jonaht: (pink trees)

She sped down the road
Past the state cop
Who didn’t seem to care
Didn’t make her stop.

She zoomed down the lane
Past the yellow eyed dog
Who was too lazy to bark
And slept like a log.

Rushed by the pond
No fishermen did see
He was tying up a fly
Leaning on a willow tree.

He was making a wish
And trusting on luck
To finally catch the big one
Hiding in the dark muck.

She flew by the church
Which sat on a hill
A place for funerals or to wed
But the air there was still.

No notice of the park
Music in the air
She missed the gazebo
And the band playing there.

The people were gathered
Beneath the oak trees
Enjoying their dinner
Waving away the honey bees.

She looked straight ahead
Eyes on the road
Never saw the sun set
Colors of red and gold.

She lived like she drove
All furious and fast
Missed the peace and beauty
No time to make it last.

She should’ve slowed down
To take the time
To see the world around her
Maybe read a good rhyme.


jonaht: (pink trees)


As the sun went down
From the blazing sky
I laid my love down
And watched her die.
We spent our lives
Wandering meadows wide
Over vast mountain tops
And riding the sea tide.
We conversed with strangers
Who soon were not
Leaving behind a friend
In each and every spot.
We slept in castles
And huts as well
Each one was our home
Until the next night fell.
Our days were numbered
But we filled them each
Full of music and laughter
And love within our reach.
We soon grew old
My love and I
It was time to settle
Under that sunny sky.
I laid her to rest
Under a blooming pink tree
My spot beside her
Already waiting for me.
It won’t be long
Until we once again roam
Exploring the new wonders
Of our heavenly home.


The Frog

Jun. 23rd, 2009 08:05 pm
jonaht: (Default)
Once upon a time
There was a frog
A jolly old frog was he.

He jumped and he hopped
He went all about
And filled his life with glee.

Along came the girl
This story's been told
But the frog wanted to flee.

She bent and kisssed him
And patted his head
He looked from her to me.

I shrugged my shoulders
And shook my head
We just stood there us three.

Why did she kiss him
Why did I watch
What fools we all be.

jonaht: (masks)
It kind of hurts
When you stick in your knife
It kind of hurts
As much as your words.

Words can force us,
Coerce us, bind us,
Guilt us, move us,
Use us, tempt us.

The magic of words
Powerful in their own rights
Combined in thousands of ways
To create.

Create stories, plays,
Poems, rituals,
Vows, lectures,
Promises, songs.

Be careful with words
They cut and sting
Give hope and pleasure
They advise and mislead.

And the strongest of all
Used in a multiple of way
Proclaimed for great and small
Is the word LOVE.

jonaht: (fairy eyes)
Silence and echoes
Bounce through space
Bangs against walls
Shown on my face

Whispers and screams
Leak into my ears
Bleed from my nose
Slide down in my tears

Lost not yet found
Wanders not led
The devil he follows
Lies down in my bed

Angels behind me
And demons before
Circles surrounds me
Drawn on the floor

One spirit may guide me
One other to tempt
Backwards and forwards
Filled with contempt

Goodness binds me
Fills me with light
Hatred drowns me
Seduces my night

Close all my eyes
No signs on my face
Hear silence and echoes
Bounce through space.

jonaht: (angel fairie)
Wind blew hot over the elvish meadow
Lights shining of silver and gold
Sparkles moving through the blades
Gathered to witness magic of old.

The faeries and sprites put aside their differences
To attend the most elegant and lavish ball
It follows the princes' and princess' wedding
Both of them lean, regal, and tall.

Badgers and beavers were the guards
To keep out rifraff: goblins and trolls
They liked to ruin the fun of others
And their leaders were the mighty moles.

Golden cups of amber was passed
Ambrosia, nectar, and pollen too
Sap and berries: eaten with glee
Consumed along with midnight dew.

Music of drums, flutes, and bells
Floated over their heads to many delight
The dancing was led by tiny gnomes
The party lasted throughout the night.

At long last the evening was spent
The dancers seperated as they kissed
One by one they parted once more
And went and faded into the mist.


More Puck

Apr. 11th, 2009 12:14 pm
jonaht: (peace)
Myrea Pettit as Absinthe ­The Green Fairy-La Fée Verté
Either I mistake your shape and making quite,                                                                          
Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite
Called Robin Goodfellow. Are not you he                                                                                           
That frights the maidens of the villagery,                                                                                        
milk, and sometimes labour in the quern                                                                 ,
And bootless make the breathless housewife churn,
And sometime make the drink to bear no barm,
Mislead night-wanders, laughing at their harm?
Those that Hobgoblin call you, and sweet Puck,
You do their work, and they shall have good luck.
Are you not he?

Thou speakest aright;
I am that merry wanderer of the night.
I jest to Oberon, and make him smile
When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile,
Neighing in likeness of a filly foal;
And sometime lurk I in a gossip's bowl
In very likeness of a roasted crab,
And when she drinks, against her lips I bob
And on her withered dewlap pour the ale.
The wisest aunt, telling the saddest tale,
Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me;
Then slip I from her bum, down topples she,
And 'tailor' cries, and falls into a cough;                       
And then the whole quire hold their hips and laugh,               
And waxen in their mirth, and neeze, and swear
A merrier hour was never wasted there.                                                

jonaht: (angel fairie)

If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,--
That you have but slumber'd here,
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend:
If you pardon, we will mend.
And, as I am an honest Puck,
If we have unearned luck
Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue,
We will make amends ere long;
Else the Puck a liar call:
So, good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends.

A Midsummer Night's Dream by William Shakespeare.


Apr. 7th, 2009 05:03 pm
jonaht: (supernatural)



1) Crack of the bat                                        4) The team scores a run
Smack of the ball                                               The bases are full
Roar of the crowd                                               The dugout starts a cheer
It's over the wall.                                                 "Hit to the hole."

2) The drinks get warm                                 5) The crowd gets restless
Faces start to burn                                               The times almost up
Three more outs                                                   The team wins by one
Now it's their turn.                                                 Heads for the tourney cup.

3) Run around the field                                   6) It's time to head home
Slide into the base                                               With sunburns galore
Ump calls you out                                                 It's been a tiring day
Coach argues the case                                        Who's ready for more?

Not me! But I have one more tonight and maybe more tomorrow.  Aarrgh.

The Dragon

Apr. 4th, 2009 11:00 pm
jonaht: (dinner time)
The dragon was old but still strong
He tested his talons like steel
Remembered the virgin - his last meal
Rolled over the gems where they belong

Thought of the knights he had fought
Saw the moonlight glisten on his wings
Felt the sword cut that still stings
Wished for the mate which he still sought

Colonies that once filled the air
Beating their wings into a frenzied mass
Fighting over the lost and young lass
Braving the skies without a care

The dragon was old but still strong
But loneliness brought about his death
Good memories accompanied his last breath
There among the gems where he belong.


Cities a-z

Mar. 31st, 2009 09:01 am
jonaht: (cool  hug)
Aberdeen, Boise,
Chicago, Dover
We really want to go
Let's just walk on over

Fairbank, Gabbs,
Harrison, Ivy
We'll stroll right on thru
All dressed in ivory.

Jackson, Karns,
Lakota, Malcolm.
Wherever we go
We always feel welcome

Newton, Oracle,
Parsons, Quick
We'll gain our fame
as a maverick

Rockford, Sagle,
Tifton, Upland,
We don't need to hear
Their constant reprimand.

Varna, Windsor,
Xenia, York,
We'll impress them all
WIth our new found torc.

One last city to go
We'll head for Zachary
It's there we'll wed
In our best finery.

*Not my best but I kept getting stuck.  It also gave me a headache.  Ow.
** man, double dam. I forgot E.  Noooo!
jonaht: (Awwww!)
I'm trying to write a poem
There's one going through my head
But I can't seem to rhyme
Perhaps I should sing instead.

My thoughts won't go straight
I lost part of my credential
I can't find my rhyming dictionary
Perhaps it could be influential.

The words are beating me to a pulp
This is becoming malicious
So this could be my demise
What does it matter -  It's all fictitious.

jonaht: (Rory)

I was going to write this really long whinny blog about how terrible my day was yesterday.  But I will be merciful.  This whole week is really crappy.  But there's a silver lining.  SUPERNATURAL! NEW! TONIGHT!

Here's a poem I wrote last night which reveals my state of mind at the time but has recently calmed down.


Once there was a man
Then he was no more
It's the same old story
Down to  the core.

You wake up one day
And then you're dead
What happened to life?
When were you bled?

Everything's so fleeting
It happens, a waste
In between there's longing
Emptiness, chaos, being chaste

So we go through our days
In a never ending gloom
Should we stand up brave
Or succumb to our doom?
jonaht: (ship challenge)

Tall mountains he had walked across
Vast seas that he had sailed
He moved large boulders in a toss
And galleys had had bailed.

Now let me tell my tale for you
A ballad I will sing
Sit back and I will now begin
The story of a king.

For Chris, he was much younger then
Nor more than you or I
His father died in glories past
And Chris was left to cry.

His lovely sister took the throne             (His evil uncle took the throne)
But evil brother came                               (A man of greedy fame)
The land left to turn to waste
And he's the one to blame.

Now Chris was raised in secret lands
The wizard knew what's right
He sent the boy away to flee
He saved his life by flight.

Chris' strength had saved him from attack
His mighty sword did well
He sent them back or killed them off
And bloody turned the dell.

The people he had met were fair
The castles filled with gold
The court was surely glad to share
And ladies there weren't  cold.

One golden day the wizard came
He said, "Return ye home
Prepare yourself to fight the king
No more are ye to roam."

Chris traveled back across the sea
He knew his uncle's might
He got himself armour and chain    (He armed himself with sword and chain)
The king can't win this fight.

The end is here, now told to you
The story here is true                              (With cheers the rafters ring)
Believe me, friend, of what I say          (Believe me, friend, this story's true)
The rightful king now rules.                   (They crowned their rightful king.)


jonaht: (ship challenge)
The living soul has been reborn again
To share the knowledge it had ascertained
It came to take the sins away and then
To save the ready and the fixed ordained.

It's here to be the messenger of faith
And slung across its shoulder lies a harp
To use as for support just like a lathe
To all the wanderers that tend to carp.

And whosoever shall be bold enough
To kneel before the holy spirit form
Be not afraid for it will not be rough
The tears will stay hehind the fleeing storm.

The living soul has been reborn again
The mighty form that is and always been.

The waves collide
Grandly flaunting their power
To the meek and small.

jonaht: (Default)

The soft white down of my huge bed
Had let me drift away
My troubles left me there in peace
My dreams have come to stay.

The feathers from my mother's goose
Bring music to my ears
My eyes were tired from lack of sleep
But now I have no fears.

The wakeful nights have gone away
My weary head does fall
The blissful night has brought relief
The gentle dreams do call.

 Black mask over eyes
Scurrying through the forest
Living in the dark.

Do not mock me crow
For my claws are sharp and strong
Enemy of birds.

The Ship
The ship left at dawn for the Ivory Coast
A ship of no beauty and nothing to boast
Her captain is stern but a mighty good host
The ship will bring back riches of diamonds and gold
Mighty chests of treasure but nothing too bold
To this ship of wonders, I'll gladly toast.
jonaht: (Default)

So without spoiling: Supernatural was great. Naturally.  Very touching.  Now Jules wants a gilmore girls marathon.  we're on season six. 

I dreamed i had a wood sprite in the house who cleaned and brought me tea.  Sort of like Ianto but smaller and white hair.  very strange.

Open field of grass
Owner comes to groom the mane
Stable warm and fresh

Gracefully it flies
Sunlight flashing on its wings
Eyes searching for prey

African Lion
Head held with great pride
Eyes squinting against the sun
Resting for the hunt


Jan. 27th, 2009 08:56 am
jonaht: (Default)

Down in the valley with the blue moon so bright
Lived the emerald queen with her majestic might.
She ruled over the gnomes, the elves, and sprites,
Who frolicked all day flying their kites.

One magical evening when the moon clouded over
Arrived in the valley a hermit name Grover.
He had on his neck a mysterious clover
Which contained the word pronounced Trover.

The queen met him on the isle of Faye,
And she began to speak in her royal way.
"I want you out of my land and hear what I say,
Pack your things and leave in your cart of hay."

So he got all his things and took a hold
Of all his belongings, bronze and silver molds.
He gathered his trinkets and boxes of gold
And left her not a thing for manner so cold.

So listen children, be kind to newcomers,
You'll be surprised of what surprises they uncover.

jonaht: (Default)

Under the twilight
In the weaving grass,
The insects hummed
A chorus mass.

They all fell silent
To the little one's drum,
That came from the depths
of his hollow one's tum.

The children stood still
Then began to seek,
All through the grass
They search for the meek.

But the little one was hidden
Down deep below,
Where only the strong
Ever dare to go.

His tummy beats all day
Than tails at night,
Sleepy hours reach him
With the fading light.

There are the hours
Of the firefly dance,
Where they skip and jump
And some even prance.


jonaht: (ryan)
"I could love you if I just had the time.  But who could love me? I am out of my mind."  Panic

The desert life awakens by the light
The small white flowers blossom in the cracks
The lizards rush through bushes in their flight
The smooth dry snake spreads out to warm its back.
The spider comes for its mid-morning snack
The brittle limbs of trees reach toward the sky
The elf owl sit and search with eyes of black
The day ahead will show a creature die.
The desert has its mean; the mighty will get by.


part eight posted


jonaht: (Default)

October 2013

13 141516171819


RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 19th, 2017 08:40 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios