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|                            There Ain't No Justice                           |
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|                                     #71                                     |
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                            Poetry Interlude 06
                      - by the AC908 Poetry Society -

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                            Hiding in the Corner
                             -by Natalie Pinero
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                   I'm sitting here in the corner hiding,
                 Hiding from the future because it's scary,
                        I can't wait for it to come,
                       But I don't want it to get me.
               Who knows what it might have in store for me?
                    I know it's out there waiting for me
                               in the shadows
                  I think it wants my youth and optimism,
              Only to replace it with heartache and wrinkles.
                   I know the future is inevitable and it
                     will bring great sweeping changes.
                    But I'm not ready yet, and I'd like
                    to stay in the present for a while.
                    So I'm sitting here, in the corner,
                                  Hiding.

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                                    Epic
                               -by Ironhorse
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                              Here is a tale,
                             of my deadly life,
                            of horrific nature,
                            and terminal strife.

                              Bid by the king
                           to search a new land,
                             I joined some men,
                            an adventuring band.

                           We ventured to coasts,
                             of bays of green,
                             battling enemies,
                          and creatures we'd seen.

                        "Do not harm the Beholder!"
                        One brave sole had screamed.
                      Plucked out the creature's eye,
                           with a sword I reamed.

                          Then the land grew dark,
                             death grew 'round.
                         The cause was my actions,
                       and the results will astound.

                            I set off the land,
                             tried to run away,
                    yet a terrible storm we encountered,
                          that dreadful dooms day.

                             We lost a few men,
                           we lost many to most,
                          soon I sailed on alone,
                               a lonely host.

                           A vision came to bear,
                         on the rocks to the port,
                           a vision so beautiful,
                         I stopped the boat short.

                         Of flaxen hair at the top,
                        to her mid-section just so,
                          no clothes, just scales,
                         from her waist to her toe.

                          Blood ran from her face,
                         and stained all the rocks.
                            Her once flaxen hair
                        bled red through the locks.

                          The boat I had anchored,
                         despite the violent storm,
                             I fled to her aid,
                           that late summer morn.

                               I cradled her
                         as her life slipped away,
                         then her mouth fell open,
                          as if something to say.

                           "The Darkgate is open,
                             the evil is loose,
                           only you can save us,
                              oh mighty Zeus."

                           The words I had heard
                           came not from her jaw,
                            but from all around,
                             yet no one I saw.

                            "Who bids me a god?"
                    I asked. "You're sorrowfully wrong,
                           'tis back in my home,
                            where I do belong."

                           "You opened the gate,
                             you where the one,
                            if you now retreat,
                           the darkness has won."

                             "But I am no god,"
                               I had to say.
                           "Couldn't you stop it
                              some other way?"

                           The voice was no more.
                          Did my question offend?
                         In my lone mind I thought
                             this was the end.

                             A seaman I'm not,
                            by trade or by gene,
                             my crew hired on,
                        for the riches they'd seen.

                          This quest was not mine,
                              Nor did I want,
                          as I looked to the ship,
                         the sails then grew taut.

                           The boat 'gan to move,
                            the anchor gave way,
                            yet a moment I wait,
                         the dead mermaid had say:

                            "Trust in yourself,
                            trust in your goal,
                          to your pilotless craft,
                             I offer my soul."

                          And her body fell flat,
                             as an empty sack,
                           I jumped to the boat,
                           I dared not look back.

                                    ---

                            The ship sailed on,
                           of direction it's own,
                             in minutes I knew
                         I was not bound for home.

                           As the sun fell down,
                            and darkness set in,
                               I saw another,
                            a ship in the wind.

                            No water it's base,
                            nothing to compare,
                       'twas a beautiful golden ship,
                              floating on air.

                          It rode through the sky,
                           as if some great bird,
                            'twas many a moment
                       before it's passenger I heard.

                             "Are you the rider
                          of the seawoman's ship?"
                           He knew of my answer.
                            He knew of my trip.

                            "I too was selected
                          by the voice of the sky;
                             an odd trade-off,
                             my ship can fly."

                             "Indeed, I agree,
                           your flight I can see,
                            my ship is sentient
                          of the ways of the sea."

                           "Our forces will join,
                           we'll battle together,
                            though not just yet,
                             we wait another."

                      "How, I ask, did you know of me?
           And how, is my question, did your boat leave the sea?"

                             "Floating a river
                              an eagle saw I,
                              Went to his aid,
                          and heard from the sky."

                              "And so the bird
                     is now one with your ship, I see,
                            just as the seawoman
                              is one with me."

                         "You are quick, and wise,
                        just as the voice had said -
                            'a leader of people,
                          on a ship of the dead.'"

                                    ---

                          Before I could question
                             more of the voice,
                           our parlay was broken
                          with a thunderous noise.

                          From the water had risen
                              a ship of black,
                            both I and the eagle
                             were taken aback.

                          "The last of our party,
                            as you may so wish,
                             the warrior woman,
                         on the boat of the fish."

                           "You are our leader?"
                            The new woman asked,
                         a finely built compliment
                         to her sex and her class.

                            "The command I take,
                          though with some dismay,
                              hurry, together,
                           let's get under way."

                            So onward we sailed,
                           an odd stack of three,
                           one above, one below,
                           one on top of the sea.

                          Our destination unknown,
                  despite all the information that passed,
                           we knew of each other,
                            we knew of our cast.

                               The flier was,
                                 by nature,
                                 a cleric,
                             a man of religion,
                       from the land of the Wherewik.

                          His skills were defined,
                           in healing and grace.
                           Though, for protection
                             he carried a mace.

                           The swimmer a fighter,
                           as the flier implied,
                            a fierce combatant,
                        with two swords at her side.

                             And I was a lowly
                             man of the magic.
                              Often my spells
                           were less then tragic.

                                    ---

                Hours later the flier was the first to call,
                               being on top,
                         he was the first that saw,

                             Ahead was a hole,
                          a sheer pit in the sea,
                          I called forth to stop,
                         and we stopped, all three.

                           "It is the Darkgate,"
                            the flier had cried
                              as the two boats
                           came to be by my side.

                            "This is the battle,
                         and it's right to the end,
                            life as we know it,
                           on us three depends."

                              Forward we went,
                              on into mystery,
                             a battle for good,
                           a battle for history.

                              Inside the gate,
                          no light could be seen,
                          except for the cleric's
                            radiant holy gleam.

                             Outside the light
                           the evil had cowered,
                            fearing the cleric's
                             newly found power.

                           The warrior got testy,
                           and ran to the field,
                         a demon devoured her leg,
                         and fast stole her shield.

                           Bravely she fought on,
                         as we tried to reach her,
                             blood running down
                             her every feature.

                            With a mighty swing
                       she took two demons surprise,
                           beheaded in one blow,
                            before our own eyes.

                       The flier screamed in terror,
                               I in disgust,
                as the remaining demons devoured the warrior
                           in blood-thirsty lust.

                          Before we could control
                          the emotions we'd shown,
                 ahead in the gate roared a horrific groan.


                           The cleric fell down,
                             his robe all red,
                           if not for his faith,
                          he would had been dead.

                             His organ of life
                            had up and exploded,
                          tore through his chest,
                          his clothes had eroded.

                          The evil was too great,
                          for the cleric to stand,
                           as death came his way,
                           he held out his hand.

                      He offered to me a golden charm,
                   expected to save him from evil's harm.

                            I took it in honor,
                           of a dying man's will,
                          and I felt in my heart,
                       I would be the next evil kill.

                           The medallion I took,
                            and mounted it then,
                            I fastened it here,
                          to my staff at the end.

                           And as I had finished,
                             the evil arrived,
                           so grotesque a sight,
                             my eyes had cried.

                             Yet I stood fast,
                         awaiting time to command,
                         a demon rose from the side
                        and tore 'way my right hand.

                        In the seconds before death,
                          I held my staff up high
                      and called out the command words
                           as I prepared to die.

                       The great evil took no notice
                          and swallowed me whole,
                         I fell into it's stomach,
                             as black as coal.

                      As I fell in I was burned alive,
                    stomach acid eating all my outside,
                    and when I was finally ready to die,
                   I laid my head down and shut mine eye.

                                Next I knew,
                        I was awake in my homeland,
                        though everything grew small
                            as I began to stand.


                           I caught my reflection
                          in the pool by my ho'e,
                            I had taken the body
                             of my hideous foe.

                              And being alive,
                           to serve an evil way,
                           caused me much panic,
                            had nothing to say,

                           And so my last action,
                         after relating this rhyme,
                             is to end my life,
                            self-judge my crime.

                         So the world may live on,
                            with this evil gone,
                               and as I die,
                        I hear the seawoman's song.

                           "Blessed are you now,
                         as you took your own life,
                         perchance here in Heaven,
                            may I be your wife?"

   /////////////////////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\
          These last few poems are all the work of Lupus Yonderboy
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                         i'm falling into the music
                         it's tough to get back out
                         that's a nice shade of red
                         i'm lost inside your mind
                           you look so good to me
                               so good to me

                        i think i understand it now
                              why we do things
                                crazy things
                           it makes us feel good
                           you look so good to me
                               so good to me

                         that's a nice part of you
                  the part that enjoys what you really are
                           the part that accepts
                            the part that i love
                           you look so good to me
                               so good to me

                                    ---

                              i don't mind it
                                just looking
                                   at her
                                 every day
                             it gets me through
                                just looking
                       but please don't take her away

                                    ---

                    it is possible for a most ugly flask
                     to contain the sweetest of nectars
                     and the most beautiful of flowers
                          may even repell the bee
            but is it not true that she of such beautiful flesh
                        have an equaly as sweet mind

                                    ---

                           you may feel the heat
                         of that fire without flame
                          you want so much to meet
                         and you know not her name

                                    ---

                          the stuff that is in me
                     what is at the core of my me-ness
                        cannot be described in words
                      or i have yet to find the means
                    can only be expressed in it's truest
                                  richest
                              most 'real' form
        it is that very same stuff that wanders through infant minds
         before words were introduced to further complicate things
                                   short
                                   quick
                         thought spurts in patterns
                             patterns of light
                                 and sound
                                 and energy
                       if only i could express myself
                                   fully
                               and completely
                              i'll find a way

                                    ---

                        let me experience your mind
                           to be you for a moment
                           to know your realness
                                 to be one
                            just for an instant
                   i want to know what really drives you
                  i want to know what really turns you on
                         i want to crawl inside you
                    roam within the boundlessness of you
                                  to learn
                               more than that
                             i want to share me

                                    ---

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