alpharaposa: (dragonread)
On the dragon breeding game, Flight Rising, there are "parentless" eggs that you can find. A group of us hatched a bunch of random eggs and then tried to make Valentine's dragons out of them. Below is my dragon, her familiar, and the submission I included with her.
Gen1stonewash
ghostwolf

Forever

Ice-skin
With stained wings;
Wolf-breath
With third eyes;
Hunt sharers,
Claw print and ghost mark
Step as one.

Endless ice.
Chains of black water.
Bright eye frozen
Open,
Warm,
Sun-touched.

Fierce ice hunter
Dons the sun
And seeks its mate.
Ghost-eyes guards her
And knows not why.

Forever.
alpharaposa: (Default)
For [livejournal.com profile] kyetsu:

The Dragon to His Love

I branded and spoiled a thousand knights.
I devoured kingdoms in my rage.
I looted trophies in fearsome fights,
And tore from stones a worthy wage.

I've gems laden with stars like night,
I've gold and silver coins like sand.
I've glamoured weapons full of might
And robes enchanted in every strand.

So shines this ruby in this light,
It blots my lair from mortal eyes.
Its beam might even flesh ignite,
But still I scorn such paltry prize.

For I care naught for all my store.
You are my treasure; I need no more.

Rhysling!

Feb. 18th, 2012 03:25 pm
alpharaposa: (Rumex writing)
Someone nominated this poem for a Rhysling award in the short poem category. I just finished replying to the notification.

Thank you, mysterious nominator! Seeing that email Thursday morning made my day.
alpharaposa: (Rumex)
For [livejournal.com profile] settecorvi:

Caught

One night, as I but barely slept
I heard dogs bay, a dozen strong,
With rousing bugle to stir their song.
I pitied the fox, that must accept
That all the tricks of that sly adept
Won't save it from that gathered throng.
The baying hounds, relentless and strong,
Would chase no matter where it crept.

Then later searching the muddied field,
I saw signs of only two great brutes.
So I, a descendant of Pellinore,
Took up my burden, never to yield;
She bound me against all other pursuits
When the Beast denied the manticore.
alpharaposa: (Default)
One of the side effects of writing so many sonnets has been a more active muse,willing to take on other subjects. Even in sestina form.

Data Entry

Sitting and typing, flying across keys,
Listing little things; Name, Spouse, Occupation;
Filling blanks to create an entry.
The turn of digits in intricate dance,
Pouring data into screen after screen
Every bit correct, to the last number.

Some claim this job makes the heart number;
Doors in the soul close with keys
Lost in that pallid, glowing screen
That stands at the center of the occupation,
Stealing us from the eternal dance
Til we can't even mourn its careless entry.

And the heartless work of making entry
Erodes us by inches. So, we number
The hours and minutes until we can dance
To the artful whims of some tables and keys
Flickering with life as the sole occupation
Of musicians listed on a miniature screen.

What kind of filter can we use to screen
Heartlessness and tedium from its entry
Into the grind of our daily occupation,
When all of our work is reduced to number
And letter and the clatter of keys
Where only our fingers are allowed to dance?

There is more than data in the dance
Between my work on one side of the screen
And the person in whose trust these keys
Are held that allow me intimate entry.
Each field described by name or number
Demands of me a respectful occupation.

While I work at this distant occupation
I join with that soul in digital dance,
Reminded to carefully audit each number
For the tiniest mistake within this screen
Can allow misfortune terrible entry.
I am the guardian of these keys.

No mindless occupation serves this screen,
But the dance of love. So, every entry
I count each number and watch my keys.
alpharaposa: (Default)
A rondeau for the Crowdfunding Creative Jam:

With horns and hooves a sheep descends
From where the rocky ridge extends;
The shepherd boy who doesn't talk
Daily drives his woolly flock
To where the river gently wends.

And every day the troll there sends
His herd of goats among those bends.
They mingle by the cloven rock
With horns and hooves.

And those two herds to one mass blends;
The troll and shepherd each defends
The whole of that ungainly flock.
No need for a misfit boy to talk
Safely there among his friends
With horns and hooves.
alpharaposa: (Default)
I'm still writing sonnets to the remaining prompts from so long ago!

Prompted by [livejournal.com profile] ariestess

To the ancients, the sea was a dangerous place
Full of great monsters; the kraken, the whale.
As he bent to the struggle with oar and sail,
A sailor often begged Poseidon for grace.
How pleasant it was to see a familiar face!
The playful seal that chased away fear,
Clowning about where the shore was near,
And crowning each rock with a sprawling brace.

But the sailor that smiled at sight of a seal
Oft changed his mind when he returned home.
For the wife he thought of with each empty night
Had been charmed away by the same playful zeal
And kisses that tasted of the ocean's foam.
O selkie, you stole our sailor's delight!
alpharaposa: (Rumex)
A poem I wrote for [livejournal.com profile] haikujaguar's words for this week. For a good chuckle, I can't top this comment using the same words.

The Seraglio Imbroglio

The master guard of the harem
Was an argosian wolf from the West
Who slept with two eyes open
While the other two would rest.

Essentially fierce are the wolf men,
But his manners were muted and chary.
His fur was soft and he kept it clean,
And his song could beguile a fairy.

The dourest slave had a smile for him;
He was lionized by the guardsmen, too.
And the women slept with easy minds
When he padded lightly through.

So the seraglio stayed contented
while the warg wolf watched his sheep
Until a girl with subfusc fur
Was numbered among his keep.

She was the meanest of the crew;
Her pelt was matted and dull
And her limbs were lean and rangy
But that hardly mattered at all.

He brought her the best of his dinner.
She allowed him to untangle her fur,
Brushing til it shone like an oyster
While the two would quietly confer.

The chiefest wife grew jealous
When the old man's eye was caught
By some mongrel sold at market
As part of the bargain lot.

Her garb concealed the bottle
When the wife was searched at last
while the old man's corpse was cooling
And the guardsmen stood aghast.

She went to her death protesting.
In the chaos, the two wolves ran.
They sought the sea and joined a ship,
The cap to a masterful plan.

That's them over there at the dockside.
Be careful if you have them as crew;
A wolf is loyal only to his pack,
And it probably won't include you.

---
This story is probably from the same tavern that this story is from.

After writing the longer poem, I was thinking over the various pirates and rough types in this setting, and composed a quick haiku:

She killed ten men
By the time I took down four.
They call her Pixie.

A poem..

Sep. 16th, 2011 11:38 am
alpharaposa: (Rumex writing)
Prompted by [livejournal.com profile] haikujaguar's words for this week.

And That's Why He's the Captain

We'd sailed three weeks from port
In the Erubescent Tart
When the ghost ship ran us down
With murder in its heart.

The bony galleon drew abaft
And we all drew our swords,
When the water began to darkle,
And ice grew on the cords.

Now our main calling is fortune.
We're a seedy lot, it's true,
But if you risk enchanted seas,
A charm might see you through.

Old Three Eyes has a hobby;
Whenever we get to shore,
He seeks a braird of moly
To grow within the store.

So while we hacked the bloated dogs
And cursed the wintry air,
Old Three Eyes quit the embattled deck
And plucked his garden bare.

He exploded from the hold below
And released his fearsome howl,
Hurtling blossoms like grenades
With every daunting growl.

We burned the vessel with its crew.
For proof, we kept the sail.
No wight will touch our lovely tart
And live to tell the tale.
alpharaposa: (Rumex)
[livejournal.com profile] haikujaguar has started challenging folks to write a poem or story based on the week's "words of the day". I originally posted the poem here: http://haikujaguar.livejournal.com/969737.html. This week's words were lenity, cerement, yataghan and adamant.

I'm reposting it here to "keep" for my own records.

Facing Death

They took the noble man,
And wrapped him in cerements of sheerest linen.
They placed beside him
The yataghan with the silver edge,
And placed upon him
Armor devised with adamant scales.

Thus they dressed him,
To face the demons of the underworld
That plagued the country
In spite of pleas for lenity.

Perhaps the sword
Would be the better argument.
alpharaposa: (momcub)
He crawls to me, wobbly even with hands and knees;
I lean down and hold out my hands.
First one hand is grasped, then two.
He pushes down against them, and rises to his knees.
Now the hard part. I lift my hands a little;
He pushes again and struggles, makes it to his feet.
Hands gripping mine tight, I watch him grin and sway.

Dance with me, my child.
Someday, you will grasp some other woman's hands,
And you will hold each other up,
Hold each other tight,
But today, you dance with me.
alpharaposa: (Rumex)
Welcome to the Poetry Kitchen! Today, I'm whipping up a batch of sonnets, and will make one just for you. Simply follow the rules below:

1) Give me ingredients! Give me a prompt – a sentence, a picture, or just a bunch of random words on your mind. Please keep prompts PG13.
2) The recipe is all sonnets today, but they might be Spenserian, Shakespearean, or Italian sonnets. I promise they will all have 14 lines and rhyme.
3) One per person. Spread the word if you know somebody who would like their own creation!
4) Please share! You can reprint or link to the poem, simply give me credit and link to my journal, please.

You may tip if you wish.

If I receive $50 in tips, I will finish up a short story about the humans in the world of this poem about Dragon Samurai, and post it for all to read.
If I receive $100 in tips, I will write a long poem (ode, ballad, epic, or similar). Anybody will be able to suggest topics, but only donors will get a say (via poll) in which one I tackle!

If I have one new commenter (whether they donate or not), I will record myself singing this poem. (I've had nine new commenters since I put up the challenge.)

Requests will stay open for a day! REQUESTS CLOSED!






alpharaposa: (white horse)
For [livejournal.com profile] that_guy_zach ages ago..

Constantinople

We built this city
On eternity's blueprint;
An edifice of forever,
A monument to God,

But we live in time.
Time ate the stones;
It drank our health;
It stole our strength.

The city was of the world;
The world laid it low.
We wept at what was wrought.

All worldly things pass away.
We who mourned mere moonlight
Will inherit the sun.
alpharaposa: (Rumex)
The 2011 Rose and Bay Award is accepting nominations for crowdfunded projects. Thanks to [livejournal.com profile] laffingkat, who nominated my Feasts of Poetry and Poetry Nibbles.

If you have a project that accepts donations or is otherwise funded by a crowd, you're probably eligible! Get more information about the award here: http://community.livejournal.com/crowdfunding/239698.html

If you want to look at the poetry project that was nominated, feel free to browse my poetry tag here: http://stryck.livejournal.com/tag/poetry
alpharaposa: (Default)
Two more poems from my last feast of poetry prompt below!

For [livejournal.com profile] anher

Something always goes wrong on the first day of school.
The rest of the year is fine, as a rule,
but something goes wrong on that first day of school.

But it has to happen, or the year is cursed.
If all goes well, then that's the worst-

It may be something large and hairy,
It may be something small and scary,
It always happens, so be wary.

Something must go wrong, so here I am
With a match in the kitchen, and grease in the pan.


For [livejournal.com profile] wyld_dandelyon

The Chocolate Chip Country

Oh won't you come with me
To the chocolate chip country?
There the marshmallow fluff birds fly
Across a hardcrack sky.

The children chase the gumdrop lights
of lightning bugs on summer nights,
And cinnamon dusts the butterfly wings
That're caught in nets of licorice strings.

Oh won't you come with me
To the chocolate chip country?
There the candyfloss flowers grow
Planted in smiles and bows.

Where every bend of a rainbow will
Yield seven flavors when distilled,
And sugar swans swim around and round
Where the taffy top cattails are found.

Oh won't you come with me
To the chocolate chip country?
There the caramel kitty-cats yawn
Snoozing in spearmint lawn.

Chocolate Chip Country turned out to be a song, so I'm making an offer. If all of you can get ten people to come read and comment who haven't commented before, I will hunt down some recording software and sing it for you. They don't have to comment on this post- I have comment notification on, so they might prefer other poetry posts or my world-building musings.
alpharaposa: (Rumex)
Having finished and edited the ode, I find that the original post is so old that most people will miss the poem! So, I'm reposting the finished poems early. I still have three more to do, and haven't forgotten.

Original post here: http://stryck.livejournal.com/773263.html

read poems! )

Still to come: poems for [livejournal.com profile] anher, [livejournal.com profile] that_guy_zach, and [livejournal.com profile] wyld_dandelyon






alpharaposa: (Default)
It would figure that he's the origin of the phrase.

Danegeld

IT IS always a temptation to an armed and agile nation,
To call upon a neighbour and to say:
"We invaded you last night - we are quite prepared to fight,
Unless you pay us cash to go away."

And that is called asking for Dane-geld,
And the people who ask it explain
That you’ve only to pay ’em the Dane-geld
And then you’ll get rid of the Dane!


It is always a temptation to a rich and lazy nation,
To puff and look important and to say:
"Though we know we should defeat you, we have not the time to meet you.
We will therefore pay you cash to go away."

And that is called paying the Dane-geld;
But we’ve proved it again and again,
That if once you have paid him the Dane-geld
You never get rid of the Dane.


It is wrong to put temptation in the path of any nation,
For fear they should succumb and go astray,
So when you are requested to pay up or be molested,
You will find it better policy to say:

"We never pay any one Dane-geld,
No matter how trifling the cost,
For the end of that game is oppression and shame,
And the nation that plays it is lost!"


-Rudyard Kipling
alpharaposa: (Rumex)
Here is your invitation to my feast of poetry! I have volunteered to cook one dish for each of you. All you have to do is ask.

The rules:
1) Give me ingredients! Either three words for a theme, or a link to an image or video. Please keep words and links PG13.
2) Give me a recipe! Tell me what kind of poem you want. It can be as simple as a rhyming couplet, or as complicated as a sonnet.
3) One per person. Spread the word if you know somebody who would like their own creation!
4) You can share! You can reprint or link to the poem, simply give me credit and link to my journal, please.

You can request a sonnet for your favorite lolcat, or a haiku for a sunset. Silly or serious. I promise to do my best.

I'm opening requests now. I may take a little while to finish these poems, but I promise to work on all of them. Please be patient - good food takes time!

New to this Feast is that I'm also able to accept tips. I will not starve if you don't tip. I will create a poem for you regardless of whether you tip or not. If you don't want to tip or don't have the funds right now, then please comment or spread the word instead! Comments give me creative fuel, and spreading the word means more suggestions come in for inspiration!







edit: requests closed, working on poems! Thank you for your requests.
alpharaposa: (Rumex)
I had only 6 requests, so here are all six haiku:

Washington D.C.
Spring brings us a festival
Sakura April

I want to be strong,
swift as wind, fierce in love, brave-
You, my exemplar

The impossible
Is my own invention, so
I can draw Muchness!

A distant bonfire
Casts its sparks across our sky.
What did you wish for?

In this bright blue vault,
Lines of distance with no nests.
But I still found you.

I see blood spatters,
Tumbled chairs, fading eye light.
My work here is done.

Go Here to see the comments and prompts.

This was a quick, fun exercise! Thank you, all who requested a poem. :)
alpharaposa: (Rumex)
Today I will prepare haikus for you! Comment with a prompt, and I will write you a haiku.

Da Rules:
1) Ingredients: Give me one or two words as a prompt, or link to a video or image you enjoy.
1a) Keep subject matter PG-13, please.
2) Recipe- all haikus today! Keeping it simple.
3) Share! You may share your poem, simply credit me and provide a link back. You can also share a link to this post to let others know about it!

Anybody is free to participate. Everybody gets one comment, so if you want to see more poetry, spread the word so that others will comment, too.

I work today, so I will start work on the haikus as soon as I can. Each haiku will be posted as a response to the comment requesting it, and I will post a round up of the bunch when I finish. I thank you for your patience.

(A bunch of haiku? A calligraphy of haiku? A contemplation of haiku? What would be the right phrase...?)

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