#munchkinofoz

[pressxtojasontodd]

thank the relatives in the middle of their festivities. then wear your ring and vanish. don't forget to hide your silverware before you do so.

but my birthday isn't for 31 more days

[blackhairedmetalhead]

The Dart Of Light

Thou art a pencil, thine duty is to serve, You shall write, and help the poet with his nerve, An instrument of knowledge, your crystalline blood you shall spill, And aid the world with facts that will it fill Thou art a weapon, a symbol of truth and art, Thine legacy is the reality, the sublime breath of the heart, Enrich the world, empower the young, And your humble glory shall throughout be sung. Thou art the light, though your blood is dark, And the page you grace will bear a pious mark, Thine marks of knowledge, the strokes of art, Shall pierce the ignorant Dark as though a dart, Thou art the Dart of glorious Light, No blade or bow shall dare match your might, Thine virtue is to aid, not kill or slay, A fiery torch, you light all Will, forever in honor shall be sung your lay

[blackhairedmetalhead]

The Poet and His Wish

I lift my pen today with little hope, Gaze at the dry page that blinds my eyes And block the light with inked words my mind spoke, With a cheap pen from the store that money buys I am not a Tennyson, Lord of the Brook, My words don't flow as well as I'd like, I am not a Frost, I'm no big name to look, And I don't speak of two forked roads that strike Awe and wonder in a reader's heart, And inspire several others, much like me, To take up this soulful art, That makes my mind eke out that which occurs to me And still I wonder what they had that I lack, Perhaps my pen must wander many miles of pages, Till comes a time when I can look back, And proudly rest my pen for ages I am not a Tennyson, Lord of the Brook, My words don't flow as well as I'd like, I am not a Frost, I'm no big name to look, And I don't speak of two forked roads that strike The hearts of readers and charms their minds. A rapt audience shan't give me peace, 'Tis a reader who the meaning finds, And knows my words, thereof my soul who sees.

[blackhairedmetalhead]

The History Of A Nation

Prologue Life seems to have answers to everything. People try to find answers to their problems; But the Answer is so clearly etched in front of them... When everyone wishes for a future with assets that reflect - -Reflect prospects with no liabilities, they don't realize - The Future Is Uncertain... __________________________________ Forever people have been slain killed, and have attained martyrdom for a land whose very ether and every grain of soil; permeates the cores of their very beings... They shed their blood like silt-laden rivers, which made infertile and gullible minds of peoples hitherto unknown to the world become martyrs and radicals, capable of thought, ideas and beliefs; so inspiring, it put to shame the so called 'High Breed' of humans... Those ideas swept the sea of a nation, like waves carried by wind's swift feet, over miles forever unknown till judgement, quenching the sun dried sands in the minds of suppressed people; Those people, who were figureheads of movements - Movements and Struggles for The Greater Good; Wherein all that was preordained before creation, would trickle down to the weaker masses, who would, inflamed and inspired, burn down the very soul of oppression... It is a matter of pride and sorrow, That such souls passed their waves of fire, of a passion latched to their hearts; so that an entire generation & its descendants, would cry out with joy and pride - "They were the ones! Yes! They were the ones!  Who gave us what we have!" And with sorrow remember, that they, men that they were, and the women that had been, were humans too, whose flesh and bone, were interred willingly, yet without dignity, into the soil of the Mother; by oppressors and obscurantists, who suppressed the desire and emotions of a pool of souls enraged and saddened at the plight of their children, their brothers, their sisters and their parents, The parents, who, wept over the victories of their offspring, And their tears had shown pride trickling out of their eyes, Onto their cheeks.... Which they willingly let flown down, into the soil, So that the soil would know, that the children were doing all they could, For her, the Motherland... It was too long a struggle; and people, mortals that we are, grew wary, and knew they must haste, before the coming of an era, an era where destruction, which resembles a thousand suns, could sweep away entire cities, leaving nothing in their path... "Haste! Make Haste!" though they; and thus spent sleepless nights; For a decade or two... And suddenly, the weight and tension; tore apart the world stretched taut, And madness urged forth, consuming All.... Every Land, Every Person, Every Soul.... When this period of apocalypse of humanity ended, then, it was time, for the bird to hatch, to break its shell and confront the world beyond... Hence, when twice the sun the earth had outdone, Then the bird took wing, With the people of the land, Hoping it would, Soar above and along the wind, Till the End of Time... So now the people were free, And the land was relieved; And a Nation was Born.... With its people proclaiming to the world : We are Free and Independent, now; And forever we shall be... Independent and Free, till the End of Eternity...... The bird had taken to the skies And so a Nation was born Epilogue A nation of ideals, principles, and beliefs Of conviction, love and determination to do- To do what all else had, and to outdo them all at their game... But no matter how strong a foundation, the building will always once tumble.... The wartorn and tired nation now sees the end of its horizon; Unless the seeds of the past Shall once more, sprout and burst forth, Enriching the Land with Life anew.....

[blackhairedmetalhead]

The Trailer

The trailer lies amidst flounders Strewn across mounds of ash Grow and prosper the wildest beauties With majestic curves slithering around Caressing the invalid intruder of space With green stems and tender touch A seed drawn below once before Now stands tall over the trailer Shedding tearful, yellow leaves As if in a holy offering To an object of no consequence To passers-by and travelers Which in fact stands, blessing in disguise A source of life for withering roots Nurturing  unknown flocks of gems   Life giving guardians and sentinels Which stand tall and proud Aside the road to nowhere A path which takes on The willy traveler towards Destinations varied and wonderful They shade the various pilgrims Hopefuls and the banished All alike traverse equally This road of Fate That goes on forever. It is a picture Of unequaled inspiration For those who dare to seek And find the truth and sublimity Of apparent fickle scenes Which lie scattered Along all our lives, waiting To be read and deciphered In the language of immortals, As rich thought, born of observance Which sails along across souls Preserved as ideas and sayings Left behind by those who saw A deeper meaning among the scenes in the play of life…  “……. caressing the invalid intruder of space….”  

[blackhairedmetalhead]

The Apparition

(The poem's first four lines quote H.P. Lovecraft.)

      That is not Dead

Which can Eternal lie…

Yet with Strange eons

Even Death may Die…

There where this is written, there

Eerie silence calls

The silence breaks all about

A scream about breaks that very silence...

Thereon the shackles black

Of death and iron alike

Hath been broken by the dead hand

For then the tombstone said

Rest In Peace

Aye, it was in vain

For with and when

The silence breaks all about

A scream about breaks that very silence

Thus all see the rebirth of the vain

The rebirth of the dead soul who sung

The damning of his darned hell

Here he lay, but not now longer

For,

Thereon the shackles black

Of death and iron alike

Hath been broken by the dead hand

That was...

And yet you see no ghost no body

All you may ever see is an Apparition

Thus you see,

Thus all see,

The rebirth of the vain

The rebirth of the dead soul who sung

The damning of his darned hell

The silence cradles all his curses

Like the song of the lonely damned

Like a beggar on a cold winter night

Sleeping without his wrapper tight

Even though the sun will shine,

Aye,

It has begun to be so...

This Apparition, the dead soul who sung

The damning of his darned hell

Didn't scream about like a ghost

Nor did he

Bask in the sunlight

As he did in the cold and hard moonlight

An age of such, in an eon like this,

You never did see, the apparition

Which walks about on moonless nights

Asking for nothing but, with the devil a series of  fights

To fight the devil for the wrong that had

Taken the life of this once, poor and damned creature...

Now a lonely apparition... screaming

With an edge to the voice, so sharp that one,

Would instantly believe him to be something

Who would make the devil cry

He did not rest in peace

Yet let his memories tho', rest in more than one awful piece

A power to him was now granted

Even he will not fear none

Yet he would be the saviour, the One...

To never die, to never rest

To get all those who were naught but pest...

No longer did the silence cradle his curses

Like the song of the lonely damned

Like a beggar on a cold winter night

Sleeping without his wrapper tight

Now even the windy silent nights, feared this once-half-a-human

Now even the devil is ready to get him to heaven

Not now, no, he wouldn't, cry all those pitied, damned things,

Of whose he has been the saviour

Like Robin Hood himself at night

Emptying the coffers of all the rich

Even having time to leave food for the cold, lonely finch

That had seen not a day of spring

A time which he himself despised

Never did he rest, never did he sleep

Never once asked for anything else

But for the welfare of the damned

Constantly sowing seeds that would

Someday give him the fruit of salvation

With his kind anonymous deeds

Yet didn't realize, the path he hath chosen

Would once lead him to something which

He once wanted

But now only hated

For now he had much of peace

So began he giving it away free

For,

He didn't realize, the path he hath chosen

Would once lead him to something which

He once wanted

But now only hated

Yes,

It was peace he once needed, much less wanted

Now something he only knew to hate

This, his synonym for hate he gave

To all those that needed it just as he once had...

The Lord now realized His folly

He rushed to the Saviour's aid

When once he ran out of his peace

‘Alas! Wouldn’t You understand -

-this great damned creature's one great wish?

I asked for naught but peace

But not for me, for all those damned

Who call me (God forbid I ever know why) their golden saviour

They know me not, tho' I know what they want, well enough

Because I once swam the muddy waters in their shoes

Peace! Peace! That is all they need, I know...

Then why do You shower it on me, when I pray and wish that

They be given that which You unkindly give me?!'

'Peace, child, you have been wronged, yes, I admit it.

But you have righted this world so much I sat fattening upon my throne

For you did my duty so well, I must say

I know you once thought that I help only those who aren't damned to die or delve in filth

But I only right the wrongs to those who be poor.

That is which you did so well

You once wanted peace, I granted it to you…

I had something else in store for you, and so now I ask

you to accept my gift of peace'

The almighty plays many plays...

He did so again with the Apparition

But now for the better.

'I cannot accept any more peace from you

If there be anything left in this world that still does wrong to the world itself

then I will not accept it anyhow.'

The Lord knew this coming

Thou shalt attain salvation, aye,

You have been blest with nothing but the best of all blessings

Accept my child, and you shall not be in peace

You shall be nothing but peace

Attaining me is what you will'

'Accept I do, I had prayed to Thee all my life without realizing it, ever.

Now I realize that I had been in vain.

Forgive me if there be still any life in me'

Forgiveness was never granted, it was attained by him

He became peace,

He became forgiveness

He became one with Him

The One true Self

Prayers last for all eternity

And yet...

That is not Dead

Which can Eternal lie

Yet with Strange eons

Even Death may Die

There where this is written, there

Eerie silence calls

The silence breaks all about

A scream about breaks that very silence...

Thereon the shackles black

Of death and iron alike

Hath been broken by the dead hand

For then the tombstone said

Rest In Peace

And so it finally held true... The inscription said so of this one, last great soul

And so I pray, not for him to Rest In Peace

For he became one with The Truth...

But to the Almighty himself…

Taking inspiration from him,

I do little acts of kindness, for I know after

This great soul left forever,

Little kindness exists in this world of the damned

[blackhairedmetalhead]

The Misted Miracle Of God

Shit. The ball sailed over the walls and out of sight….. Onto the roof of an old derelict building. So now I had to go and get the ball.

Upon entering the building I saw a sign that said

LIFT OUT OF ORDER

And an old manuscript stuck to it –

To earn thy Goal, Thou art expected to toil

I supposed I had to climb up to the last floor, where the ball was. It was a 15 story building; and I was a tad bit tired. Anyway, I began climbing up. I kept thinking about that awkward sign down by the lift. Funny way of making a point…I’m not a supernaturalist, nor do I care much about that sort of stuff anyway. I pulled out my iPod (thanks, Steve) and slid to a nice metal song… Iron Maiden are magicians….Presently, I climbed up the winding stairs; by the time 2 songs were over, I reached the top. I checked all the 7 rooms in case the ball flew up there.

Nothing.

So I went to the roof. Nothing there too.

I looked down.

“Dance of Death’s a real good song, isn’t it?”

I jumped. That’s what I was listening to at that time. I turned around.

I saw an old man in faded jeans, a white shirt with flashes of green. He was tapping his feet as if to some tune playing out there. Only there was no music playing out there. He was tapping along to my song; and he had no device on him. And- he kept perfect pace with the song on my iPod. Spooked out, I plucked up some courage – I tried to ignore his eerie way of keeping time with my song.

“Sorry. I didn’t see you earlier. Do you own this place?”

“This broken down thing? Yeah. Actually I own pretty much everything that you see around here.”

I didn’t get it.

“Oh I see.”

“Hmm… You don’t seem to have anything to do up here. Looking for something?”

“Yeah, it – you see – I – I’m looking for a ball, I think it landed somewhere up here. So I came –

He held up the red leather ball – “This you mean?”

“Yeah! That – thanks! You’ve found it.”

I held out my hand for the ball.

He began singing along with the song on my iPod.

“Had they danced, had they pranced, had they sang with them, All had death, in their eyes…..

Lifeless figures, they were undead all of them, they had ascended from hell………”

“Hey, is the volume too loud? Wait, I’ll turn it down..”

He held up a hand – “Nah, nothing like that. Take it easy kid, It just so happens that Dance Of Death is one of the songs I listen to once in a while.”

He paused and stood a good 4 minutes facing the hill on the other side.

Meanwhile, the song changed. He began singing along, although I hadn’t turned on the speaker or anything.

“Tell you a thing That you ought to know Two minutes of your time Then on you go Tell tale of the men All dressed in black That most of them Not coming back Sent off to the war To play little games And on their return Can't name no names Some strange yellow gas Has played with their minds Has reddened their eyes Removed all the lies And strange as it sounds Death knows no bounds How many get well Only time will tell" Only time will tell”

A sunny yellow, pleasant smelling mist surrounded me, clouding my mind.

“Who are you?”

“Rest assured I’m someone who’s taking you far away from here and because you don’t deserve what would have happened. Now sleep.”

He raised his hand.

There was nothing left.

Mom woke me up, shouting at me.

“Where on earth did you come from? You were playing outside weren’t you?”

“Wha – I – yes – no – I”

I stopped. There at the door, he was back. He held a finger to his lips, and I felt myself tumble onto my bed, my head flopping into my pillow. Only one thing slipped out of my mouth – “I came back…..”

And there was nothing left.

I began dreaming.

I was back in the building, climbing up the stairs, and suddenly, the whole thing lurched sideways – the building was collapsing! The walls swelled and cracked, and slabs and rods raced towards me.

And there was nothing left.

I woke up in horror to find that my iPod had still been in my ears and running. It was playing a song. Had he been God?

“Only time will tell……..”

And there was nothing left…

[blackhairedmetalhead]

I seemed to have accidentally untracked my own tag some time ago and I only just realized, so please don't freak out if I start replying and liking oooold posts....