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Post by buxom9sorceress on Dec 14, 2016 2:55:15 GMT -5
~~~ Crushing ~~~ A strong barbarian the Python did chase They power wrestled each other face to face Ears and noses bled Eyes popped from their head They both died panting in each others embrace. ~~~~~ [ by Bux ] --- [po72] [ very grim. ] ... A wizard old did witness the fight To magi's eyes a strange and bloody sight Til bethought him a spell - The mangled pair from Hell And conjured their spirits that very night!
Hey Chris, that is lovely. Thanks very much for continuing on from my verse with your own new addition. I love some poetic interplay and 'back and forth' between us fun loving poets. Rock on!
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Post by buxom9sorceress on Dec 14, 2016 2:57:52 GMT -5
The Spectre from BeyondA spectre shadow did flit and did drift- In blissful expectancy he did explore; O'er worlds undremt he flew so swift- Crossing midnight seas and nighted moor;
Thru' rifts in time he sought him a lair- And hoped him soon a mate to find; Against a blackened sun's dark glare- Where spectral figures there entwine;
He dreamed of love and love's embrace- Knowing not one wit of mortal lands; He sought a pair of coal-black eyes- O'er volcanic glass and shifting sands;
The spirit wished a place called home- Where with one other he might stay; Be it on dry land or in briny foam- It mattered not to th' beast of Fey;
While spectres sought their fiery mates- Cavorting as two-backed beasts that day; To spell-cast snare the spirit fell bait- And to alien world was dragged in dismay;
Candles were set at cardinal points- As some strange figure o'er yonder stood; And salt was poured inside stone joints- While figure stared 'neath somber hood;
The spectre fought his prison well- A force 'gainst which he stood no chance; Until he saw twixt stone and candle- Where grain of salt had fell askance;
A narrow space, too small to see- But spirit eyes be not mortal clay; And thru' slim space he did him flee- To stand there grim before the wizard in gray;
Th' wizard's mouth did drop agape- As somber monster at throat lept; And watched demonic form take shape- His wyrmwood staff he upward swept;
Yet far too slow moved wizard's arm- As demon ripped out throat and gore; He thought that he'd been safe from harm- The spirit, his slave, forever more;
His dying thoughts all vain regret- And flesh the meal of monster dire; His death-curse spell he'd thought well met- Yet cannot harm a beast of hell-fire;
Now misery dogs that spirit's black hoofs- As here in mortal world he roams; And creeps thru' windows and o'er the roofs- And glares in at poets as they write their dark poems;
Bell, book and candle did doom him to stay- And so all alone he slays and he groans; Candle, book, bell did mark that dark Fey- So takes his pleasure in raw flesh and cracked bones;
Dear Chris, Your 'Spectre from Beyond' is superb, outstanding, and very well crafted. You have a huge talent for telling grim and very memorable twisted tales in rhyme. Many thanks for sharing. I look forward to any more poems by you... with excited expectations.
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Post by ChrisLAdams on Dec 14, 2016 8:43:25 GMT -5
Dear Chris, Your 'Spectre from Beyond' is superb, outstanding, and very well crafted. You have a huge talent for telling grim and very memorable twisted tales in rhyme. Many thanks for sharing. I look forward to any more poems by you... with excited expectations.
Sorceress, That's high praise - thank you so much. I think I read way too much HPL and CAS - not to mention I'm currently reading the Dresden series by Butcher. Lots of wizardry! One of my favorite spell casting stories of all time is The Double Shadow by Clark Ashton Smith - where it doesn't work out so well for that wizard, either! I have a funny story I wrote based on Double Shadow that I just reread the other day. I found it so comical I laughed out loud at work! In my version the serpent people leave a bag of flaming poo on Avyctes' front porch! Ha-ha! I have no idea where to post it, but I think any fan of Smith might get a kick out of it if they have a funny bone. Take care, and I hope to get some ideas for a new poem soon! Chris.
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Post by Von K on Dec 15, 2016 12:10:56 GMT -5
A great narrative verse there in 'Spectre from Beyond' Chris!
I enjoyed the Traveller too.
Double Shadow is one of my own faves from CAS.
I've been meaning to try out some Dresden Files. Jim Butcher seems in some ways like a modern day Lester Dent. Any author who can sustain the interest of his readers throughout an 18 book series (and counting) starring the same protagonist, has to be doing something majorly right. I seem to recall reading somewhere he planned a 22 book series right before or just after he'd written the first.
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Post by buxom9sorceress on Dec 16, 2016 3:52:57 GMT -5
########### >> CHRIS ADAMS SAID: ########### Sorceress, That's high praise - thank you so much. I think I read way too much HPL and CAS - not to mention I'm currently reading the Dresden series by Butcher. Lots of wizardry! One of my favorite spell casting stories of all time is The Double Shadow by Clark Ashton Smith - where it doesn't work out so well for that wizard, either! I have a funny story I wrote based on Double Shadow that I just reread the other day. I found it so comical I laughed out loud at work! In my version the serpent people leave a bag of flaming poo on Avyctes' front porch! Ha-ha! I have no idea where to post it, but I think any fan of Smith might get a kick out of it if they have a funny bone. Take care, and I hope to get some ideas for a new poem soon! Chris. Hi Chris >>>> you could post your new fun tale in our FAN AREA forum... [ just create a new thread /topic for it ] swordsofreh.proboards.com/board/4/general-discussion-fan-area[ i like a lot of CAS, too ] ==== i hope Dresden & co might inspire your magical quill? And some of the fan tales by Mirror-thief [and other member writers] may inspire you? Thanks, and Best wishes. ==== > Watch out for the beautiful 'Imelda'... coming to a rhyme here soon... [ i'm just digging her up ]
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Post by buxom9sorceress on Dec 16, 2016 6:48:18 GMT -5
~~~ Sunken Cheeks ~~~
The Sorceress got bored with male grunts and hairy parts
and with their bollock scratchings and beer scented farts.
So she sought to refresh a fond fling from her teens
A secret affair that still slithered into her dreams.
Way back in her youth in high Towers of Atlantis
to avoid the High Priest's lust: like a groping mantis.
She hid with her perky pretty cousin Imelda
in the dark cobwebbed dungeon she kissed and held her.
--[ verse 3 ]
After Mad Priest killed Imelda in his evil lust
Furious Bux poisoned him fast and then turned him to dust.
Now, Bux truly thought she had the mightiest power
to restore her lover like a fresh blooming flower.
Imelda's tomb was off the Barachan Isles coast
Could Bux raise the mummy of an ancient lost ghost?
Three ships and Magic were combined to recover
the sunken remains of her aeons lost lover.
The Coffin was raised onto grim mountain top, high
The dark Ritual brought storm clouds and thundering sky.
Lightning lanced into sacred phallic arcane stones
Stirring in coffin were flesh-dust and fragile bones...
~~~~~
[ the tale continues in prose ] ...
Soon, Imelda was raised perfectly from ages of death by the most powerful secret sorcery.
The precise lightning strikes had stopped, and purple smoke curled serpently upwards from all the redly glowing standing stones.
Her smiling fresh young naked beauty shone in the moonlight, but her eyes were black and looked soulless.
Imelda did not speak. She hugged and gently kissed Bux politely in silence.
Bux smiled wide but then fainted. She was exhausted and very drained from the long powerful magic ritual.
Then lively lovely Imelda cheerfully skipped off with 2 big strong workmen who Bux had employed.
Later...apparently... Imelda had fallen to pieces...
while the 2 men were loving her in bed.
Her gorgeous athletic body collapsed into a jelly-like mush.
Then her flesh began decomposing very fast.
The 2 big men fled horrified and gibbering...
One of them ran screaming off the 200 feet high cliff.
A huge tentacled open maw waited for him below.
It was the other man who later related the gruesome facts to Bux.
He had been found curled up behind the sacred altar in a small Temple of Mitra. He had been sweating and shaking and whimpering in terror.
Bux used her magic to help him recover, and later employed him as a gardener in the big castle of a friend.
So the shaken Sorceress learned a very tough hard lesson: that raising the dead may not last very long?
~~~~~
[ by Buxom Sorceress c.2016 ] --- [[po68]]
[ more weird dark horror from my twisted bleeding quill ]
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Post by ChrisLAdams on Dec 16, 2016 17:21:45 GMT -5
Hi Chris >>>> you could post your new fun tale in our FAN AREA forum... [ just create a new thread /topic for it ] swordsofreh.proboards.com/board/4/general-discussion-fan-area[ i like a lot of CAS, too ] ==== i hope Dresden & co might inspire your magical quill? And some of the fan tales by Mirror-thief [and other member writers] may inspire you? Thanks, and Best wishes. ==== > Watch out for the beautiful 'Imelda'... coming to a rhyme here soon... [ i'm just digging her up ] Sorceress, Reading Butcher's Dresden has indeed been inspiring to write stories, but hanging in this thread with you guys has inspired me to write poetry again. The last good poem I wrote, Zalasoros, was done earlier this year. Were it not for this thread I probably would not have written the new material you guys have encouraged me to write. So - thanks! I'm working on a new Arabian poem now. That stuff has always caught my fancy. Loved Imelda by the way - that'd make a great short story
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Post by ChrisLAdams on Dec 16, 2016 17:25:38 GMT -5
A great narrative verse there in 'Spectre from Beyond' Chris! I enjoyed the Traveller too. Double Shadow is one of my own faves from CAS. I've been meaning to try out some Dresden Files. Jim Butcher seems in some ways like a modern day Lester Dent. Any author who can sustain the interest of his readers throughout an 18 book series (and counting) starring the same protagonist, has to be doing something majorly right. I seem to recall reading somewhere he planned a 22 book series right before or just after he'd written the first. Von, Thanks for your comments. As I replied to Sorceress, this thread has really inspired me to write poetry again - a format I do not visit often. Per Sorceress' suggestion, I may post my Double Shadow spoof in the Fan Thread. Being a fellow fan of the story you might get a kick out of it. You should try the Dresdens - I find them fascinating. And creative.
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Post by ChrisLAdams on Dec 21, 2016 14:18:15 GMT -5
I adore Arabian fantasy. As a kid I devoured a volume of Burton's translation of Arabian Nights and wished for more. Later, after I started collecting the Ballantine Adult Fantasy series and discovered Khaled by F. Marion Crawford, I was delighted. What an awesome tale! I found it so inspiring that I later wrote my own short Arabian fantasy, a short story entitled The Treasure of Akram El-Amin which is available for free at Smashwords and Amazon. My latest poetic work, however, is the tale of Aziz which I am happy to share on the Pit of Set. I hope you enjoy. This is the only Arabian influenced poem I've written.
The Wish of Aziz
Some folk are born · ‘neath a dim, dark star- Their fortunes not fated · to be as others’ are;
A load just such · weighed down poor Aziz- As in city dross · he knelt upon his knees;
Orphaned at birth · and bowed beneath his yoke- Expelled from Kuzaktu · by the stingy city folk;
Some sixteen years · he bore their hateful scourge- His bright, happy spirit · crushed and submerged;
‘Twas a dim lit cave · thru’ a split he found in stone- And resided in the desert · in his stony home, alone;
Th’ nights he found quite chill · as he curled ‘pon the sands- In cold abode of stone · out in those desert lands;
The city lay afar · as some glinting, desert gem- Its walls and minarets · a Persian diadem;
Til earthquake rumbles shook · aging bedrock stone- Caused the sands to sink · the continent to groan;
The city paid in blood · for injustices they’d served- Buildings fell a-crumble · slaying guiltless with deserved;
In his cave Aziz fared well · but later found a hole- To secret, unknown chamber · t’ fright his youthful soul;
Finding heart · he inward crept · determined to explore- And found an oil lamp · lying ‘pon the stony floor;
At his touch · a lass sprang forth · or torso as it may- Below her waist a filmy mist · and vapor drift’ his way;
Her face was cross · her gaze intent · her eyes spat desert fire- And poor Aziz · dropped the lamp · and quailed beneath her ire;
Ye wish to wish a wish, I’d wage · the jinni did declare- Then wish it and be done, quoth she · with a toss of flaming hair;
From fearful fears to full amaze · Aziz did then behold- A beauty more refined · than the best and purest gold;
There’s much to want · and much to wish · I know not what to say- I think I must then ponder this · and wish another day;
Wullah, quoth the genie fair, Well, then · if thou must- Perhaps come morn · thou mightest wish · an’ be done with this, I trust!
From out the split in rocky cliff · Aziz led genie fair- Her lamp he sat upon the sand · giving thanks to Allah in prayer;
For where before he’d been alone · his thoughts his own to ponder- He saw in her a friend · that he need no longer wander;
And to herself did Afrit mull · that with wish at finger tips- Aziz preferred with her to chat · absorbing each word from her lips;
She’d n’er known a heart so pure · nor one so full of joy- That for all its frightful anguish · to reside in so sweet a boy;
Pure pity broke poor Afrit’s heart · and love began to grow- That for all the evil suffered · he had only love to sow;
Days sped by · then long months passed- Since Earth had shook · and she daily asked;
Know ye, fair Aziz · what thine heart doth longeth for? Would ye be rich, my fair Aziz, or wise, or valiant in war?
One might surely think as much · the lad laughed easily- But I wish – nay, I want · to only be with thee!
Thus e’er quoth Aziz · when she sought from him an answer- His virtue plain to see · The truth of it entranced her;
O the secrets Afrit shared · that only genii might reveal- An open book of wonder · from whom nothing is concealed;
But one awed him most · causing youthful heart to ache- Her own most heartfelt wish · a wish she could not make;
I would that I, Aziz · could be as one like thee- A living, breathing lass · alive and wild and free;
Then hand in hand we’d roam · across these desert sands- Exploring far-flung vistas · in wondrous, distant lands!
We’d dance ‘neath palms, eat sweet figs · ‘n drink the tartest wine- And I would be yours, Aziz · and thou wouldst be mine!
Before the lad could answer · a wish he finally knew- Rogue bandits ‘pon them broke · thieves from Kuzaktu!
What be this? the dozen yelled · as in the cave they burst- A genie and a wish! they cried · and ours, by Allah, they cursed;
They beat the lad ‘n tied him tight · then approached the genie fair- Lest thou thinks to harm Aziz · thou had best beware;
The wish I have tis his alone · and only his to make- Tis not a thing I may thee give · nor tis yours to take;
Thou best had find a way, they cried · or yon lad we’ll surely slay- Our bellies ‘r all a grumble · we’ve not one cent to pay our way;
Before the djinn might make reply · the lad did up and speak- I wish thou were a girl! he cried · his voice falling pale and weak;
Then did stone in brightness glow · ‘n sand did flash and glimmer- As genie took on human form · magic slowly glowing dimmer;
Before them all a beauty stood · all nude in afterglow- Jade green eyes and ivory skin · and red lips shaped like a bow;
As they in awestruck wonder stood · she snatched one’s curvy knife- And leaping to love'd one’s side she cried, Aziz – fight for your life!
She cut hemp rope and into hand she pressed the wicked blade- Then threw herself at cutthroats · with body by magic made;
In shocked surprise they paused · so she wrestled from one his sword- And fought those burly ruffians · as side-by-side they faced the horde;
Not all tales are those of fairy · not all live happily after- Tis not giv’n all star-struck lovers to live lives of joy ‘n laughter;
They saw the wish was lost · and wishing whate’r might be gained- One drew back a knife-filled hand · wishing Aziz to be slain;
He threw his blade but n’er guessed · in its path the lass might leap- Till blade was buried betwixt her breasts · ‘n down she fell in a heap
His heart was filled with loss · Aziz grasped her scimitar- Then fought possessed · as just might one borne ‘neath an ill-fate star;
With near all slain · the others fled · as to the sand lad fell- Where gently he caressed the hair of his beloved, mortal belle;
His love for her, so pure, so bright · falling tears, pure love, pure light- She smiled once upon the lad · ‘ere spirit was called into the night;
A life of woe Aziz had led, a life of pain-filled strife- But this was more than heart could bear, so to heart he placed a knife;
And deeply inward did he plunge · piercing stab of pain and cold- Reminding lad of all the pain and cold he’d known of old;
His body fell across the lass · then to spirit’s feet he lept- Saw then the world where spirits laughed and danced and sang and crept;
Smiling there his Afrit stood · her hand toward his did reach- And in his joy he mutely clasped · finding no words for speech;
The cave was then by magic sealed · as o’er the sands they flew- And bid the Persian desert folk · their cruelties adieu;
They joined the stars · and to this day · look down from way on high- While mothers sing · their babes to sleep · this Persian lullaby;
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Post by themirrorthief on Dec 22, 2016 1:47:17 GMT -5
~~~ Sunken Cheeks ~~~ The Sorceress got bored with male grunts and hairy parts and with their bollock scratchings and beer scented farts. So she sought to refresh a fond fling from her teens A secret affair that still slithered into her dreams. Way back in her youth in high Towers of Atlantis to avoid the High Priest's lust: like a groping mantis. She hid with her perky pretty cousin Imelda in the dark cobwebbed dungeon she kissed and held her. --[ verse 3 ] After Mad Priest killed Imelda in his evil lust Furious Bux poisoned him fast and then turned him to dust. Now, Bux truly thought she had the mightiest power to restore her lover like a fresh blooming flower. Imelda's tomb was off the Barachan Isles coast Could Bux raise the mummy of an ancient lost ghost? Three ships and Magic were combined to recover the sunken remains of her aeons lost lover. The Coffin was raised onto grim mountain top, high The dark Ritual brought storm clouds and thundering sky. Lightning lanced into sacred phallic arcane stones Stirring in coffin were flesh-dust and fragile bones... ~~~~~ [ the tale continues in prose ] ... Soon, Imelda was raised perfectly from ages of death by the most powerful secret sorcery. The precise lightning strikes had stopped, and purple smoke curled serpently upwards from all the redly glowing standing stones. Her smiling fresh young naked beauty shone in the moonlight, but her eyes were black and looked soulless. Imelda did not speak. She hugged and gently kissed Bux politely in silence. Bux smiled wide but then fainted. She was exhausted and very drained from the long powerful magic ritual. Then lively lovely Imelda cheerfully skipped off with 2 big strong workmen who Bux had employed. Later...apparently... Imelda had fallen to pieces... while the 2 men were loving her in bed. Her gorgeous athletic body collapsed into a jelly-like mush. Then her flesh began decomposing very fast. The 2 big men fled horrified and gibbering... One of them ran screaming off the 200 feet high cliff. A huge tentacled open maw waited for him below. It was the other man who later related the gruesome facts to Bux. He had been found curled up behind the sacred altar in a small Temple of Mitra. He had been sweating and shaking and whimpering in terror. Bux used her magic to help him recover, and later employed him as a gardener in the big castle of a friend. So the shaken Sorceress learned a very tough hard lesson: that raising the dead may not last very long? ~~~~~ [ by Buxom Sorceress c.2016 ] --- [[po68]] [ more weird dark horror from my twisted bleeding quill ] very very nice...yow
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Post by buxom9sorceress on Dec 23, 2016 22:32:55 GMT -5
~~~ Sunken Cheeks ~~~ The Sorceress got bored with male grunts and hairy parts and with their bollock scratchings and beer scented farts. So she sought to refresh a fond fling from her teens A secret affair that still slithered into her dreams. Way back in her youth in high Towers of Atlantis to avoid the High Priest's lust: like a groping mantis. She hid with her perky pretty cousin Imelda in the dark cobwebbed dungeon she kissed and held her. --[ verse 3 ] After Mad Priest killed Imelda in his evil lust Furious Bux poisoned him fast and then turned him to dust. Now, Bux truly thought she had the mightiest power to restore her lover like a fresh blooming flower. Imelda's tomb was off the Barachan Isles coast Could Bux raise the mummy of an ancient lost ghost? Three ships and Magic were combined to recover the sunken remains of her aeons lost lover. The Coffin was raised onto grim mountain top, high The dark Ritual brought storm clouds and thundering sky. Lightning lanced into sacred phallic arcane stones Stirring in coffin were flesh-dust and fragile bones... ~~~~~ [ the tale continues in prose ] ... Soon, Imelda was raised perfectly from ages of death by the most powerful secret sorcery. The precise lightning strikes had stopped, and purple smoke curled serpently upwards from all the redly glowing standing stones. Her smiling fresh young naked beauty shone in the moonlight, but her eyes were black and looked soulless. Imelda did not speak. She hugged and gently kissed Bux politely in silence. Bux smiled wide but then fainted. She was exhausted and very drained from the long powerful magic ritual. Then lively lovely Imelda cheerfully skipped off with 2 big strong workmen who Bux had employed. Later...apparently... Imelda had fallen to pieces... while the 2 men were loving her in bed. Her gorgeous athletic body collapsed into a jelly-like mush. Then her flesh began decomposing very fast. The 2 big men fled horrified and gibbering... One of them ran screaming off the 200 feet high cliff. A huge tentacled open maw waited for him below. It was the other man who later related the gruesome facts to Bux. He had been found curled up behind the sacred altar in a small Temple of Mitra. He had been sweating and shaking and whimpering in terror. Bux used her magic to help him recover, and later employed him as a gardener in the big castle of a friend. So the shaken Sorceress learned a very tough hard lesson: that raising the dead may not last very long? ~~~~~ [ by Buxom Sorceress c.2016 ] --- [[po68]] [ more weird dark horror from my twisted bleeding quill ] very very nice...yow Dear Mirror-t, thanks very much. I look forward to a new poem from your weird quill ?
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Post by buxom9sorceress on Dec 23, 2016 22:45:07 GMT -5
Hi Chris >>>> you could post your new fun tale in our FAN AREA forum... [ just create a new thread /topic for it ] swordsofreh.proboards.com/board/4/general-discussion-fan-area[ i like a lot of CAS, too ] ==== i hope Dresden & co might inspire your magical quill? And some of the fan tales by Mirror-thief [and other member writers] may inspire you? Thanks, and Best wishes. ==== > Watch out for the beautiful 'Imelda'... coming to a rhyme here soon... [ i'm just digging her up ] Sorceress, Reading Butcher's Dresden has indeed been inspiring to write stories, but hanging in this thread with you guys has inspired me to write poetry again. The last good poem I wrote, Zalasoros, was done earlier this year. Were it not for this thread I probably would not have written the new material you guys have encouraged me to write. So - thanks! I'm working on a new Arabian poem now. That stuff has always caught my fancy. Loved Imelda by the way - that'd make a great short story Thanks very much. Glad you enjoyed Imelda's 'Sunken Cheeks'. - Great that we poets have re-invigorated your poetic creativity. Most poets need to be encouraged and inspired by more fan feedback and other like-minded poets.
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Post by buxom9sorceress on Dec 23, 2016 22:50:08 GMT -5
The Wish of Aziz
Some folk are born · ‘neath a dim, dark star- Their fortunes not fated · to be as others’ are;
A load just such · weighed down poor Aziz- As in city dross · he knelt upon his knees;
Orphaned at birth · and bowed beneath his yoke- Expelled from Kuzaktu · by the stingy city folk;
Some sixteen years · he bore their hateful scourge- His bright, happy spirit · crushed and submerged;
‘Twas a dim lit cave · thru’ a split he found in stone- And resided in the desert · in his stony home, alone;
Th’ nights he found quite chill · as he curled ‘pon the sands- In cold abode of stone · out in those desert lands;
The city lay afar · as some glinting, desert gem- Its walls and minarets · a Persian diadem;
Til earthquake rumbles shook · aging bedrock stone- Caused the sands to sink · the continent to groan;
The city paid in blood · for injustices they’d served- Buildings fell a-crumble · slaying guiltless with deserved;
In his cave Aziz fared well · but later found a hole- To secret, unknown chamber · t’ fright his youthful soul;
Finding heart · he inward crept · determined to explore- And found an oil lamp · lying ‘pon the stony floor;
At his touch · a lass sprang forth · or torso as it may- Below her waist a filmy mist · and vapor drift’ his way;
Her face was cross · her gaze intent · her eyes spat desert fire- And poor Aziz · dropped the lamp · and quailed beneath her ire;
Ye wish to wish a wish, I’d wage · the jinni did declare- Then wish it and be done, quoth she · with a toss of flaming hair;
From fearful fears to full amaze · Aziz did then behold- A beauty more refined · than the best and purest gold;
There’s much to want · and much to wish · I know not what to say- I think I must then ponder this · and wish another day;
Wullah, quoth the genie fair, Well, then · if thou must- Perhaps come morn · thou mightest wish · an’ be done with this, I trust!
From out the split in rocky cliff · Aziz led genie fair- Her lamp he sat upon the sand · giving thanks to Allah in prayer;
For where before he’d been alone · his thoughts his own to ponder- He saw in her a friend · that he need no longer wander;
And to herself did Afrit mull · that with wish at finger tips- Aziz preferred with her to chat · absorbing each word from her lips;
She’d n’er known a heart so pure · nor one so full of joy- That for all its frightful anguish · to reside in so sweet a boy;
Pure pity broke poor Afrit’s heart · and love began to grow- That for all the evil suffered · he had only love to sow;
Days sped by · then long months passed- Since Earth had shook · and she daily asked;
Know ye, fair Aziz · what thine heart doth longeth for? Would ye be rich, my fair Aziz, or wise, or valiant in war?
One might surely think as much · the lad laughed easily- But I wish – nay, I want · to only be with thee!
Thus e’er quoth Aziz · when she sought from him an answer- His virtue plain to see · The truth of it entranced her;
O the secrets Afrit shared · that only genii might reveal- An open book of wonder · from whom nothing is concealed;
But one awed him most · causing youthful heart to ache- Her own most heartfelt wish · a wish she could not make;
I would that I, Aziz · could be as one like thee- A living, breathing lass · alive and wild and free;
Then hand in hand we’d roam · across these desert sands- Exploring far-flung vistas · in wondrous, distant lands!
We’d dance ‘neath palms, eat sweet figs · ‘n drink the tartest wine- And I would be yours, Aziz · and thou wouldst be mine!
Before the lad could answer · a wish he finally knew- Rogue bandits ‘pon them broke · thieves from Kuzaktu!
What be this? the dozen yelled · as in the cave they burst- A genie and a wish! they cried · and ours, by Allah, they cursed;
They beat the lad ‘n tied him tight · then approached the genie fair- Lest thou thinks to harm Aziz · thou had best beware;
The wish I have tis his alone · and only his to make- Tis not a thing I may thee give · nor tis yours to take;
Thou best had find a way, they cried · or yon lad we’ll surely slay- Our bellies ‘r all a grumble · we’ve not one cent to pay our way;
Before the djinn might make reply · the lad did up and speak- I wish thou were a girl! he cried · his voice falling pale and weak;
Then did stone in brightness glow · ‘n sand did flash and glimmer- As genie took on human form · magic slowly glowing dimmer;
Before them all a beauty stood · all nude in afterglow- Jade green eyes and ivory skin · and red lips shaped like a bow;
As they in awestruck wonder stood · she snatched one’s curvy knife- And leaping to love'd one’s side she cried, Aziz – fight for your life!
She cut hemp rope and into hand she pressed the wicked blade- Then threw herself at cutthroats · with body by magic made;
In shocked surprise they paused · so she wrestled from one his sword- And fought those burly ruffians · as side-by-side they faced the horde;
Not all tales are those of fairy · not all live happily after- Tis not giv’n all star-struck lovers to live lives of joy ‘n laughter;
They saw the wish was lost · and wishing whate’r might be gained- One drew back a knife-filled hand · wishing Aziz to be slain;
He threw his blade but n’er guessed · in its path the lass might leap- Till blade was buried betwixt her breasts · ‘n down she fell in a heap
His heart was filled with loss · Aziz grasped her scimitar- Then fought possessed · as just might one borne ‘neath an ill-fate star;
With near all slain · the others fled · as to the sand lad fell- Where gently he caressed the hair of his beloved, mortal belle;
His love for her, so pure, so bright · falling tears, pure love, pure light- She smiled once upon the lad · ‘ere spirit was called into the night;
A life of woe Aziz had led, a life of pain-filled strife- But this was more than heart could bear, so to heart he placed a knife;
And deeply inward did he plunge · piercing stab of pain and cold- Reminding lad of all the pain and cold he’d known of old;
His body fell across the lass · then to spirit’s feet he lept- Saw then the world where spirits laughed and danced and sang and crept;
Smiling there his Afrit stood · her hand toward his did reach- And in his joy he mutely clasped · finding no words for speech;
The cave was then by magic sealed · as o’er the sands they flew- And bid the Persian desert folk · their cruelties adieu;
They joined the stars · and to this day · look down from way on high- While mothers sing · their babes to sleep · this Persian lullaby; A very good grim romantic fantasy poem tale. Many thanks for sharing your hard work. "Not all tales are those of fairy · not all live happily after- Tis not giv’n all star-struck lovers to live lives of joy ‘n laughter;" ==== Your enthusiasm and high quality poetry are delighting me, and inspiring me to write more new rhymes for our Pit of Set.
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Post by Von K on Dec 25, 2016 10:11:28 GMT -5
Some great storytelling in verse form with the Wish of Aziz Chris! Just the sort one might find as a lost tale from the Arabian Nights. # Bux, thanks for your latest! You ought to add Imelda to your ever expanding collection of stories for the vast tome that some call 'Tales From the Ebone Tower.'
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Post by ChrisLAdams on Dec 25, 2016 15:18:35 GMT -5
Some great storytelling in verse form with the Wish of Aziz Chris! Just the sort one might find as a lost tale from the Arabian Nights. # Bux, thanks for your latest! You ought to add Imelda to your ever expanding collection of stories for the vast tome that some call 'Tales From the Ebone Tower.' Von, thanks! As you can probably tell I really enjoy telling stories in verse. And taking a break from the stories I'm currently working on to write poetry has offered me a detour I was very much needing. I'd been stuck for weeks on a particular point in a story as I worked through possible scenarios. After writing Aziz I was able to steam roll and produce some more on the novel, which was very exciting! Merry Christmas everyone, Best, Chris.
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