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The age of chivalry is past. Bores have succeeded to dragons.

quote by Charles Dickens
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Dragons

In the year of the Jade Emperor,
In the time of the people’s pain,
The sun was hot, the people groaned
The sky gave up no rain;
‘The sky gave up no rain, ’ he said,
‘The ground was dry as a bone,
There were no rivers or lakes to feed
The crops that the people owned.
The rice lay waste in the paddy fields,
The people ate bark and clay,
While on the shores of the Eastern Sea
Four dragons laughed and played.’

‘These creatures, made of snake and claw,
Of horn, and fire and scale,
Looked down to see the people pray,
To hear the people wail,
So Black, and Yellow, Long and Pearl,
For these were the dragons’ names,
Felt sad for the people’s plight, and said,
“We must bring on the rain! ”
Without the rain, the people die,
They are so poor and thin,
We needs must enter at Heaven’s Gate
So He will intervene! ’

‘They flew to the Jade Emperor
Who promised to send them rain,
But then sat back with his minstrel songs,
Forgot the people’s pain.
For ten long days the dragons paused
To wait the darkening clouds,
But only saw the people cry,
Lay out their dead in shrouds.
They laid their dead in shrouds, ’ he said,
‘The lastborn to the first,
The dragons said, “He heeds us not,
Won’t slake the people’s thirst.”’

‘The dragons flew to the Eastern Sea,
They knew it would bring them pain,
But to ease the hurt of the brown, dead earth
What else, but the soothing rain?
Now, dragons’ care for man’s despair,
His hopes, his joys, his tears,
They send their many blessings down,
Relieve the people’s fears.
They flew on out to the Eastern Sea
Its waters so clear and deep,
They flung it up to the heavens high

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poem by David Lewis Paget
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The Power Age

Key:-a - anita r - ray
R: welcome to the power age
Money, money, money
R: the power age its the new generation
We are the ones with no limitations
We had the iron and the stone
Now we got a new age that we own
But its not about the power that makes you blind
Its all about the the power thats in your mind
This is the time to get the power
The power age, this is the hour
So let the _ take you on _
A: woow...
So release all the pain that stood there before
A: this is the power age
So get with it, oyeah, you belong
Theres only one force that makes you strong
A: oh.. oh...
This is the power age
A: were reaching for the final destination
To break out of the cage
Get in to the power age
With all of the brand new generation
Its time to turn the page
We living in the power age
A: break out of your cage; into the power age
R: the age of destruction, the age of hate
And the age of violence and the ages of late
Greed and gain thats all they care
Money, money, money, with enough to share
So get with it feel the vibration
The power age its just a sensation
You can feel it down in your soul
When you let the force take control
So by now you better know the deal
A: woow...
You gotta to get high to get real
A: this is the power age
Free you mind to disgage
Welcome to the power age
A: oh.. oh...
This is the power age
A: were reaching for the final destination
To break out of the cage
Get in to the power age
With all of the brand new generation
Its time to turn the page
We living in the power age
A: were reaching for the final destination
To break out of the cage

[...] Read more

song performed by 2 Unlimited
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The Chinese Nightingale

A Song in Chinese Tapestries

"How, how," he said. "Friend Chang," I said,
"San Francisco sleeps as the dead—
Ended license, lust and play:
Why do you iron the night away?
Your big clock speaks with a deadly sound,
With a tick and a wail till dawn comes round.
While the monster shadows glower and creep,
What can be better for man than sleep?"

"I will tell you a secret," Chang replied;
"My breast with vision is satisfied,
And I see green trees and fluttering wings,
And my deathless bird from Shanghai sings."
Then he lit five fire-crackers in a pan.
"Pop, pop," said the fire-crackers, "cra-cra-crack."
He lit a joss stick long and black.
Then the proud gray joss in the corner stirred;
On his wrist appeared a gray small bird,
And this was the song of the gray small bird:
"Where is the princess, loved forever,
Who made Chang first of the kings of men?"

And the joss in the corner stirred again;
And the carved dog, curled in his arms, awoke,
Barked forth a smoke-cloud that whirled and broke.
It piled in a maze round the ironing-place,
And there on the snowy table wide
Stood a Chinese lady of high degree,
With a scornful, witching, tea-rose face....
Yet she put away all form and pride,
And laid her glimmering veil aside
With a childlike smile for Chang and for me.

The walls fell back, night was aflower,
The table gleamed in a moonlit bower,
While Chang, with a countenance carved of stone,
Ironed and ironed, all alone.
And thus she sang to the busy man Chang:
"Have you forgotten....
Deep in the ages, long, long ago,
I was your sweetheart, there on the sand—
Storm-worn beach of the Chinese land?
We sold our grain in the peacock town
Built on the edge of the sea-sands brown—
Built on the edge of the sea-sands brown....

"When all the world was drinking blood

[...] Read more

poem by Vachel Lindsay
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Pax Draconis

In days of old when dragons flew
amongst the clouds for all to see
They did not hide no reason to.
Men viewed them most respectfully.

They did no harm but culled the herds
of beasts too numerous to count.
No voice of protest to be heard,
the race of men of small account.

But men bred most prolifically.
Always their population grew.
The dragons lacked fertility
their numbers dwindled to a few.

Then man decided in his pride
to prove human supremacy.
It would be best if Dragons died.
The last few dragons forced to flee.

These Dragons hid themselves
away from man’s insensate cruelty
but swore that one day man would pay.
Rebuilt their numbers secretly.

The Dragons now are numerous.
Though disbelieved by modern man,
odd sightings seen as spurious.
Prepare themselves to rule again.

The U.F.O.s that some men see.
Not aliens from outer space
but Dragons flying fast and free.
New champions of the dragon race.

When they decide the time is right
they will erase the human race.
Take the revenge they feel is right
and once more take their rightful place.

As rulers of the earth and sky.
Mans handiwork will rot away.
With no man left to wonder why.
This was the price they had to pay.

The earth will be a place of peace
without mankind’s belligerence.
At last the endless wars will cease.
The dragon race have much more sense.

[...] Read more

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Chaos Rules for Friend Thad

The Dragoness last of her race.
Lies somnolent beneath the sun,
there will be none to take her place.
Remembering her youth long gone.

Three thousand years of life she’s seen.
The Dragons are a long lived race.
She can recall when there had been
a world of peace, a perfect place.

But upstart monkeys, protomen.
A warlike and fast breeding race
which quickly and grew again.
Usurped the Dragons living space.

They forced the Dragons to withdraw
from where they’d lived for centuries.
But still the men demanded more
of the fertile territories.

Though Dragons were more powerful.
By nature peaceably inclined
did not resist as usual
and this encouraged humankind.

To spread across each continent
and keep the Dragons in retreat.
Their numbers grew incontinent.
The Dragon race could not compete.

The Dragons rule brought to a close
The age of peace on earth was gone
simply because the dragons chose
not to resist.Should they have done?

That is the question in her mind
as she waits patiently to die.
The last survivor of her kind
She asks but she gets no reply.

The human race now rules supreme.
Rather a doubtful victory
A night mare fashioned from a dream
for man is mans worst enemy.

6-Oct-08

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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Age considers, youth ventures

Age considers, youth ventures

Age visualizes, youth dreams

Age makes theories, youth experiments

Age loves, youth longs

Age sees people, youth sees places

Age knows belongings, youth discovers them

Age pains to gain, youth gains to others' pain

Age has heart, youth has mind

Age is thoughtful, youth is tactful

Age ponders, youth wonders

Age recounts, youth counts

Age is experienced, youth is in experience

Age is cautious, youth dashes

Age floats, youth swims

Age lives, youth still making a living

Age is in touch with termination, youth with determination

Age is confident, youth is competent

Age adds years to living, youth adds life to living

Age is lost in past, youth is drowned in future

Age is grown, youth is crown

Ageless is youth, youthless is age

poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Video Violence

The currents rage deep inside us
This is the age of video violence
The currents rage so deep inside us
This is the age of video violence
Up in the morning, drinking his coffee
Turns on the tv to some slasher movie
Cartoon-like women, tied up and sweaty
Painting and screaming, thank you, have a nice day
The currents rage, the dawns upon us
This is the age of video violence
The currents rage so deep inside us
This is the age of video violence
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
His heart is pounding he switches the channel
Looking for something other than rape or murder
Or beatings or torture but except for walt disney
Its a twisted alliance, this age of video violence
The currents rage, the dawns upon us
This is the age of video violence
The current rage so deep inside us
This is the age of video violence
Down at his job, his boss sits there screaming
If he loses his job, then life loses its meaning
His son is in high school, theres nothing hes learning
He sits by the tv, watching corvettes exploding, cause
The currents rage, the dawns upon us
This is the age of video violence
No age of reason landing upon us
This is the age of video violence
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Down at a bar some woman is topless
Shes acned and scarred, her hair is a mess
While he shoves 5 dollars down her exotic panties
The video jukebox is, ah, playing madonna
While just down the block at some local theater
Theyre grabbing their crotches at the 13th beheading
As the dead rise to live, the live sink to die
The currents are deep and raging inside
The currents rage so deep inside us
This is the age of video violence
No age of reason is landing upon us
This is the age of video violence
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Na-na-na, na-na-na
Our good working stiff looks a whore in the eye
Ties her to a bed

[...] Read more

song performed by Lou Reed
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Palinodia

TO THE MARQUIS GINO CAPPONI.

I was mistaken, my dear Gino. Long
And greatly have I erred. I fancied life
A vain and wretched thing, and this, our age,
Now passing, vainest, silliest of all.
Intolerable seemed, and _was_, such talk
Unto the happy race of mortals, if,
Indeed, man ought or could be mortal called.
'Twixt anger and surprise, the lofty creatures laughed
Forth from the fragrant Eden where they dwell;
Neglected, or unfortunate, they called me;
Of joy incapable, or ignorant,
To think my lot the common lot of all,
Mankind, the partner in my misery.
At length, amid the odor of cigars,
The crackling sound of dainty pastry, and
The orders loud for ices and for drinks,
'Midst clinking glasses, and 'midst brandished spoons,
The daily light of the gazettes flashed full
On my dim eyes. I saw and recognized
The public joy, and the felicity
Of human destiny. The lofty state
I saw, and value of all human things;
Our mortal pathway strewed with flowers; I saw
How naught displeasing here below endures.
Nor less I saw the studies and the works
Stupendous, wisdom, virtue, knowledge deep
Of this our age. From far Morocco to
Cathay, and from the Poles unto the Nile,
From Boston unto Goa, on the track
Of flying Fortune, emulously panting,
The empires, kingdoms, dukedoms of the earth
I saw, now clinging to her waving locks,
Now to the end of her encircling boa.
Beholding this, and o'er the ample sheets
Profoundly meditating, I became
Of my sad blunder, and myself, ashamed.

The age of gold the spindles of the Fates,
O Gino, are evolving. Every sheet,
In each variety of speech and type,
The splendid promise to the world proclaims,
From every quarter. Universal love,
And iron roads, and commerce manifold,
Steam, types, and cholera, remotest lands,
Most distant nations will together bind;
Nor need we wonder if the pine or oak
Yield milk and honey, or together dance

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poem by Count Giacomo Leopardi
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Orlando Furioso Canto 16

ARGUMENT
Gryphon finds traitorous Origilla nigh
Damascus city, with Martano vile.
Slaughtered the Saracens and Christians lie
By thousands and by thousands heaped this while;
And if the Moor outside of Paris die,
Within the Sarzan so destroys each pile,
Such slaughter deals, that greater ill than this
Never before has been exprest, I wiss.

I
Love's penalties are manifold and dread:
Of which I have endured the greater part,
And, to my cost, in these so well am read,
That I can speak of them as 'twere my art.
Hence if I say, or if I ever said,
(Did speech or living page my thoughts impart)
'One ill is grievous and another light.'
Yield me belief, and deem my judgment right.

II
I say, I said, and, while I live, will say,
'He, who is fettered by a worthy chain,
Though his desire his lady should gainsay,
And, every way averse, his suit disdain;
Though Love deprive him of all praised pay,
After long time and trouble spent in vain,
He, if his heart be placed well worthily,
Needs not lament though he should waste and die.'

III
Let him lament, who plays a slavish part,
Whom two bright eyes and lovely tresses please:
Beneath which beauties lurks a wanton heart
With little that is pure, and much of lees.
The wretch would fly; but bears in him a dart,
Like wounded stag, whichever way he flees;
Dares not confess, yet cannot quench, his flame,
And of himself and worthless love has shame.

IV
The youthful Gryphon finds him in this case,
Who sees the error which he cannot right;
He sees how vilely he his heart does place
On faithless Origille, his vain delight:
Yet evil use doth sovereign reason chase,
And free will is subdued by appetite.
Though a foul mind the lady's actions speak,
Her, wheresoe'er she is, must Gryphon seek.

[...] Read more

poem by Ludovico Ariosto
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Neuromancer

Age of destruction
Age of oblivion
Age of destruction
Age of oblivion
Discovered love,
In the rancid days of ruin
My bodys sweatin toxins,
Of my own demise
Only from space, can you see
How much earth is burning
Smokin out the innocense inside
The child
Its the age of destruction
In a world of corruption
Its the age of destruction
And they hand us oblivion
Neuromancer and Im trancing
Im the neuromancer--and Im trancing
Man wallows in his insatiable greed
More in the answer that sweats
From desparate palms
Turn on the lies, the secrets,
Of our desolation,
Or be smothered, by the red hot core
Its the age of destruction,
In a world of corruption
Its the age of destruction
And they hand us oblivion
The neuromancer and Im trancing
Im the neuromancer and Im trancing
Im the neuromancer--Im trancing
Trancing
Trancing
And Im trancing
Denied love in the age of ruin
Suicide toxins of my own demise
In cyberspace, you know how much
The earth aint learning
Smoking out the man, inside the child--yeah
Its the age of destruction
In a world of corruption
Its the age of destruction
And they hand us oblivion
The neuromancer and Im trancing
Im the neuromancer and Im trancing
Neuromancer--trancing
Neuromancer--trancing
Neuromancer--trancing
Neuromancer
Age of destruction

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song performed by Billy Idol
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The Four Ages of Man

1.1 Lo now! four other acts upon the stage,
1.2 Childhood, and Youth, the Manly, and Old-age.
1.3 The first: son unto Phlegm, grand-child to water,
1.4 Unstable, supple, moist, and cold's his Nature.
1.5 The second: frolic claims his pedigree;
1.6 From blood and air, for hot and moist is he.
1.7 The third of fire and choler is compos'd,
1.8 Vindicative, and quarrelsome dispos'd.
1.9 The last, of earth and heavy melancholy,
1.10 Solid, hating all lightness, and all folly.
1.11 Childhood was cloth'd in white, and given to show,
1.12 His spring was intermixed with some snow.
1.13 Upon his head a Garland Nature set:
1.14 Of Daisy, Primrose, and the Violet.
1.15 Such cold mean flowers (as these) blossom betime,
1.16 Before the Sun hath throughly warm'd the clime.
1.17 His hobby striding, did not ride, but run,
1.18 And in his hand an hour-glass new begun,
1.19 In dangers every moment of a fall,
1.20 And when 'tis broke, then ends his life and all.
1.21 But if he held till it have run its last,
1.22 Then may he live till threescore years or past.
1.23 Next, youth came up in gorgeous attire
1.24 (As that fond age, doth most of all desire),
1.25 His Suit of Crimson, and his Scarf of Green.
1.26 In's countenance, his pride quickly was seen.
1.27 Garland of Roses, Pinks, and Gillyflowers
1.28 Seemed to grow on's head (bedew'd with showers).
1.29 His face as fresh, as is Aurora fair,
1.30 When blushing first, she 'gins to red the Air.
1.31 No wooden horse, but one of metal try'd:
1.32 He seems to fly, or swim, and not to ride.
1.33 Then prancing on the Stage, about he wheels;
1.34 But as he went, death waited at his heels.
1.35 The next came up, in a more graver sort,
1.36 As one that cared for a good report.
1.37 His Sword by's side, and choler in his eyes,
1.38 But neither us'd (as yet) for he was wise,
1.39 Of Autumn fruits a basket on his arm,
1.40 His golden rod in's purse, which was his charm.
1.41 And last of all, to act upon this Stage,
1.42 Leaning upon his staff, comes up old age.
1.43 Under his arm a Sheaf of wheat he bore,
1.44 A Harvest of the best: what needs he more?
1.45 In's other hand a glass, ev'n almost run,
1.46 This writ about: This out, then I am done.
1.47 His hoary hairs and grave aspect made way,
1.48 And all gave ear to what he had to say.
1.49 These being met, each in his equipage
1.50 Intend to speak, according to their age,

[...] Read more

poem by Anne Bradstreet
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Canto the Thirteenth

I
I now mean to be serious; -- it is time,
Since laughter now-a-days is deem'd too serious.
A jest at Vice by Virtue's call'd a crime,
And critically held as deleterious:
Besides, the sad's a source of the sublime,
Although when long a little apt to weary us;
And therefore shall my lay soar high and solemn,
As an old temple dwindled to a column.

II
The Lady Adeline Amundeville
('T is an old Norman name, and to be found
In pedigrees, by those who wander still
Along the last fields of that Gothic ground)
Was high-born, wealthy by her father's will,
And beauteous, even where beauties most abound,
In Britain -- which of course true patriots find
The goodliest soil of body and of mind.

III
I'll not gainsay them; it is not my cue;
I'll leave them to their taste, no doubt the best:
An eye's an eye, and whether black or blue,
Is no great matter, so 't is in request,
'T is nonsense to dispute about a hue --
The kindest may be taken as a test.
The fair sex should be always fair; and no man,
Till thirty, should perceive there's a plain woman.

IV
And after that serene and somewhat dull
Epoch, that awkward corner turn'd for days
More quiet, when our moon's no more at full,
We may presume to criticise or praise;
Because indifference begins to lull
Our passions, and we walk in wisdom's ways;
Also because the figure and the face
Hint, that 't is time to give the younger place.

V
I know that some would fain postpone this era,
Reluctant as all placemen to resign
Their post; but theirs is merely a chimera,
For they have pass'd life's equinoctial line:
But then they have their claret and Madeira
To irrigate the dryness of decline;
And county meetings, and the parliament,
And debt, and what not, for their solace sent.

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Don Juan: Canto The Thirteenth

I now mean to be serious;--it is time,
Since laughter now-a-days is deem'd too serious.
A jest at Vice by Virtue's call'd a crime,
And critically held as deleterious:
Besides, the sad's a source of the sublime,
Although when long a little apt to weary us;
And therefore shall my lay soar high and solemn,
As an old temple dwindled to a column.

The Lady Adeline Amundeville
('Tis an old Norman name, and to be found
In pedigrees, by those who wander still
Along the last fields of that Gothic ground)
Was high-born, wealthy by her father's will,
And beauteous, even where beauties most abound,
In Britain - which of course true patriots find
The goodliest soil of body and of mind.

I'll not gainsay them; it is not my cue;
I'll leave them to their taste, no doubt the best:
An eye's an eye, and whether black or blue,
Is no great matter, so 'tis in request,
'Tis nonsense to dispute about a hue -
The kindest may be taken as a test.
The fair sex should be always fair; and no man,
Till thirty, should perceive there 's a plain woman.

And after that serene and somewhat dull
Epoch, that awkward corner turn'd for days
More quiet, when our moon's no more at full,
We may presume to criticise or praise;
Because indifference begins to lull
Our passions, and we walk in wisdom's ways;
Also because the figure and the face
Hint, that 'tis time to give the younger place.

I know that some would fain postpone this era,
Reluctant as all placemen to resign
Their post; but theirs is merely a chimera,
For they have pass'd life's equinoctial line:
But then they have their claret and Madeira
To irrigate the dryness of decline;
And county meetings, and the parliament,
And debt, and what not, for their solace sent.

And is there not religion, and reform,
Peace, war, the taxes, and what's call'd the 'Nation'?
The struggle to be pilots in a storm?
The landed and the monied speculation?
The joys of mutual hate to keep them warm,

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poem by Byron
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The Boy and the Mantle

In the third day of May,
To Carleile did come
A kind curteous child,
That cold much of wisdome.

A kirtle and a mantle
This child had uppon,
With brouches and ringes
Full richelye bedone.

He had a sute of silke
About his middle drawne;
Without he cold of curtesye,
He thought itt much shame.

"God speed thee, King Arthur,
Sitting at thy meate:
And the goodly Queene Guénever
I cannott her forgett.

"I tell you, lords, in this hall,
I hett you all to heede,
Except you be the more surer,
Is you for to dread."

He plucked out of his poterner,
And longer wold not dwell;
He pulled forth a pretty mantle,
Betweene two nut-shells.

"Have thou here, King Arthur,
Have thou heere of mee;
Give itt to thy comely queene,
Shapen as itt is alreadye.

"Itt shall never become that wiffe,
That hath once done amisse:-"
Then every knight in the kings court
Began to care for his.

Forth came dame Guénever;
To the mantle shee her hied;
The ladye shee was newfangle,
But yett shee was affrayd.

When shee had taken the mantle,
She stoode as shee had beene madd:
It was from the top to the toe
As sheeres had itt shread.

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poem by Thomas Percy
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Be young at heart

BE YOUNG AT HEART

With age you will grow old with years that pass,
But clinging to your ideals you're young in class! .

With age your skin may see wrinkles;
With enthusiasm your soul tinkles! .

With age surging emotions may calm,
But vigour makes you youthful and is a balm!

With age you'd have had chequered life's path-main,
But the hope in heart, will in you, let peace reign! .

With age you may lose your appetite,
But with the joy of living you're filled right!

With age don't bow down with pessimism,
But set up aerials and catch waves of optimism!

With age you may not barge into adventure,
But fill much will in your very nature!

With age don't sag your spirits but hold it high,
And you with youth, will be ever nigh!

With age you're high in life's ladder's rung,
But with lure of Nature you'll be ever young!

With age don't worry and yourself blame,
But have an unfailing trust in life's game!

With age you've criss-crossed many a trouble,
But with your iron resolution you'll ne'er stumble!

With age there may be a tarnish in your appearance,
But your inner-self should radiate effulgence!

With age you acquire abundant wisdom,
And can promote youngsters to stardom!

With age you'll be rich with experience,
Which will offer help to the young in their séance!

With age when illnesses creep into the system,
Take care for remedial action and them stem!

Age will thus have no immediate call of Death's clarion,
And you'll die young as an octogenarian
or even a nonagenarian!

[...] Read more

poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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The Regiment of Princes

Musynge upon the restlees bysynesse
Which that this troubly world hath ay on honde,
That othir thyng than fruyt of bittirnesse
Ne yildith naght, as I can undirstonde,
At Chestres In, right faste by the Stronde,
As I lay in my bed upon a nyght,
Thoght me byrefte of sleep the force and might. 1

And many a day and nyght that wikkid hyne
Hadde beforn vexed my poore goost
So grevously that of angwissh and pyne
No rycher man was nowhere in no coost.
This dar I seyn, may no wight make his boost
That he with thoght was bet than I aqweynted,
For to the deeth he wel ny hath me feynted.

Bysyly in my mynde I gan revolve
The welthe unseur of every creature,
How lightly that Fortune it can dissolve
Whan that hir list that it no lenger dure;
And of the brotilnesse of hir nature
My tremblynge herte so greet gastnesse hadde
That my spirites were of my lyf sadde.

Me fil to mynde how that nat longe agoo
Fortunes strook doun thraste estat rial
Into mescheef, and I took heede also
Of many anothir lord that hadde a fal.
In mene estat eek sikirnesse at al
Ne saw I noon, but I sy atte laste
Wher seuretee for to abyde hir caste.

In poore estat shee pighte hir pavyloun
To kevere hir fro the storm of descendynge 2
For shee kneew no lower descencion
Sauf oonly deeth, fro which no wight lyvynge
Deffende him may; and thus in my musynge
I destitut was of joie and good hope,
And to myn ese nothyng cowde I grope.

For right as blyve ran it in my thoght,
Thogh poore I be, yit sumwhat leese I may.
Than deemed I that seurtee wolde noght
With me abyde; it is nat to hir pay
Ther to sojourne as shee descende may.
And thus unsikir of my smal lyflode,
Thoght leide on me ful many an hevy lode.

I thoghte eek, if I into povert creepe,
Than am I entred into sikirnesse;

[...] Read more

poem by Thomas Hoccleve
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Dragon's Delight

dragon's fire,
dragon's flame,
dragons dance and dragons play,
filled with darkness,
filled with light,
these dragons feel so delighted,
the bonfire blazes,
the dragons dance,
as the moon's twilight sets in the east,
their dance turns with fire,
as it turns into an inferno,
the dragons eyes shine like diamonds,
as the night continues into the day.

poem by Nicholas Spandrel
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Troll Named John

There is a Troll that nobody knows
-only the Princess Sarah Star -
who Troll protects so.
The Troll's first name is really John
who fights Razel ice dragons all night long—
Even when he's tired he still sings a funny song.
This funny song makes Razel ice dragons go back to sleep-
Troll has to make sure Princess Sarah Star is safe as sheep.
Protecting the Princess Sarah Star
from Razel ice dragon's ice fire—
Troll has abundant energy he never does tire.
Troll eats a lot of green mystical flowers—
they give him very magical powers.
The funny Troll must toll and fight—
Razel ice dragon can't stand the smell
of Troll's bad breathe late at night.
Troll also makes a funny sound-
that brings Razel ice dragons to the ground.
It's a loud roar that he does from his
gigantic creaky brown bridge door…
The door opens and funny Troll comes out—
he starts to bang around, stamping with a shout.
Princess Sarah Star hears this high up on her balcony—
then a fight that starts near the Ferronian trees.
Luckily funny Troll has power in that domain
he has traps that make Razel ice dragons go insane.
Now Princess Sarah Star can sleep soundly at last—
for funny Troll has made sure Razel ice dragons
are melted without a freezing chance!

Written by Suzae Chevalier on February 21,2012

poem by Christina Sunrise
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Loves lament

Loves Lament.

The dragon sings his mating song
and voices his sad loneliness.
To be alone he feels is wrong
he seeks a mate a dragoness.

He sings it from the mountain peaks.
A song of love and tenderness
He lets the world know that he seeks
to find a mate a dragoness.

But female dragons are so rare
his hopes of happiness are few.
His lament fills the upper air
there’s nothing else that he can do.

He sings his love song every night
when day is done and twilight falls.
He hopes one day that he just might
receive an answer to his calls.

He sings his plaintive melody
resounding clearly everywhere
and always listens carefully.
He’s sure that there must be somewhere.

A dragoness who’s lonely too.
One fine night he hears a voice
an answer that’s long overdue.
His heart aflame he must rejoice.

A dragoness has heard his call
and from afar she quickly flew
. She lands upon his eyrie wall.
says” I am Flame but who are you”

He bows to her and he replies
“ My name is Star I live alone.
Your coming took me by surprise
The greatest gift that I have known”

She says that she too seeks a mate.
His love call lifted her despair.
Perchance it’s time to celebrate.
She thinks they’ll make a lovely pair.

He then proposes formally
for Dragons are a polite race
and she accepts him readily

[...] Read more

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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One more time for M'lady Ernestine

I yearn to see the dragons fly.
Just one more time before I die
As I did so long ago.
Around Mount Kilimanjaro

I slept beneath the moonlit sky
and often saw the dragons fly.
It was a privilege to see
the dragons dancing gracefully

But I fell ill and had to go
back to the city far below.
Where the doctors treating me
convinced me it was fantasy.

Induced by fever of the brain.
When I was fully fit again
a crisis in the family.
Meant that I was no longer free

To indulge my wanderlust
I had no choice but to adjust
to the rules of society.
I am sure where I’d rather be.

In Africa where I could see
The silver dragons flying free.
I know I have not long to live
But what I have I’d gladly give.

To see the dragons one last time
To see them circle swoop and climb
Around mount Kilimanjaro
As I did so long ago.

Wednesday,15 September 2010
http: // blog.myspace.co, /poerticpiers

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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