811)

Once upon a time...
(a short story by tinyfangs)

..a prince in shining armour who had never been a frog and couldn't be changed into one even if one would really be in need of a frog because of some fly infestation or so.. lost his way and ended at the foot of some huge tower.
He spotted up on the balcony a pretty maiden, and being male basically any maiden raised his interest, so he clambered down from his horse (which felt huge relief), and next he shouted...

Prince: Rapunzel let your hair down!

Rapunzel (who by pure chance was called Rapunzel, common name those days): Why would I want to do that?

Prince: So I can climb up the tower of course.

Rapunzel: And why would YOU want to do that?

Prince: Ahem.. ya know.. so that I can rescue you maybe?

Rapuzel: Rescue me from what? Princes trying to climb up my tower?

Prince: You do get this regularly?

Rapunzel (with a frown): You bet, every tinker, rat catcher and miller with a goat stops down there.

Prince: Ah I see... but you know I am not one of them, I am different - I am a real prince!

Rapunzel: Of course you are, they all are! A world full of princes out there, all falling over each other, I can almost picture it (adds a slight huff)

Prince: If you let your hair down, then I can come up and show you I am a real prince. How about that?

Rapunzel: And you think I am exactly how stupid? What could you do up here to convince me what you can't do down there?

Prince: I could show you my royal birthmark!

Rapunzel: And where would that be located?

Prince: A very private spot...

Papunzel: I have good eyes, can see it from up here if you care to show.

Prince: Now now.. can't do that, that's against the law.

Rapunzel: But you are the prince, you make the laws, so just unmake that law for 5 minutes?

Prince: The king makes the laws.

Rapunzel: Then maybe I should wait for the king instead to come by to show me his birthmark?

Prince (sounding slighly irritated): Has anyone ever told you that you are a damn hard maiden to rescue?

Rapunzel: Yes, every prince who ever stood where you are standing right now.

Prince: Bloody woman - just let the hair down !

Rapunzel (twirling one lock of her golden hair): Uh oh.. and what if I don't?

Prince: I will kick the door in!

Rapunzel: Good luck...

Prince: Oh you know what, I am just going to climb this damn thing anyway and God help you once I am up there..!

Papunzel: I am agnostic. You are going to prove the existence of God to me as well now on top of wanting to show me your royal birthmark?

Prince: Shut up, I am trying to climb here.

Rapunzel: Not bad progress. Oops.. you slipped...

Prince (cursing while scrambling back on his feet): This armour cost a fortune, just look at the dents!

Rapunzel: ...

Prince: This tower will be climbed, and if it's the last thing I will ever do in my princely existence!

I am asleep
I dream
I am flying

I am the sky
outside myself
above streets and buildings

Time and place
are nonexistent
I am moonlight
staring back at the sun

Updrafts of light
echoes off distant plateaus
above the blue earth
into the sparkling void

walking up the stars
through the nine heavens
and all the nine earths

I am me
set free
so astrally
in a sea of ecstacy...

And…… On this earthly part of Odin’s life tome,
Viking remembered…..‘Tis said this command is writ deep upon the Thunderstone…
“Strike away three times with thy hammer Thor,
Conjure dust from death to blot the sunlight out, to Shower thunderbolt and lightning down upon this curs-ed land, now and forever more”…………..

Aye too…..It lights our travellers way ‘cross that curs-ed land of wode!

So it was that even though this journey, was by the dark Elves forbode,
Out across this stenching marsh, Viking and Elf, our two hero’s strode.
For Myrkwood, the evil chameleon that it was, had changed now they saw,
Since last time they entered its darkened, leafy, gaping maw,
Everywhere, the all pervading odour of rotted wood,
Where something had killed the proud monoliths of fir where they stood,
Providing now, just a dull, Slimey, wet crunching underfoot of branch, trunk and root,
A sinking secret pathway, of a now lost to history route.
Following, always following……white green eyes would shine from bush like creatures of the night that slithered and moved,
And that the marsh was inhabited was thereby proved.
A Hellbat on occasion, mouth opened, baring white glistening fangs, would try its luck,
Would swoop too near, not fast enough, frozen in a lightning flash, a tendril, out would lash, and, from the air the luckless creature pluck.
An agonised, half choked scream would then ensue,
The utter evil eeriness of the marsh renew,
Echoing in unison with the dying thunderbolt against the empty fog,
The occasional upturned rotting log,
Intermixed with the unsettling, unremitting whispering, whispering, of the thing that would beat them, eat them, devour them if it could,
The creature thing that is all absorbing, the creature thing that is…….Myrkewood!

Wodegeld!
The demanded currency here for transgression is Viking’s and the Elf’s pure soul,
To be savoured and supped, from this most poisonous, most evil part of Myrkwood’s rotted bole.
With every sucking step, near every moving, tripping root,
Groping, slithering, slippery things tried to gain purchase upon each presented boot……..
In the far off distance now, across many leagues of murk and mire,
Stood a stone tower, a threatening funereal pyre,
For, atop this tower is but a single room,
That, never in its lifetime has seen a broom,
Aye…….All across this sea of muck is their goal and a bargain that must be struck,
For, in the middle of that room, on a plinth roughly hewn, sits the Thunderstone………..
And, to it chained…..Starving and alone…..
The first queen of all Odin’s Valkeryies, shivering with no modesty, winged helmet, spurs nor steed,
And too….With Odin’s unborn son, of rescue, is in direst need,
So this is the task….The quest…..On which our two hero’s have been sent,
Not this time, it seems ………For Odin’s idle amusement meant!

Nights of restless slumber
A longing never stilled
An eternity of searching
A void that she needs filled.

Dreams of deepest darkness
And wand'ring through the night
In need of desperate comfort
In need of love's delight.

For once he held her tightly
For once she had been his
For once he had been cradling her
And owned her kiss by kiss.

But something happened, something tore
Her from his dark embrace
And left her wandering alone
Like fallen from all grace.

The pain of loss and parting
Became her daily bread
An ocean filled up easily
With tears she since has shed.

To find her Lord and reunite
The love they once had known
She stumbles lonely through the night
Where once she was his own...

(2003)

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.

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He had persuaded her to walk
The silent wooded path
Where mushrooms grew and merigolds
Were blooming in the grass.

Magic lingered in the air
A couple seldom seen
A human boy, a fairy girl
Their laughter sweet and keen.

Unusual friends, it might appear
He tall, she small and slender
His footsteps sure and earthy typed
Her movements light and tender.

They reached the fallen tree trunk
He climbed the wood with ease
Then turned around to help her
His smile an open tease.

No way she'd take the offer
That went against her pride
Instead she planned to show him
She could take it in one stride.

Oh dear, what great disaster
Off balanced by a twig
She landed on her bottom
He laughed himself half sick.

The fairy stuck her tongue out
Then with humour quick and dry
She answered with her sweetest smile:
"And next time we shall fly..."

(August 2004)

You got me in tears,
That could fill up a pool,
You got me in fear,
Of making me your fool.



I don't worry when you're near,
Having you beside is so cool,
Guarding me with your amazonion spear,
Dressed in cashmere wool.

In a little old town of Kentucky,
There's a legendary tale of Morgan's secret recipe.
It was the time of the Great Depression,
A lighthouse shone out for the weak and the hungry.
A Christian family of 12 with their roots from India.
A father of twin boys plus five brothers and three sisters,
They were not the mafia but neither were they saints,
Bank robbers and infamous thieves of the rich,
They opened a cookhouse, shelters homes, a school and a grocery store,
Regardless of race,language or belief they help the needy and poor,
And they had many enemies of the most famous and wealthy ,
But none could point a finger at their criminal activities,
And so it started with hired assassins and killers,
Once while leaving for church they survived from a street shootout,
And another time a group of mercenaries came to their house for bloodbath only to leave as changed men,
But that soon changed when a stranger rode into town,
A mission for crimson blood and a messenger sent,
He shot and killed the twins in broad daylight,
He was caught, tied in the courthouse by the town folks ready to be hang,
The grieved father came to him with sadness in his eyes,
He did the one thing no one would have thought at that time,
He freed the stranger and said,
I've lost my sons for the crimes I've done,
You've done what you've been sent for and now begone,
Blood beget blood,death follows a trail,
God has given you a second chance to change your evil thoughts,
Don't let it all gone to waste!

. . . . . . .continued

"The Voyage To Where ?"


The weather is cold and the sea calm as the 'Columbia' goes out to sea.

Norrington and Jenkins finally fall asleep in their cabin while on deck

the captain fears something wrong with the ship, the weather picks up

to a squall as the 'Columbia' gains tremendous speed and a strange

mist engulfs the ship. She is travelling an amazing 2000knots and

then suddenly slows down. They are in a harbour once again, but

where are they ? It is now daylight, it having being night just an hour

before going to sea. The jolt from sudden stopping awaken Norrington

and Jenkins and they head up on deck. From the captain, Norrington

finds out the ship has travelled to some unchartered land, he

orders for a boat to be lowered intending to go ashore on a

scouting mission and asks for volunteers, Norrington and Jenkins go

along with Captain Dennis Owens and his first officer Glenn Hill plus

two crewmen. As they approach Dover harbour (is Dover here an

unchartered land?) the passengers and crew behold a very unusual

sight: instead of sailing ships they notice ships of strange types moored

in the harbour, along with the 'Enterprise'- the sister ship of the

'Columbia' which must be brand new, but appears to be worn out and

ready for scrapping. What are these strange ships, what had happened

to their own ship ? The Captain decides he needed some answers

(The Captain wishes to find out) so they all decide to board one of the

strange vessels. When on board they go below deck and find a propulsion

system of strange design on the cellar deck. they are all amazed at what

they see. The captain discovers the bridge of the huge ship full of weird

levers and instrumentation. Owens notices a placard on the ship's wheel

mount on the 'Albatross' built at Newcastle in 1929, as well as a calendar

dated 1930,and it all starts to make sense: the weird mist had transported

them through a time portal from 1750 to the year 1930.....

Is the crew of the 'Columbia' marooned forever in this particular time period ?

Is there any way back to their own time?

Make the discovery (Find out) in Part 10...."The Unknown World"

Posted the first day of each month.

Santa Baby
just slip black candy under the tree
for me
been an awful good vamp
Santa Baby
So hurry to my coffin tonight

Santa Baby
may I dare to nibble you some
for fun
I'll wait up for you dear
Santa Baby
So hurry to my coffin tonight

Think of all the fun I've missed
Think of all the pretty pires I haven't kissed
Next year I could be just as good
If you check off my bloodstained list..

Santa Baby
just one bite and really that's not
a lot..
You won't feel even a prick
Santa Baby
So hurry to my coffin tonight

Santa Honey
one thing I really feel I need
indeed..
just some drops of your blood
Santa Baby
So hurry to my coffin tonight

Santa Darling
ignore the feeling of pending doom
and gloom..
Listen not to your fears
Santa Darling
Just hurry to my coffin tonight

Come and trim the churchyard tree
with blood red bubbles, shiny and for all to see
I place my dark soul's trust in you
Let's see if you will trust me too...

Santa Baby
some blood loss isn't really as bad
as said
Pale is the fashion this year
Santa Baby
So hurry to my coffin tonight

Hurry to my coffin tonight

Hurry.. tonight