King

by

Midnight Mountain Ride

Midnight ring

nightingale screech of metal grind

vestiges of slumber—

in silent Chaos writhe

the World all sheltered black,

this Veil, it doth descend

betwixt the Heavens and the Earth

no more Fire, no more Song

yet Dappled Emeralds gleam

throughout the Haze of Waking

this World rise, Higher and Higher

tilting back, breathing in

the clouds, circling pull

Dream yet from Reality

and Everything of this Canvas,

rides Higher still into the Night

Destination: World

set it all below, and looking down

bask within the Golden River Shadow

of History shaped and cast

into the Towers of Majesty

Beyond Imagination—

the Stars and the Sea,

no King might ever rise

so High as thee.

* Another poem for the wonderful Monday Poetry Potluck, as hosted by Jingle Poetry, and those lovely poets Amanda and Kavita! The theme this week was mountains and beaches, and I couldn’t help but think back to my most recent venture in Colorado. This one was inspired by my time there in the summer–I hope you enjoy! Hope you don’t mind that I also took the opportunity to throw in some more of my pictures from that trip, even if they don’t match up quite specifically with the poem itself.

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by

A Man, A King

What is a man but

Flesh and bone gave breath;

Such mortal beast

To buck beneath

The reins of my imagination.

Cry out for me, ye bloodied hands

I am the stones arise on emerald hills

My flesh the graven gold

Of toiling back and grinding axe.

My blood be thee and thine

All rivers flow to mine

Call me God, for all I see is all I am

A fire in the earth

Tempered in the sea of sable madness

Yet to swim, yet to circumnavigate

My ambition, this thing of steel

No land might ever satisfy

The hunger of my soul.

All songs, they sing for me

Each note a dirge unto my memory.

Each breath, praise, for it is mine divine

Providence, they say, a god-in-man

Whoso could ever hope to say

I could not turn the tides.

I am the horse that rides,

I am the bolt that flies,

I am the child that cries,

He whom only fate defies.

Behold my majesty and yet despair

Of he who masters everyone

And nothing, and no one, still.

For the latest Monday Poetry Potluck!

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I Will Not Don the Black

I will not don the Black

I will not bend the Knee

I will not break my Oaths

Or break my Word for thee.

–

Take my Head

Or take my Hand;

Break my Body a Thousand Ways—

My Will shall ever stand.

–

Just because you own the Law,

Does not make you Right—

Just because you hold the Crown

Does not ignite my Fright.

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Fading Gods

He gazes down from hea’n above,

Watching through a powdered dove.

His people walk the Earth below,

Dreaming of what they can not know.

He sighs and turns away,

As his people begin to go astray.

He wanders then to ancient hall,

Where so many ‘fore had come to fall.

Broken statues linger here,

Of fallen Gods who’d known this fear.

That noble Odin,

That beauty Benten,

Oh great Anubis!—

All fell into the great Abyss…

Fear begins to creep,

Even Gods are known to weep—

Is he destined for this same grim fate?

Can he only pray and wait?

He is as great as any passed,

And his kingdom is so very vast;

He looks into their wand’ring eyes,

Ever watching from the skies.

Is this God destined for the same grim fate,

That fell on those before him?

They say he is so great a being—

But can he face that test of time,

That felled those powers all,

That came before him

In those days of old?