Poetry Time: An Ode to Xanga

I wrote this in October 2009 on my old Xanga blog.

Trying to be different
I become the same
Reaching for infinity
I find nothing but mundane
I look behind at my road
And see naught but the drama and mold

Turning now I look ahead
And my heart flutters with dread
I don’t know what’s before me
But with jaded thoughts I find
My gears are a different kind
Compressed forms of cosmic dust
Unlike yours mine do not rust

I stop and a I take a seat
For infinity I must yet meet
And to get there I must stop and rest
And oh I look upon you all in jest
Fifteen minutes fame you other Xangans crave
Obsessive posting makes you Drama’s slave

I sit back and watch at those who complain
And know that it is they who have become mundane
For being different never really works
When you’re not the only one casting fireworks
So piss and moan all you drama whores
Stuck behind your closed windows and your doors

While I get back up and take a step
Into fresh air and daylight
Because I’ve a life to live and miles to go
And such requires I turn off the screen
But should I crave dribblings of those who speak but will never actually do
I shall return and search thine pages to read through
(But only after it’s been ages)

Poetry Time: The World Passes By

Did you ever notice how the world passes by?

The speed at which it moves?

Stand still, look up, look out.

Stop where you are for a second.

And watch it pass you by.

The world is unforgiving.

The world is cold and cruel.

It does not remember the deeds you’ve done.

It only shows what you’ve left undone.

Did you ever notice how the world passes by?

Break neck speed and frantic paces.

Different men of different races.

Rushing here and running there.

No time to stop.

No time to look.

No time to know this strange alluring bliss.

Did you ever notice how the world passes by?

Poetry Time: Akkadian Blade

Back in college I had to create a world and mythology for a story I wrote in my English 102 class. The following are four poem/prophecies from that project.


Friend and Foe
none will know
for he is hidden in the snow

divided mind and heart they say
only one will know the way
to find him one must light the path
and give to him a lover’s wrath

Balance once achieved
will be peace at last received
but careful of the world so wide
lest you forget what lays inside


Lost to us the Darkest prince
His powers faded and grown silent
but in ages far and wide
his sons across the sky will ride
from heaven will fall the sons
as from heaven fell the father

Cloaked in secrets the serpent dwells
shadow and fire and ice and light
and in the darkness sleeps the might
of ages past and powers lost
inside the serpent a dragon’s power swells


In secret doth he conspire
he who seeks eternal fire
but power he craves
his soul doth cry
in battle he can never die

one will rise and do what’s right
one will challenge kin to fight
the final prince, youngest and wise
will turn his back to the sun’s rise


There stirs in darkness a hidden light
A sacred flame
The Dragons’ Breath

Born of shadow, warrior of light
he who seeks what is just and right
he comes, this eve, to know our lore
He steps upon Akkadia’s Shore

Three tomes has he
and thrice blessed with son
honor in battle, and power of might
the last of chaos turning from the light

Poetry Time: This Dividing Line

There is no going back
There is only what’s ahead
And where you see order
A place of strictly Black and White
I see it all torn asunder
And many shades of gray

I walk along a path
Undefined by feeble terms
Of right and wrong
Of good and evil
No demons nor angels
Only that which rests along the Dividing Line

I drifted through life before
No purpose and no path
But now I see with eyes unclouded
The road ahead is shrouded
In nothingness and shadow

Oblivion calls out hungry
Lusting after the Faithful Blind
Though a sort I detest
Their kind revile me
If asked I will rise up and defend
Because I travel along the Dividing Line

Yet I am no champion
Of the extreamest moral Right
I dabble in the shadows, too
And relish those things of Wrong
I have no sense of order
For chaos defines my Honor

Because I see no division
Along this path I walk
Shadows talk and Lights weep
Melting into many shades of gray

Thrice Goddess Blessed
And Death Defied
I walk along this Dividing Line.