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Post by buxom9sorceress on Feb 26, 2019 5:45:06 GMT -5
~~~ BEYOND EASTERN ISLAND ~~~
Far beyond 'Eastern Island', past the coast of Khitai, Lost storm-blown Pirates: some land they did spy. It soon loomed upon them like a vast misty ghost, they seemed drawn to the huge twisted forbidding coast.
Into the slimey City of weird gods, 20 had dared, over emerald treasures their insane greedy eyes had flared. While fighting the mad crew her breasts had been bared, now alone, her mind torn, she was trembling and scared.
In the Hall of weird geometry of titanic proportions were carved many demonic-mutated abortions. Their slithering shapes seemed to ripple and writhe, their alien eyes followed her buxom body so lithe.
In fear she struck at the disturbing wall of stone: she felt her sword wobble and the metal seemed to moan. The alien wall then pulled her sword blade within and the face carved above it wore a smug evil grin.
As she fled down the hall, with some terror she wept. Big Tongues that sprang up from the floor, she avoided or leapt. But one licked her thigh and burned with arousing fire: while inside she felt a forbidden wicked desire.
Resisting the urge, she ran out under the huge Entrance-Rune and stood naked and shaking under a blood-red crescent-moon. From the top of the cliff she saw her freedom below: the Galley of her captain, who was aiming a bow.
She leapt down into the rigging, but the sail did slowly tear... softly bouncing her ass on the deck was a pain she could bear. Then they all screamed in TERROR, from their eyes blood did weep, the galley was swallowed by a vast tentacled-mouth from the deep! No humans escape from the eternal guardian Monsters who keep the secrets of 'The Deep Olde Ones' who still dream in their sleep. ~~~~~ [ by Buxom Sorceress --- 2007-2019 ]----[pc29] inspired by Lovecraft, Howard, pirate films, and by my own depraved secret worship of the Cthulhu Mythos. ]
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Post by ChrisLAdams on Feb 26, 2019 11:26:31 GMT -5
~~~ BEYOND EASTERN ISLAND ~~~ ...
Then they all screamed in TERROR, from their eyes blood did weep, the galley was swallowed by a vast tentacled-mouth from the deep! No humans escape from the eternal guardian Monsters who keep the secrets of 'The Deep Olde Ones' who still dream in their sleep... ~~~~~ [ by Buxom Sorceress --- 2007-2019 ]----[pc29] inspired by Lovecraft, Howard, pirate films, and by my own depraved secret worship of the Cthulhu Mythos. ] Good yarn, there, Sorceress. It's difficult to sacrifice our 'characters' sometimes, but it tends to create a strong, graphic atmosphere for our stories.
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Post by buxom9sorceress on Mar 2, 2019 15:17:03 GMT -5
~~~ BEYOND EASTERN ISLAND ~~~ ...Then they all screamed in TERROR, from their eyes blood did weep.... Good yarn, there, Sorceress. It's difficult to sacrifice our 'characters' sometimes, but it tends to create a strong, graphic atmosphere for our stories. Thanks very much, Chris. Glad you enjoyed my twisted tale of doom. i enjoy writing cthulhu mythos tales because i can put the characters through all kinds of hells, then give em a glimpse of hope... and then kill em in a spectacular huge monster way. too much 'heroic fantasy' [ where main chr has to triumph ] can get very boring, to write? Cthulhu is therapeutic for your bloody congealed quill.
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Post by buxom9sorceress on Mar 8, 2019 13:11:14 GMT -5
~~~ Eyes of a fanatic ~~~
The Eyes of a fanatic gleamed in the moonlight. A haunting dark shadow stalked at midnight. His eyes burned into the shape of his prey Could he stop the evil monster this day?
It limped along the wharf front old sniffing for flesh, desire so cold. A Sailor drunk, molested his 'honey' She let him kiss, desiring his money?
A snarl, a crunch, a triumphant tune his dripping head held up to the moon. She smiled through gurgling fangs of blood His pulsing heart did taste so good.
The Hunter rushed in with a righteous curse he had fought and slain such demons worse. His sword and dagger flicked like tongues piercing her neck, and face, and lungs.
She screamed with bellowed devil's song grasping at crimson sword so long then crumpling down to a stinking pile. He loomed stern above, then sneered a smile.
He burned the 'corpse', blue flames hellish grim then swaggered off humming a fighting hymn. But the 'pile' rose up with a ghoulish growl and jumped into the sea, with a Lupine howl.
He tilted his wide hat, shook his head, some fiendish things would not stay dead. Striding through dark days, the demon's bane is the tough warrior of god, Solomon Kane. ~~~~ [ by Buxom Sorceress --- 2013-19 ]----[pm42]
[ inspired by REH, and the poems of Vonkalmbach, and Mirrorthief ]
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Post by ChrisLAdams on Mar 8, 2019 13:38:34 GMT -5
~~~ Eyes of a fanatic ~~~
The Eyes of a fanatic gleamed in the moonlight. A haunting dark shadow stalked at midnight. His eyes burned into the shape of his prey Could he stop the evil monster this day?... ~~~~ [ by Buxom Sorceress --- 2013-19 ]----[pm42]
[ inspired by REH, and the poems of Vonkalmbach, and Mirrorthief ] Hell yeah! Only a stanza or so in, I thought -- man, this could be a good homage to Old Solomon! I'm sure Kane will find it and kill it even deader again next time!
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Post by ChrisLAdams on Mar 8, 2019 13:41:20 GMT -5
The Old Man
It's weird to think, that I'd now rather sit at home, than to wander cross the world I once loved to roam;
My mind is as restless as once my feet were, those comet-like days of my youth begin to blur;
I'm filled with passion like a violent, boiling pot, I am fearless--yet afraid; there is nothing that I'm not;
People call me clever, but brilliant I know I'm not, for I know the truth when I find myself caught;
Yes, I can do this, and yes, I can do that; Yet, I always come up short—I seem always to fall flat;
Many think me funny, but I know that I'm quite grim; Else, why does my mind drift beyond the cosmos' rim?
I know I'm a wreck, and that nothing can be done; This isn't a battle, nor a war, that can be won;
I'm a complex man, filled with joy and filled with wrath, and I've wandered far since my feet picked out this path;
Yea, I'm closer than ever to Death's dark and yawning gate, if I'll go kicking and screaming, is only known by Fate...
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Post by Von K on Mar 10, 2019 5:10:24 GMT -5
~~~ Eyes of a fanatic ~~~
The Eyes of a fanatic gleamed in the moonlight. A haunting dark shadow stalked at midnight. His eyes burned into the shape of his prey Could he stop the evil monster this day? ... ~~~~ [ by Buxom Sorceress --- 2013-19 ]----[pm42]
[ inspired by REH, and the poems of Vonkalmbach, and Mirrorthief ] I remember this one from the old forum Bux, back when we had our Solomon Kane themed run.
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Post by Von K on Mar 10, 2019 5:31:32 GMT -5
The Old Man
It's weird to think, that I'd now rather sit at home, than to wander cross the world I once loved to roam;
With a book collection like yours Chris, I'd say you'll be all right. Burroughs and Merritt et al have got you covered.
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Post by ChrisLAdams on Mar 10, 2019 15:29:06 GMT -5
The Old Man
It's weird to think, that I'd now rather sit at home, than to wander cross the world I once loved to roam;
With a book collection like yours Chris, I'd say you'll be all right. Burroughs and Merritt et al have got you covered. That'll be me someday, but not yet! I do have some books I am saving for retirement.
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Post by buxom9sorceress on Mar 10, 2019 21:30:49 GMT -5
The Old Man
It's weird to think, that I'd now rather sit at home, than to wander cross the world I once loved to roam...
...Yea, I'm closer than ever to Death's dark and yawning gate, if I'll go kicking and screaming, is only known by Fate... Probably your grimmest dark poem because it is so believable? Most of us dont like to consider very old age. It is so gloomy and frightening? Thanks.
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Post by buxom9sorceress on Mar 10, 2019 21:32:22 GMT -5
~~~ Eyes of a fanatic ~~~
The Eyes of a fanatic gleamed in the moonlight. A haunting dark shadow stalked at midnight. His eyes burned into the shape of his prey Could he stop the evil monster this day?... ~~~~ [ by Buxom Sorceress --- 2013-19 ]----[pm42]
[ inspired by REH, and the poems of Vonkalmbach, and Mirrorthief ] Hell yeah! Only a stanza or so in, I thought -- man, this could be a good homage to Old Solomon! I'm sure Kane will find it and kill it even deader again next time! Thanks very much. I wanted to pen a vivid rip roaring action horror which summed up grim Kane.
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Post by buxom9sorceress on Mar 10, 2019 21:34:06 GMT -5
~~~ Eyes of a fanatic ~~~
The Eyes of a fanatic gleamed in the moonlight. A haunting dark shadow stalked at midnight. His eyes burned into the shape of his prey Could he stop the evil monster this day? ... ~~~~ [ by Buxom Sorceress --- 2013-19 ]----[pm42]
[ inspired by REH, and the poems of Vonkalmbach, and Mirrorthief ] I remember this one from the old forum Bux, back when we had our Solomon Kane themed run. Yes, thanks. [ i am slowly looking thru my best older poems and posting them here on Jasons great forum site. the olde site was murdered by uncaring owners who would not even let us make some archives of the best info and creations. ] Now our many new members can enjoy our fan poetry. I hope you find time to post some of your fave older works here, too?
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Post by ChrisLAdams on Mar 11, 2019 11:10:13 GMT -5
Probably your grimmest dark poem because it is so believable? Most of us don't like to consider very old age. It is so gloomy and frightening? Thanks. Yes it is gloomy and frightening. I watched a beloved grandfather perish from Alzheimers. A grandmother. Uncles. Great-aunts. Another grandmother. It's horrid, and no one ever quite gets used to it. I wish to re-post this gloomy poem because I kept getting urges to rewrite it and make it flow easier. So, I followed those promptings. I'm not sure if this is a better version or not. The Old Man
It's weird to think, that I'd rather be at home, than wander 'cross this world I once loved to roam
My mind's as restless as my feet once were, the comet-like days of youth become a blur
Once as ardent as a fiery, boiling pot, today I don’t care, and I fear more oft than not
People call me clever, but brilliant I am not, I got lucky is all, in all the things I wrought
Yes, I do this, and I can certainly do that; Yet, I often come up short, and I'm always falling flat
Many think me mild, but I'm really rather grim; My thoughts lie in darkness beyond the cosmic rim
Life has wrecked my soul, and nothing can be done; I already lost this war, so it can never be won
I'm a complex man, a little joy but mostly wrath, I've come quite a ways since my feet took up this path
I'm closer than ever to Death's dark, yawning gate; Will I smile or will I scream? I won't know 'til it's too late
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Post by Von K on Mar 11, 2019 21:43:32 GMT -5
Hey Chris, I understand the impulse to keep adjusting a poem until it's just right. I spent a year once on and off trying to get a poem right, before I realised that it was not a poem but a lyric, then once the melody appeared, everything else gradually settled into place. Now our many new members can enjoy our fan poetry. I hope you find time to post some of your fave older works here, too? Bux, here's one of the Kane verse that I posted way back then. The Rhyme of the Dark CrusaderOn your solitary dark crusade Through a dozen lands you fight, As you boldly hunt down the men of blood, And the demons of the night. With slouch hat, pistol, sword and staff Who knows now where you roam? And who can aid your weary steps On the path you walk alone? You stride through the night like a solemn flame Your soul an incandescent fane, The shadows fear your whispered name: Solomon Kane, Solomon Kane. End
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Post by ChrisLAdams on Mar 12, 2019 8:12:45 GMT -5
Hey Chris, I understand the impulse to keep adjusting a poem until it's just right. I spent a year once on and off trying to get a poem right, before I realised that it was not a poem but a lyric, then once the melody appeared, everything else gradually settled into place. The Rhyme of the Dark CrusaderOn your solitary dark crusade Through a dozen lands you fight, As you boldly hunt down the men of blood, And the demons of the night.... Von, you're right. Sometimes I'm happy with the poem, and go ahead and post it, then later I revisit it, and start seeing little things jump out at me that I'd of done differently. I should maintain a couple week cooling off period, keep hitting it up every day or two, fine tune it. I'm trying to lean more toward brevity vs my typical epic sagas. I love writing short stories in verse, and sometimes the yarn isn't quickly told. But to 'go lean', you must keep working at it, taking out syllables etc where possible.
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