The faerie are false and sparkle in the distance but some say they are just stars. We caught the stars but had to let them go, tis a secret to most what they truly are.

Twin Seas

one night a falling star falls
and a young girl sees it
across the sea so does a young boy
the falling star is supposed to signify the birth of a mighty warrior
one to unite the world
on the evening of the falling star across the sea a warring nation attacks the small country on which the boy lives
before the sunrise they attack his village along the coast
the girl across the sea stayed up late listening to the waves
the army kills the boys parents
and his village flees in rafts and boats
they are also a warlike people
just not as mighty as the conquerors who pushed them out of their land
they cross the sea and a two weeks later they land
the young boy jumps off the raft with a spear
the savages attack the girls village
a battle enuses
the boy thrusts his spear into the girls father
she sees
and the others kill her family
in the end the villagers fight all day
from the sunrise attack to dusk when they finally kill all the invaders, all except the boy
he is taken prisoner and adopted into a royal family
trained as a soldier and to be a noble
the girl is taken also but by her poor relatives
they forget all about it
but the boy never forgot how he lost his home and then his family
and the girl never forgot how she lost hers
then years later another war begins
one though of the poor people against the rich
the boy now a commander in the army moves his forces across the forests and fields
the girl prepares to defend her new village
the villagers meet them in battle
but before it can begin
the girl walks in front of the troops because she really didnt want to fight
the boy sees her
remembers
and he cries for the first time
since that night so long ago
he stops the war
but back home the war raged
and his whole family again was killed
he returns with the girl
to find he is the last of the family and even adopted he still becomes king
and she his queen
and he battles all nations and they all fall till they become one
and thus the world was united
not by his army
but by one girl who made him cry

Crystal Tears

I saw you cry once,
A crystal tear slowly dripped down your cheek;
An everyday miracle for a statue to weep.

At least in my sanctuary,
My fountain of happiness:
Your honey dewed voice all full of sweetness.

Why do the waters now taste bitter
To this simple imperfect christian?
I talk to a statue that cannot listen.

I whisper a love she cannot hear,
I scream this pain and die within.
"I am sorry I hope you understand,"

Those words come to me as an unwelcome friend.
This world of mine is broken and does not spin,
This heart of mine begins to crumble within...

You come to life and listen only to the screams
And my whispers of love were said to none;
My whispers of love were said to stone.

I saw you alive once,
Apparently even stone sins just like me.
But all you hear is my pain, this disease

Twisted and turned upside in and outside down,
Pain translated into the many tongues of fear.
The skies are darkening and the storms are near.

Now we stand apart, a statue and a monster,
And the winds silence my sorrow and my humanity
As I slip beneath the surface of sanity.

Nice poems.

Great Poems Covis... Great!

Thank you Sporkling and P/AK. My next one is also one from my archives written in honor of the Virgin Mary and all the other goddesses that have came before her and that she represents.

Mary's Mystique

my ancient princess
i search for you
in a thousand books
all except mystique eludes

i see you take trace
like the devil in the tile
in patterns that take shape
you of many titles

where are you antiquity?
inconclusive are clues
in scrolls and manuscript
all except mystique eludes

Elaine of Astolat & the Old Men of Kathmandu

they say a witch lives in the mountain
where old men visit a wishing fountain
once every one hundred years she appears
soothing, calming, taking away our fears

they pack their cares neatly in sacks
next to their diaries written in facts
with wishes like to be young once again
to take the hand of the lovely lady Elaine

ancients remember and you should as well
the time of cast spells when angels fell
she died in flight the sky island queen
her face someone said so lovely and serene

will they say the same of us i wonder?
in our coffins refusing to simply go under
will we be afraid to come down mountainsides?
to kneel beside the beautiful bride who died

pressing one careful finger to our lips
whispering prayers from some forgotten script
we all continued making the sign of the cross
as the whole court began mourning the loss

of our lovely lady, the lady of Shalott

Winter's Debris

My letters form fragile autumn leaves
Which tremble in the simplest breeze
Written in the forest of ancient script
Hidden from you in many secret glyphs
Deep within a dark glade sanctuary
My deceptions take the shapes of trees

My words form fallen autumn leaves
Truth is trampled leaving disbeliefs
Golden leaves tarnish and fall apart
Careful footsteps for broken hearts
Are eaten by worms and dark faerie
Leaving shadows of winter’s debris

Rose

Fragile and fallen
Stepped on and trodden
Watch your step and walk with care
Were you the only one to see it there?

A simple rose
As you draw it close
Thorns tear while blood flows
Still you hold dear never letting go

Imagine Him
On the cross without sin
No shining crown only nails
He loved you that day without fail

Is this life?
Every turn met with strife
Care is not easy when it is true
So hold onto this rose for this rose is you

The Huntress

descending angel whisper
into the ears of the beast

allay my every fear
as the monster does cease

yielding to your wonder
to your every charm

romance your crest and crown
i submit and disarm

orion's sword you wield
and your quiver and bow

sylvan sanctuary revealed
within the oak forest a throne

elven eyes gaze and imagine
this forest nymph as his own

Castle & Class

i.

it was just as it became night
she looked deep not trusting her sight
a carriage drew near alright
the driver not seen in the dim light
horses stopped their galloping pace
she held her breath frozen in place
the coach stopped as her heart began to race
the door slowly opened then she saw his face

quite handsome she thought with eyes steeled grey
his clothes reminded her of the olden day
she opened her mouth quite not sure what to say
he simply smiled with a 'greetings milady'
'it's much to dark out would you like to ride?'
she looked around no longer in city but countryside
not believing what she's seeing with eyes open wide
'do not fret my darling please step inside'

soon as she did and looked out the carriage window
she saw herself still walking alone down the road

ii.

spirited away taken by the faerie
little by little she started to worry
even so things were not all that scary
indeed her eyes became glassy and starry
and soon enough they came to the gates
greeted by guards and ladies in wait
she started to wonder 'what is this strange fate?'
even more so 'what is this strange place?'

(incomplete will finish soon)

Very cool Clovis
essence of dark and light is captured completely

These are very lovely.
How did I miss them before?

Great writing clovis

I've heard this somewhere before... have you previously published it?? thankyou for the poems they were fantastic!

Awesome writings.

Thank you guys. Owlscrying I do try and maintain that balance it is one of the most important things for me when writing thanks for noticing. mirrors yes I have published 'Mary's Mistique' before on a few of my past websites and blogs. Maybe on themestream too when that was still around?

Well I finally finished my second part to Castle & Class and was a busy bee and wrote three other poems in addition to that last night.

Castle & Class: ii

spirited away taken by the faerie
little by little she started to worry
even so things were not all that scary
indeed her eyes became glossy and starry
and soon enough they came to the gates
greeted by guards and ladies in wait
walking past tables set with golden plates
she started to wonder 'where is this strange place?'

rushed into a chamber they said was always hers
a four poster canopy bed and a kitten that purred
they painted her body and face in red ochre
dressed her in silks becoming a vision of mesmer
'do not stare too long into the pool' a tiny voice said
a small coronet was then placed on her head
a claddagh on her finger the heart so, so red
then down a hall a statue in her image bled

marriage vows exchanged during a storm
the tears did not cease and a banshee was born

Witchsong

it was the witching hour
between midnight and sunrise
dark ones have their most power
opposite the hour that christ died

she was singing sweetly outside
voice lulling carried by wind
her song one of years gone by
not heard around these parts in

no one sings no more!
especially this time of night
a happy song but who for?
just for her and the moonlight?

something though was not right
i looked out the window
half expecting a fright
but no one knows which way the witch goes

i saw her once as a child
face serene then oh so vile!

The Shadowen Mother

It is a masquerade ball
Outside my window
A party for one
'Or is it two my child?'

'Fear me' she said!
And took of her mask
The face of the dead
Of ten thousand pasts

Three more poems since the last two are actually considered one. I hope you enjoy.

Constellations

Lady Di hangs by a star or two
nocturnal animals with hands ready to catch
They stare into the sky and cry for you
and run away when the gods begin to clash

The stag, the bear, the night owl too
they run to Arcadia, they follow the path

Who will he appear as the beast or Callisto?
the child a king who will rule many nations.
But first must defeat the one in the crystal
his mother's father the wolf in translation

In the very end the gods make us all fools
for even when they fade away we're left in fascination

The Visitors: A Sonnet

we visit graveyards to honor the dead
hearts and flowers crumble, falling below
softly touched headstones and prayers are said
silent remembrance for those long ago

our fingers trace name and years from the past
calling to memories and stories once told
their words are only heard by the green grass
making us ourselves fear for growing old

so we dance and laugh breaking into song
adding up dates impressed by the strong last
sorrowing for those who could not live long
mixed feelings for a couple whose years matched

then we depart like the leaves the winds stir
leaving nothing except for how they were

The tragedy of war...

it feels like one of life's greatest tragedies
i can say this since it's been two years
will i carry it within me for the rest of my life?
this inability to escape the memory of you
it makes no difference if i give in or fight
cowards and warriors cannot hide or win
the battle continues long after the war
and the miracle of it all is i have survived

...and the memory of a rose

there is a locket i wear all the time
yet there is no precious metal or picture of you
the memories of loss are the thorns of my heart
and thorns never made the flower less true
beautiful to the eye if not to the touch
yet ever so often i hold on just so
and even if memories are not really you
i find it so hard to try and let go

All very beautiful poems! I loved them Clovis. Your a great poet .

These are very nice Clovis, I've been lacking inspiration for writing more poetry, perhaps I'm losing my edge?

Thank you grither you are a scholar and a gentleman. Very appreciated comments Azmodeus and yes I have lost my edge repeatedly in the past but this last month has been quite productive. Not in the scale of say Plath who wrote a poem a day for one period and compared to her some of us have no edges but are dull little things lacking in life, inspiration, and wit.

I'm going to have to look for this person's poetry, by the way, I just made another poem... Hope to hear from you on it.

Three more poems, the first is about mosquitoes, after an episode of being terribly bit one night, luckily only the females bite, but they do return to the males and throw some up so they can feed as well. The second is about domestic violence from the eyes of a child. The last poem was inspired by an RP session I had once which were one among many I had with that person which gave us a chance to develop our characters. Gah used to be so many people to RP with before now no one seems to RP. These were all written in 2004.

Silky Fire Metallic Wine

Beneath rainbows it is humid and hot
My skin ruined, no longer smooth just sticky
Demons dance like cursed pixies
And feast on sweet blood just underneath
Now torn flesh itching with poison
My skin ruined, no longer smooth

Flames form from razor tipped fangs
Silky fire metallic wine is served warm
Black winged flights over muddy puddles
In drunken highs of life’s own nectar
To return to those unable to savor
Silky fire metallic wine

Reina de la Tristeza

To the Queen of Sadness...

She rules a kingdom all her own
A sad little girl all alone
Shadows form behind cardboard
Cutouts that turn to flesh and blood
In a house of dolls where she rules
A sad little girl that dies and lives

A braided crown wrapped around
With glittery stars around her eyes
She sees all inside her house
Where the dolls love and cry
Hate and scream in voices not their own
With glittery stars falling down

How an Angel Says Goodbye

I saw her, maybe in a dream or someplace far away
Always walking, walking away but this time she sat alone
With hands around knees trying to find comfort in something
Wrapped around her shoulders were only her own black wings
Coal black hair framed her face wind tossed all over the place
Glowing skin gleamed but not as bright as her hidden dreams

She talked to me once, or was it really just a dream?
Words like liquid ice said from those pouty lips all red
Fangs formed then, how can someone so alive be so undead?
She cried for me once, a single tear shed from her dark eye
Forming a rose I can still feel flush on my face to this day
Walking away into the sky is how an angel says goodbye

Requiem Éternellement

in a digital world
i still work in a bit of an analog way
when i say hello
there is so much more that i want to say
feelings within
and how i see poetry in the universe
tiny things
the kind that all fit in a little hearse

i listen to grey's anatomy songs
but i never watch the show
i wonder if you listen too, or would you?
i guess i'll never know
and would you sing along with me
or when you are all alone?
these little lyrics form a requiem
my feelings on a gravestone

You speak of things with much beauty, and sadness
though to many ends, it's much madness.
these poems you write, and sing with such verse
will leave me in a coffin, in a herse
I die with joy, empathy, and sympathy
or is it a sign of telepathy
that not all great minds may think alike
but sharing thoughts with others is like riding a bike.

Exellent work Clovis. I look forward to reading more of your poetry.

I don't usually like to read poetry, but yours are simply beautiful, Clovis. I tend to stay away from the poetry threads here, but yours I find myself drawn to time and time again. I think my favorite one is the first one, Twin Seas. Those last two lines are wonderful. Simply wonderful.

Thank you Azmodeus and rosenrot. It is great rosenrot to read your simple comments which usually mean honest comments. Twin Seas was written without any thought or editing one night on Yahoo chat while telling a friend a story from scratch that was made up in the moment. We used to take turns at times telling each other stories we made up. I work painstakingly at some of the other poems and stories I have written but that one came out just naturally so to read you enjoyed it the best speaks volumes.

Here are three related runes (poems) connecting the goddess energy to three fairy tales in which I can see their essence. The fourth is the new image of the goddess and how she relates to the world now and in the future.