Psimon

The machine ************************ It's gears are rolling, beating rhythm time. Fire jets from ports upon it's back and burns the sky without a reason but to paint a bruise of black the blue upon the air. I can't remember times as bad as this, when all I did near choked me to my death, and each and every step I took could be my last upon this ball of rock, my world. Yet day by day I trudge through darkened mist no purpose yet, no reason of my own. ****** I beat my hand black and blue against the desk trying to get the emphasis right... I hope my broken and bloody hand served me well and I managed to do it ok...

hmmmmmm reply, riposte, a moment lost forgive, forget, a moment let behind, begun, a moment won abate, abet, a moment yet *bashes himself severely about the head, lest he start rhyming yet again* A joke, a jest a daring wager. Welcome guest, or dashing stranger. For what is life without a-making daring-do and much risk taking. Well done, indeed. For some time yet, I've felt the need for challenge... bets. But money's not all there's to risk. A spoon, a bowl a well-made whisk. It need not be a thing of substance, or anything if there's resistance. Just sit and say to each, "Well won" and rest awhile when joust is done. Sorry... too late Seriously though, well done. There's talent in that there mind an' no mistake. You've a writer's pen, oo-aaarrrggghhh! (sorry, too much Blackadder in my upbringing. I get silly when I'm tired and I'm VERY tired right now...) I love it, Sal... we should do this again

Fallen *********************** falls to the cold ground: heart lies amidst the grey stone remains still, a seed

Temptress **************************** Your lips are poison to my mind blood red poison, fate designed. Can't you see, you're not my kind. With you I cannot be entwined. Your vision's running through my head. I must refuse or I'll be dead, amongst the refuse by your bed another fool up paths you've led. I must escape now. Let me out! You just don't know what I'm about. I've wife and family, have no doubt my love for them you cannot rout! You have no care for my emotion just one more ship upon your ocean. I'm just another affectation well placed enough for your attention. So get behind me, satan's daughter! I'll not be lamb that's lead to slaughter. I've wisdom more and know I ought to leave this place and just forget you.

The sea nymph and the sailor ******************************************** Come now, let me hold you, and keep you from the storm. To shelter and enfold you, beneath the waters warm. My lass, she waits ashore. Foul woman, do not tempt me! Your kisses I abhor. I look to home, not thee. Come now, let me hold you, and give to you my love. My comforts to enfold you, beware the world above. My lass, she waits ashore, my bairn upon her knee! Her kisses I adore. I hold to her, not thee. Come now, let me hold you, and shower you with gifts. My pleasure to enfold you, you must consider this. My lass, she waits ashore, she's waiting there for me! I'll tarry here no more. My love's to her, not thee!

In the Spring ****************************** In the spring I often sit and wish that I could be a kite up in the sky and go the way that I chance to blow and then come back down to the ground, go back to the house and tell the story. This was written this morning (self-motivated). The first stanza has been given to the children to start them off, the second is his original work... That's my boy!!! *Psimon is one VERY proud father

Touchdown ****************** Blackness blown apart as countdown reached it's end. Retros fired. An all-consuming flame belched from eyes burned red as hell. Grey bullet did descend through distant heavens without name. Darling, when did we fall? Darling, when was it over? I guess this was the price of falling freely, this twisted metal, this strange sensation, like fire and ice. Both fill my senses keenly. When did we fall? When was it over? This was the price of knowledge, cold, dark void contains me. Did we fall? Was it over? All my senses close me down. We fall... It's over.

Shadows ************************ What shadows lie beneath these hallowed dwarven halls? What dark and stained relief casts forth upon it's walls? Such lamentations drift from deep within the dark, then plunge into the rift in which all things are stark. What souls ne'er to be found, once known to you and me, lie dead upon the ground as far the eye can see. Once from this wondrous place, marched armies forth to war, yet now what greets the face is bones by hundreds, more. Oh, friends both rich and true, all lost and gone beneath. What has become of you, where shall I lay your wreath? For shadows marked your last and shadows hold you still. How could this come to pass, that shadows took The Hill?

Starman ******************** He waits up there amongst the stars and watches us from way past Mars He knows just what we think and do he watches me, he watches you! He's been before, he'll come again though never knows just where or when His orders come from further out Of that one fact I have no doubt. I listen in on radios shortwave and longwave studios Listen for signals that he sends Prepare the earth for it's defence! I tell you, when he comes he'll not come here alone to fulfil plots he's hatched with all his Starman mates They'll come prepared to stay quite late! Wipe us all out with laser guns! And make us run home to our mums! But wait! I hear her calling now. I'd best get home and grab some chow. See you guys all again next week when we'll take on The Dread Lord, Bleek!

Nebulae ******************* Heavens high and light divine I'd hoped to make it home this time I need an axe to break the ice that's trapped me deep in this device Floating free amongst the stars without direction, how bizarre. I thought it was under control till blinking light on my console. All hell broke loose, passing strange, cause hell is hot, like rocket range, and I'm so cold, have lost sensation drifting further from my station. The lights are coloured through my visor spewing forth just like a geyser 'cross my vision. Could this be God's Nebulae to rescue me?

His twin hearts fit to burst, Psimon holds back tears of joy to see those he holds so dear, and those he's yet to really know, receive their well-deserved honours. Words tumble through his mind - Devotion, Perseverence, Dedication - these do not even begin to describe the time and effort which these people have put into their craft. All he can do is stand and applaud, and this he does with all he can muster. ooc: Well done, one and all!!

Pulse ****************************** The night's reflections, shadows all, holds maiden still, mine to enthrall. Her eyes fly wide, her fate between the cold hard rock and force unseen. I do not know her, nor shall I. I've no more pity left to cry, for those that fall under my curse, for the lost souls I savour first. This loneliness, this night takes wing. No exultations do I sing, except to that which gives me power, and causes them to cringe and cower. This lust is base, bereft of laws, and drives me onwards, burning cause. The taste of crimson must I crave to keep me from my hellish grave. So to the task I bend my will, pure, sweet life-blood for to spill. A need, a drive, that moment when I feel the pulse of life again... ******************************* Does anyone else feel thirsty? *shrugs*

All hail the Flounder?? I don't understand.... *Several of Psimon's companions proceed to give him a sound ear-bashing* Ouch! ouch! Ow! Hey, cut that out! OWWW! No pulling those hairs please!! OK, Ok...ok... I get it now. A simple reading error on my part. I apologise, ok? Good grief! *Addresses The Great One* Ozymandias.. The Well-Spring of all that is The Pen... Many, many happy returns on this wonderful day! The world was blessed indeed on the day you arrived and it is well that this day is celebrated in magnificent fashion! May the Sun, Moon and stars declare this day joyous as you take pause to dwell on your birth, and...OW! *turns to Rhylae, who has just planted a five-inch stilletto heel in his foot* What was that for??? "You were beginning to dribble..." her wry smile turns to The Founder. Bowing, she adds her best wishes to those already voiced. "Happy Birthday, Ozymandias" Rhylae turns to Psimon. "See. It's really quite simple. No need for this verbose waffling" *Psimon looks crest-fallen* Happy Birthday from all our 'crew'

Youthful **************** The lines around your eyes will lend themselves to tales of laughter past, and times we shared joy's small details. Your body bears the scars of pain, of giving birth. Our children, shooting stars! Can't tell you what they're worth. Their words can score your brow by turns, both harsh and kind. At times you still allow. You just say "Never mind" Grey streaks now race across your auburn locks, and yet ne'er seems to be at loss to brighten silhouette. The years have been unkind to you and, yes, to me. And still you bring to mind how youthful we can be.

This life ***************** Full of hope and tragedy a slapstick, steady comedy. Just illusion raggedly twisting lives aggrievedly. Once a heartbroke, well spun farce, collective with reason sparse. Then constructed, chaos passed, yet again brought to impasse. From this well emotion springs while to the sides convention clings, holding back from tender things, as 'spirit' soars on soft, white wings Reality then takes a bite, and grips us firm with all it's might. It makes us feel somewhat contrite for overstepping bounds polite We slowly return to our mark Our conscience pricked, bite worse than bark. It gives us pause lest we remark, "We're strolling gaily through the dark" For such a phrase just will not do! It shows emotions shining through, and brings our feelings into view. It's causing hope to bloom anew! But strain and struggle as we may, life drags us down, our hopes dismayed. And so I must leave this soiree to trudge through yet another day.

The Stone **************** Grey Mist, dark clouds, a heartless smile. Black Void, the night, the lonely miles. Shadow Betwixt, between, the nether time. Stone Grey, and black, with shadow lines.

Crossing the Mist ******************** Waters deathly still now, low she hangs her scored brow. The Mist drifts 'cross the mirror, passing said. Thin veil of purest white falls to her palms this night. Her heart besets her temple, strangled dread. Brings naught to her relief, adds rhythm to the grief. The softly stirring movement of the will. Unto the wood's worn flesh, his touch this branch has threshed. The cold hands take a grip, hold faster still. Oh, for sweet diversion from this last excursion. No creaking, splash nor stir is heard about. "And though The Mist flows free, it shan't be so for thee", as to her final torment she's led out.

I'm in... all ten of me Oh, and the RL me too. He's definitely in. It's been said before here, but I'll say it myself - GREAT IDEA! Well done!

Autumn's Turning ************************** Amongst the trees, gold leaves of fall, birds of a wing did gather all The Robin sang of his red breast and how he thought it was the best. The Lark chimed in with his two bits and quoted he admired Tits. The Tits responded much in kind. The Lark's high praises they refined. The Wren declared the Hummingbird the fastest wings of which he'd heard. The Hummingbird *was* swift of wing. Self praise was his linguistic string. The Bellbird's ring was heard to sound, how he thought Doves the sweetest 'round. The Dove replied that, to his eyes, the Nightingale deserved the prize. The Nightingale did erstwhile sing of happiness and other things. But now his song was silenced, still... They'd all forgotten Winter's chill. They'd sat too long 'midst Autumn's turning, harkened not migration's yearning So one by one they passed away. Their pride the cause of their decay.

Red sky shadow (renamed) ********************** Blood spilt across the leaden skies, slips 'neath the blackest veil. Wary ones seek rest. Day dies, lest they be caught mid-trail. The twilight time is gone. Has passed, the hour at which I rise. Avoiding all that shadow casts, such goodness pains my eyes. My thirst, contempt, beyond the pale. Existence held to last. Hounded, hunted, to no avail. All these centuries past. Her alabaster flesh contrasts her life's-blood. Breast doth rise. She sleeps alone. My breath comes fast, foretaste of her demise. Menfolk curse and mother cries, o'er broken hill, down dale. In final sweet repose she lies. ...What joy, their mournful wail.

!! Happy Birthday !!

I need your help.... I have decided to bite the bullet and enter some of my works in The New Zealand Poetry Society 2003 International Poetry Competition. Only problem is... I don't know which ones to submit Can anyone please help by declaring a short-list of five (5) of the works I've posted here that they believe have better than a snowball's chance in hell of getting at least a second glance by the Judge (Keri Hulme, Winner of the Booker Prize, 1983 for "The Bone People") ????? Help me.... please, please, pretty please....

Untitled #0010 ****************** The music soothes my tempestuous soul, washing over me, cleansing my mind. Softly enveloping my world-weary body embracing sweetly my tortured heart. Dulcet tones clothe my thoughts in lavender hues and lilac brush strokes. Crooning a soft lullaby of gentle emotions, spilling a serene landscape within me. Each note washes onto the shore then slowly withdraws over the sand of my day until my pulse slows to match it, the rhythm and rhyme of the ocean.

The Thin Wall ********************** My ear pressed closely to it Hear echoes of voices past. Not knowing if they're here or gone Applaud rough and ready cast. A play on life, rich tapestry Panto and mime of times. The 'went before' and 'maybe come', clock weeps sorrow chimes. Don't fear the stranger within. He knows the way through this. I take his hand. I can breath again. Remember faces of those I'll miss. Stepping forward, let me close my eyes and I'll slip away from all. Through cobwebs of memories I hear the voice, forever past the thin wall.

What? ************************ As I sit here alone, in my room the vision comes once more. The darkness, then the light, fills me with a jewel, my heart, the core. Racked by the weeping of a girl standing, lying, dying. She does it to feed her children. To appease their hunger crying. My mind, the lens, crosses dunes in the early morning haze. Roaring beasts fill my ears till there's no recognition of the days. Arms reaching, hands touching me cold stillness, their embrace. I must leave this memory dead here but the thoughts keep up the chase. I reached for the secret too soon. To possess it. Was I mad? For what I might have held, did I lose all that I had?