Look, out there, along the horizon,
Tis mighty Alduin come to pillage,
Fear not for this seeming threat rising,
Alduin isn’t even a dragon, no threat to our village.
His wings and teeth doth make you a liar,
Scales and fire all these things a dragon make,
Wings and teeth yes, merely makes him a flier,
Four limbs and two wings doth a true dragon take.
A true dragon for Shor’s sake man,
It breaths fire and flies, with scales like steel, that’s all I need to call it a dragon,
But it is a wyvern, more like a caveman,
A dragon he is not, get yer head outta the flagon.
But my friend, Webster doth agree,
A wyvern is a dragon with two legs I doth swear it be.
It’ll be just a few more minutes,
I’m sorry for the wait,
I say that to so many tenants,
It fills me with rage and hate.
I want the other department,
To just pick up,
Make it work at their apartment,
So they can shut up the pup.
Tech support woes,
I do declare,
Try not to stare.
I’m not sure what else to say,
So, I’ll just turn around and say yay.
If the poem seems broken and disjointed with no clear direction as to the imagery and language, that’s because it is. It’s taken over a week to write, each time I’ve sat and stared at it for an hour or more without really being able to move forward with it. So, as a final act of desperation, here it is. I’m not sure if it’s going to be worth having thrown the poem together just to have a post, or if I’ll come to find some worth in the poem in time. I dunno. For now I’ll let you decide.
Oh blank page,
How I loathe thee,
Filling me with violent rage,
Knowing I will never be free.
Haunt me you will,
Till my dying breath,
I’ll fill you with swill,
No better than Macbeth.
Alas poor Yorik,
I knew him, Horacio,
Find someone named Hendrik,
I’ll hide him in the palacio.
Shakespeare you cannot beat,
Alas, I’m afraid, I can’t compete.
So, this week has been rather productive, even though I’ve missed quite a few days of poetry. With that you have my apologies. I’ll try to work in a couple extra poems in the week to come, but I make no guarantees.
I have finished the short story, Dobhar-chu is its name. It’s a historical/fantasy short story set halfway in the land of Eire, and halfway in a world I call AllHaven. I need to hear back from my editor (read: wife) before I call the work on it fully complete. Once it’s got her seal of approval, then I’ll wrap it up in a nice little package and send it off on submission.
Anywho, it’s past time this cat crawled into bed. Yawn.