Tag Archives: poetic

Goblin Market – Christina Rossetti

Christina Rossetti’s Goblin Market

One of my all-time favorite poems, though I cannot recite it from memory yet; this deserves to be in inspiration corner because of the beautiful haunting sceneries Rossetti sets up for the reader.

Goblins tempting young maidens to buy their fruits, though maidens must never buy fruits from goblin men lest they desire a dismal end; very inspiring in an artistic way too, for me. The times I have read this poem and thought, I wish I could do better art, I would paint these fruits and the goblin men in the market; but I do not have the skills to do that as of yet, that will be attempted in the future though.

This is my favorite as it is a fantasy poem and I think this review deserves to be on a site such as this, fantasyfed, don’t you?

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Filed under My inspirations

Dreams of sugar

Little dreams of sugar

Little dreams of cake

Christmas is coming

It’s time to celebrate

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Filed under Poems D - F

reality come to check

So near and yet still so far

I’ve a long way to get home

I cannot tell how far it is

So until then I’ll have to roam

I seek home here and I seek home there

Where there are better days

I need my reality to come to check

I feel like I’m in a craze

What am I and who will I be?

That’s the question now

Maybe I will find out some day

But until then I’ve much to plough

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Filed under Poems P - R

Night Kinsfolk

As I walk into the valley of the shadow of death

I fear no evil

For evil is me

And I am it

 

Though darkness surrounds my very soul

I fear not the legends of monsters old

For I am a monster

And I am old

 

And though I seem fragile, dainty and weary

I am but an illusion

I am your confusion

My deary

I am strong, I am fierce and I never tire

For blood is my desire

 

I am the whispers of Carpathian folk

The night mistress of blood

With her vampire kinsfolk

I am they

And they are me

And together we will for eternity, be

As one

 

 

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Filed under Poems M - O

Life is just cruel

What is the point of living when everyone wants a fight?

What is the point of talking if they don’t believe your plight?

What’s the point of contact, if you’ve nothing to say to each other?

What’s the point of talking if they won’t believe one and other?

What’s the point of life at all?

I’m at a lost, life’s just cruel.

All I want is a bit of peace

A little quiet in the least

Why can’t people let me be?

Why am I denied to be free?

Just leave me alone

That’s what you can do

There’s nothing to talk about

Just make do.

Let me ignore everyone from my past

So I can find my peace at last

 

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Filed under Poems J - L

I’m a cocktail

I am a mix, a cocktail of habits and idiosyncrasies

I am a person

I am my self

An individual

I control what I like and what I do

I do them for me and not for you

I am a rainbow of surprises

And what you’ll know of me is what I gift to you

You may not see the whole picture

To survive one person has many masks

Do not trust those with few

Nothing is completely black and white

Everything and everyone is an array of color

An enmeshment of flavors

We are our chefs of life

Go forth, be yourself, in delight

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Filed under Poems G - I

Mind gallery

My mind is like a gallery, with pictures you can’t see

Oh how I wish you’ll see them, what sights there are in me

My memories of lavender fields and brightly colored stones

And kestrels up on the wing, over my head have flown

Delightful little butterflies who have landed on my hand

And baby swans upon the lake all over this pleasant land

I have seen such wonders, such a joy to see

Little rabbits playing, frolicking by trees

I have seen the otter holding its mother’s hand

I have seen a rainbow, arching over our land

The little things in life are sweet

I find nature a beautiful treat

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Filed under Poems M - O

Prosy fiction

I like writing very prosy descriptions from time to time and I was wondering if there was a market for prose fiction novels where there is a storyline but it’s mostly prose, such as;

The sand was warm to walk upon, like a heated blanket, she felt wrapped in a blanket of light.  She looked into the blue skies of noon and smiled to herself, for her love was far away on the ocean pirating his life for her wealth, so she could maintain her velvety fashions.

Her red hair blew in front of her eyes, giving the world a rusty tinge, the ocean seemed like melted copper when it did that, and her thoughts drifted into memories of the last time she was with Timothy.

I like writing like this sometimes, but I sometimes worry that there’s no market for it and that publishers will simply ask me to not to describe things so much, when over description was my intention.

I like reading things like this but not all the time and I was wondering if there’s a market that’s not been touched yet and the reason behind it is because publishers and agents are becoming afraid of new forms of writing (in my opinion).

As a fantasy reader I prefer prose like fantasy books than those traditional types of books.  Who agrees with me?  Please comment…

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Filed under About my work

Saying farewell to your past

Sometimes you’ve just got to abandon all that you once knew

It is better that way, don’t let things stew

If people bring you down, whether they’re family or not

Then you are better off without them, or else your life will rot

They zap out all your energy

They throw away your years

And even worse than that, they fill your days with tears

Guess what?  You’ll be strong without them

Your life will see better days

You can do anything

Without their criticizing malaise

Go ahead and you’ll see

New friendships will occur

Just dust yourself down and say farewell

To your past and your wreckers

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Filed under Poems S - U

Jelly beans

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A mix of colors in my jar makes it seem I’ve captured rainbows

My sugary treats tastes so great, I hope that you won’t suppose that I’d share these with you?

My little sweet drops of dew?

They’re mine, all mine!

I will not share

Do not ask for one

Don’t you dare!

They’re my tasty beans

They’re my favorite treat

Oh hang on there, isn’t he sweet?

He can have one, but you cannot

Here you are my little tot

I’d better hurry up and eat the lot

 

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Filed under Poems J - L