Cinderella

I once waltzed with feminine regality,
A radiant image of Cinderella,
Yet at the strike of a funeral bell,
Our Bal Masque was over,
And she fled,
Her carriage whisked aloft on the stars,
All pumpkins and fairy tales,
Leaving a glass slipper in my hand,
A reticent crystalline reminder,

Perhaps ensorcelled,
Or a talisman of a some Godmother,
Carved of pure diamond,
A spot of wine on the pointed heel,
It reflected my visage,
I was never a prince,
More of a goblin king,
A lich,
A villain of a Grimm tale,

And like a mirror,
Laid bare were all the reasons she left,
And who she was.

Flying Dutchman

We were thrust into the blue,
Our galleon lost in a dalliance with the kings navy,
Its back broken by carronade,
All seemed lost,
The stormy seas sang our funeral rites,

But a vessel emerged from the deep,
Its jaws cut through the surface,
Like a shark seizing prey,
Accompanied by a chorus of the damned,
Flaunting a figurehead of death itself,

This was a corpse of a ship,
A grim omen given form,
A hull of rotted wood and barnacles,
And sails taken from the skin of humpbacks,
Dimly illuminated by wisps in lanterns,

We look up fixedly in abject terror,
Bleary yet distinctly inhuman figures stood on deck,
Gawping down with eyes of rot,
A raspy call goes out,
A ladder of bone and tendon reached down,

I knew in that moment,
I would serve before the mast,
Come hell or high water,
For all eternity,
But still I reach up.

Elvish Rhyme

So human,
You intrude within our sylvan lands,
To take with hatchet and brutish man hands,
Your kind are not welcome here,
So out of our wood should you steer,
Err into our glade,
And there’ll be more than green for shade,
Arrows will come,
Thorns and poison on some,
There will be no end to your pain,
In comparison hell will feel tame,
Your wives will wail in their beds,
And once you’re all pierced and dead,
We elves will descend from our tree,
And dance upon your corpse with glee.

Sirens

Men before the mast,
Harken to me as bosun,
We give those crags a wide berth,
We are in treacherous waters,
Have ye not heard the tales?
Here be monsters,
A foul song haunts these reefs,
Feminine wiles on the wind,
Soft hands I’ve heard before,

Look not starboard lads,
Listen not to that tune,
Those fair forms are lies of flesh,
Those lips do not long for you,
Your loins be telling you false,
No pleasure will be found o’er there,
Only a dance of blood and sharks teeth,
As surely as the fog cresting the waves,
That song will be the end of ye.

Some writing music: Part 115

Hello there inmates!

How are you all getting on? Not frozen yet then I hope! It’s been a bit of a chilly one this week hasn’t it? At least it has been here on this island. It’s starting to feel a bit more like Christmas. So that’ll be feeling perpetually cold and having no cash whatsoever. There are certainly enough bright coloured lights everywhere! Happy holidays and such! I feel like my cynicism seems to be flowing at full power right now so I’ll apologise on that point. I’m loving life I swear! Haha!

So, speaking of loving life, who wants to listen to some music? Did anybody see the clue to todays musical theme? I thought it was a pretty good one, if I do say so myself.

Well, the musical theme for today is fantasy! Ahh of course! The realm of elves and orcs and short people with hairy feet. It’s one of my favourite genres in almost all mediums, behind horror of course. I’ve been fascinated with fantasy since my early years. Reading ‘The Hobbit’ and ‘The Sword of Shannara’ books back in the day definitely had an impact my interests going forward. I’ve written many poems about several facets of fantasy. From magic to mythical creatures, from wizards to worlds that don’t exist. It’s the quintessential essence of escapism, in much the same way as science fiction can be. I just think I’d rather be able to wield magic than fly a spaceship. How about you guys? Also, want to hear some music? I knew you would!

Join me as we delve into the musical minds of mythic artists the world over!

Spellblast – Goblin’s Song
http://www.spellblast.com/

TheFatRat – Fly Away
https://twitter.com/ThisIsTheFatRat

Eluveitie – Omnos
http://www.eluveitie.ch/

Nightwish – Amaranth
https://www.nightwish.com/

Aviators – Traveler’s Song
https://soundoftheaviators.bandcamp.com/

And there we have it for another week!

Did any of these songs whisk you away to another world unlike our own? I hope they cast a spell on you! I hope you enjoy each of these artists and check out their other music as well! They all deserve the attention and I’m sure you’ll enjoy them as well!

Speaking of enjoying stuff, let’s have some social media links. The asylum has a page over on Facebook, an account on Instagram and a page over on Twitter as well! Consider following me over on those pages too for poem clues ahead of time and other nonsense! Also, if you enjoy what I do here at the asylum, please consider supporting me over on the Ko-Fi page too! Thanks for everything!

Until next week, have a very crazy day inmates!

Krampus

All is quiet and pure under the christmas lights,
Families finally resting their heads,
With the younglings awaiting he in the red coat,
But be sure they are deserving,
Or they invite the Krampus,
The dark element of the holiday season,

A mountain of matted fur and goat horns,
Eerily shrieking basket upon his back,
Hooves upon the perturbed snow,
He likes to punish those bad boys and girls,
The ones who spit and mock the infirm,
And purloin them from their sobbing sires,

So young ones,
You better be good,
Show respect and eat your greens,
Or he’ll chase you giggling all the while,
You won’t be spared the birch rod,
And be whisked away by cloven hoof.

The Familiar

You see this creature atop my shoulder?
This fiend of mana,
This decrepit homunculus,
This breathing effigy of a devil,
Neither feminine nor masculine,
Something akin to an insect blended with a raven,

Be not afraid,
For it is beholden to me,
It is my familiar,
My arcane assistant,
Summoned to support occult exertions,
Clutching my nape with bestial claws,

Its feral eyes help seeing mystical patterns,
Its hand able to weave magicks beyond mortal ken,
As abominable as this thing appears,
It was created to serve,
To aid,
A sorcerers best ally.

Beastman

They call me a beast,
Better suited to the wilderness,
Out of sight and out of mind,
Poking fun at my snout and feral grimace,
And my growls of nonsense during dialogue,
Derisively patting me upon my bestial mane,

It’s true that I feel lesser,
I’m subhuman,
Flea-ridden,
I stumble across societal rules on all fours,
I’m a flawed simulacrum of a man,
Despoiled by minotaur horns and lizard eyes,

It’s not possible to tame a wild creature,
And my pelt isn’t worth mounting,
So leave me to my slavering and howling,
I’m hardly domesticated,
So why not run free?
I am a beast after all.

Sin-Eater

Before a vital spark can be buried deep,
It must be cleansed,
A soul given its best chance in the hereafter,
So call forth the sin-eater,
This soul worker will consume each lick of evil,
A feast at a funeral,
An ivory plate placed upon the husk,
Bread and grapes and coins pressed into cheese,
A glass of wine to wash down the sins,
The ritual cleanses the dead with knife and fork,
With each bite the deceased soul feels purer,
A spirit growing lighter,
Sanitised,
Absolved,
Saved.

Dryad

In the heart of sylphic woods,
In glades no man has ventured,
Does a lady of the green reside,
Behind an oaken mask she hides,
Confining an ethereal and virgin face,
Her hair is a canopy all its own,
Viridian and amber and verdant,
Cloaked in the very same foliage she loves,
A moss ball gown,
And this forest is her masked gala,
Here she speaks to deer and tree both,
Listening to their aches and pains,
And tending to their woodland souls,

She’s a warden in this jade locale,
A motherly figure,
And one this natural world adores in return.