Poetry…
I wanted to share with you a couple poems done on the forum by Larry Roth…aka xaxnar
I think these are really wonderful and thought you’d all enjoy them as well.
On the Other Side of Sleep
by xaxnar 2-14-08
She waits for me,
On the other side of sleep.
I close my eyes,
And once more we meet.
Child of princes,
Fairest of face
A woman warrior
With Elfin grace.
This world is wider than we know
Where lies the land to which I go?
Who is it, whose heart I hold?
Who is it, for whom I stand so bold?
On sword-borne dreams
I trace my flight
Return to her
On wings of Night.
Open my eyes
On Dreamland
I reach for her;
She takes my hand.
Life’s not so simple as it seems
Where lies your heart if not in dreams?
Who’s to say just what is real?
If not those things we hope and feel?
She waits for me,
On the other side of sleep
And I must return,
My promises to keep.
The Rant of Nicodemus
By xaxnar 02-19-08 From Astoria’s keep I rule Dreamland
Kings all wait on my command
Queens in their glory must scrape and bow
Lest displeasure wrinkle my brow
With the Nightmare Realm I league
Undermine all with my intrigue
And here’s the most amusing thing
None dare ask “Who died and made ME king?”
Their past from them I’ve stolen away
History – is what I say
I smile as I stoke their fears
Crocodiles from ME learned their tears
Dreamland squirms beneath my claw
I am the Decider – I am the Law
There’s nothing Good, nothing Evil
All there is – is what I will
Those stinking humans and their dreams
I’ll make a harvest of their screams
Call down nightmares across the land
Twist their spirits within my hand
Into my land they think to creep
And steal some pleasure while they sleep
On their souls I’ll leave my mark
And teach them to respect the Dark.
But now within my rising hour
Is there a threat to all my power?
Is there something out of the past?
That seeks to bring me down at last?
NO! I’ll not have it, not be afraid
From my dark course I’ll not be swayed
By nothing will I be dismayed
And all their hopes shall be unmade
But…
Can Betrayer be betrayed?
Will there be justice, long delayed?
Over my plans there falls a shade
For now – somewhere –
There is a blade…
Thank you Larry. I’m honored by your talents!
Wow! This is wonderful. Thank YOU Scott – because without your work here, I never would have been inspired in the first place.
As I’ve mentioned in a forum thread, this stuff just emerges from the back of my brain from time to time, given the right trigger. As it happens, I was unable to fight off a limerick, so here goes this morning:
Felicity
A cat-girl well known as a thief,
Showed up to save Alex from grief.
She’s street-wise and smart,
But has a good heart –
And oft provides comic relief!
She is SO going to make me pay for that. ;-{)
@Larry
These poems really capture the essence of Dreamland. They are truly wonderful pieces. I wish I had your talent for rhyming.
Like I said on the boards–let’s put them to epic music! We’ll put Dreamland on Broadway!
Thanks for the kind words! The rhyming is fun, as is the rhythm. Pace the words right, and the rhythms can make them dance in your mind, call up the emotions behind them, and move you along with them. If I’ve managed to do that here, your enjoyment is my reward.
I especially liked “On the Other Side of Sleep.”
Is Nicodemus himself about to appear?
So are we to take these poems as canon? Still hoping there’s a lot more to Nicodemus’ character than typical cartoon villain. Oh wait, there he is now.;)
Whether or not these poems are canon is Scott’s call; I’m just extrapolating from what I’ve seen in the story plus the transmogrification that goes on in the back of my brain.
It’s kind of like a Hal Mayne thing, except I don’t have the Final Encyclopedia to check my poetic visualizations against. I’ve got a theory or two about about Nicodemus that may have colored my verses, but no way of knowing if they’ll pan out.
Obviously Nicodemus is up to something, as when he said he had had high hopes for Nastajia due to her anger and such back in Astoria just before they leaped – but what his ultimate goals are remain to be revealed. I tried to keep things ambiguous enough to fit with what we do know.
As for the other poem, it’s as true and unchanging as the moment a when a flower reaches full bloom. Whatever happens after that can’t change the meaning of that instant’s truth. It just is. You can spend the rest of your life trying to find another like it.
I’m fumbling around the ideal Lois McMaster Bujold captured in “The Sharing Knife: Beguilment”, when Fawn and Dag share the things they remember that can get them through a dry spell of the soul, the uselessly beautiful things that no one else might see.