Part 6 of poems transferred over from the old website.
Featuring poems by Tolkien, Julie M. Prus, and Sloane Jensen.
Header image by David Demaret.
Head over to our contact page if you have a poem to contribute 🙂
1. From The Adventures of Tom Bombadil
There was an old dragon under gray stone;
his red eyes blinked as he lay alone.
His joy was dead and his youth spent,
he was knobbed and wrinkled,
and his limbs bent in the long years to his gold chained;
in his heart’s furnace the fire waned.
To his belly’s slime gems stuck thick,
silver and gold he would snuff and lick:
he knew the place of the least ring
beneath the shadow of his black wing.
Of thieves he thought on his hard bed,
and dreamed that on their flesh he fed,
their bones-crushed, and their blood drunk:
his ears drooped and his breath sank.
Mail-rings rang. He heard them not.
A voice echoed in his deep grot:
a young warrior with a bright sword
called him forth to defend his hoard.
His teeth were knives, and on horn his hide,
but iron tore him, and his flame died.
– © Professor J.R.R.Tolkien
Bio: J.R.R. Tolkien is an internationally renowned fantasy writer. He is best known for being the author of ‘The Hobbit’ and ‘The Lord of the Rings’ trilogy. The dragon Smaug was inspired by Tolkien’s early reading of mythology. Some of the roots of Middle-earth lay with his childhood love of dragons. (Reference: The Smithsonian)
Website: The Tolkien Society
2. Dragon of the Cloak
Receeding into the caves of Mount Athanaton
Stands the Dragon of the Cloak
Holding a flickering remnant of time in his whithering talons.
The creature’s form brought forth by the candle’s dancing light.
Glazed eyes, of a marble’s cold stare, is the extent of his sight.
Rippled scales of crimson sand layer his age-beaten face.
A thick, red, wool-hooded robe undulates along a steady limping pace.
Feeling the essence of his everlasting presence,
Hurling the cloak to asphixiate my senses.
My ignored consent demands all focus on him,
As miscellaneous thoughts spin in a vertigo devoid of whim.
Within the walls of a wind-worn cavernous dwelling,
A repeated bleating capsuled in future’s sensored speach.
Seeping out as a slithering mist to continue this silent fortelling,
A low tonality, of an infrasonic melody, beyond empirical reach.
Periodically extracted from a domestic domain
Transfixed amongst dense foliage, dismal and arcane.
Athanaton’s familiar sight remains a static monument to infinity,
But the time-keeper’s entity is all but distant from me.
Visions of a wax-drippen floor brought forth clues toward my demise.
A life long death sentence exposed to my eyes.
The blood-line of youth left trailing behind.
A twist of his wrist constricted my time.
The mind I once controlled now he holds in his sickle-clawed traps.
Fleeing through the forest’s deathwish, served to me on a graven plate.
Syringe-injected images display the blazen candle he grasps,
Reminding me of its extinction that will one day seal my fate.
Dominating my thoughts,
With wicked tenacity.
And whenever he wants,
He shows what is left of me.
Though I rarely see him, I know when he’s near
Persistently repeating a phrase only I can hear.
A distant bellowing from his haggard snout,
Whispering delicately, with morbid delight
These mortifying words into my ear…
“Your Time Is Running Out”
~ © Julie M. Prus
Author’s Comments: This poem was yet another little attempt at my play of words…I like to get complicated with my writing, as well as devastatingly metaphorical. I just like to be descriptive. This poem represents a dragon possessing immortal life who holds a candle in his hands, and that candle represents the life span of my life. It describes how I sometimes get forced mentally into his world where he exposes the remaining part of the candle signifying how much time I have left. Sometimes, he wickedly tilts the candle to make it burn faster…all in all, this poem is a reminder to me, as well as all of us, not to be constantly concerned with the things we have yet to do, the promises we made for the future, as well as all the things that preoccupy our lives, and to sometimes just enjoy the moment for what is at hand — for life is fragile and full of stresses, but it should take little effort to envelope ourselves in what we were endowed with.
3. Dragon Wise, Dragon Old…
Dragon wise, dragon old,
Dragon who did not hoard or covet
glittering jewels or gleaming gold.
Dragon who did not hide and sleep
in some great, dark, hidden mountain cave,
Dragon who left his own homeland to help and save.
Dragon who did not revel
in death, destruction, and Hellfire,
Dragon who did not see himself
as a being better or higher.
Dragon who long ago stood with us,
the last of the brave and the good,
Dragon who resisted that great Evil
and against tempting Darkness withstood.
Dragon who faced the terrible being
who sought to corrupt and destroy all life,
Dragon who knew him all too well
though many years of war and strife.
Dragon who beheld the satanic might
of the Dark Foe without fear,
Dragon who spoke only four words to him,
“Your reign ends here!”
Dragon who stared, undaunted, unfazed
into the Dark Foe’s single, raging, hating eye,
Dragon who did not flinch when the demon screamed back:
“I will make your blood reign from the sky!”
Dragon who held the fate our dear world
in his long, lethal claws,
Dragon who challenged the Dark Foe’s armies
through gaping, flaming jaws.
Dragon whose mighty roar
was like the loudest of all thunder,
Dragon whose terrible god-like voice
tore their twisted minds asunder.
Dragon who laughed at the Dark Foe,
whose wrath then cloaked the sun,
Dragon who filled us with his courage
when we all wanted to run.
Dragon whose white fire drove back
the Blackness of the Night,
Dragon who battled on, wounded,
yet refusing to rest or to turn from the fight.
Dragon who was the first to charge
and the last to retreat,
Dragon who showed our enemies
the true meaning of defeat.
Dragon who rose like a god on great wings
to fight the Dark Foe to the death,
Dragon who had vowed to defend us and our world
until his last breath.
Dragon whose blood ran free when pierced through
with the poisoned sword of the the Dark Foe,
Dragon who crushed him in a deadly embrace
as he took that final, fatal blow.
Dragon who continued to fight,
his Spirit still surging and burning within,
Dragon who was so pure and powerful,
Death was afraid to step forward and claim him.
Dragon who ascended with the Dark Foe to the heights
where only the stars and suns dwell.
Dragon who showed him the beautiful Earth
he sought to turn into a godless hell.
Dragon who then drove his claws into the Dark Foe
and tore out his vile, malignant spirit,
Dragon who cried, “You began it, I stopped it,
and now let the Maker Himself finish it!”
Dragon who finally fell pierced from the sky
like a huge burning star,
Dragon whose thundering death-cry
was herd by all near and far.
Dragon who died with the Dark Foe’s empty body
clutched tight in his steel grasp,
Dragon who won us the greatest victory
with his final, pain-filled gasp.
Dragon whose great Soul now forever flies
through Heaven’s endless golden skies,
Dragon who lit up our dark, dreary world
with a bright Light that never dies.
Dragon who loved us so much,
the ultimate gift he did willingly give,
Dragon who gave us his one Life
so we all could continue to thrive and live.
Dragon who filled our hard hearts
with his wisdom, kindness and love,
Dragon who was so powerful and strong
yet humble to the Great God Above.
Dragon who befriended us, lifted us up,
and brought us all as comrades together.
Dragon whose great words and deeds
will be cherished and remembered forever.
Dragon fierce yet wise, dragon strong yet old,
Oh, heavenly Dragon rest in peace,
for your tale has been, and always will be, told.
– Copyright by Sloane Jensen. 2008