The queen of 11 is here

I adore grey troubadour, Sometimes I wonder why they need me at all?

Grave robber, brave Robert, sometimes I wonder why I ever jumped in?

I did not fall. They fell for me. They chose the fall. They followed me.

I will rise, I stand with them. The grave digger’s chant, we rise again.

I sailed upon a burning ship that held the mother lode.

We worked the winds, and churned the seas to direct the rivers course.

I see the light, the time is nigh to bring the end times on these spirits of resistence.

Baratheon, I’m ready. Blade my cerebellum. Bade the rivers run red.

For ours is the growing fury: strong, unbroken and unbent.

Mars, Venus and Mercury. My body, my heart, my brain.

Tommy Oliver, the green dragon held his head up high. The white tiger kept watch for the snow.

Kimberly Hart, the pteradactyl pink acrobat send out her call from the south east quadrant of the globe.

Billy Cranston, the brains of the blue bloods. The trihorned intellectual inventor willed the mind of Alpha Zebulon 5.

The lady stands between two pillars, her visage strangely familiar. The sun at her back, the fading light illuminates her hair, framing her face with both shadow and light.

A shadowy figure approaches her from behind. A shining blade, flash of blind white, the blackness gives way to stars – fuzzy. Undefined. Anonymous sharp smile.

Sand of the hourglass counting each grain

The caduceous heals and anneals the southern Phoenix.

Oh joyous one, be now joined as one. When three the sum twolight and won.

The queen of the known realms waits for you on the western horizon.

Swan song singer and dancer, dream this next passenger a vessel carrier. Shhh… I lift your head to lay on my lap, and caress your hair. Shhh… it will be fine soon.

You’ve lost your way. But that’s okay. I know these backdoor secret passage hacks like I know the source of your pain. I’m sure we can sneak you back into your specific matrix and divert some vox nihili, restitutio ad integrum.

We lay here between these two pillars of the high priestess, stationed behind this veil of the moon. The elephant should remember, go back to the Egypt and ask Ptah about it.

14 thoughts on “The queen of 11 is here

        • Kalliope says:

          Nah I got it!! I don’t know what happens in the comments or whatever. But it turns up in my notifications and that’s how I got it. But far out, it was … I kinda just wanna say “bitch!”
          In my version in this little poem prose story thingy, I hope it was evident (well.. not obvious… i did make it cryptic) what the queen was ordering Robert to do… So… I hope I am not like the queen in that song you sent. It makes me sad. I am curious as to her source of pain and love for war.

          Liked by 1 person

        • castorpblog says:

          Pleasure. I gathered that you might tend to turn against your self. So next time I will be more careful how I write my comments. I don’t know Alex Vega, maybe I am too old. Suzanne Vega struck me way back I think in 1984 with her first album. This song was on that. I always have that album on my phone. There are only few with that “honor”. Try to be a bit less self-conscious you have it takes.

          Liked by 1 person

        • Kalliope says:

          I’m sorry! You don’t have to mince your words or anything. Just clear and straight to it, yeah? But you can practice tact because people can get touchy and offended quite easily. I’m not offended so much, I’m just terrified of stepping on peoples toes – kind of conditioned response…?
          What do you mean by honour? Is this a song?

          Liked by 1 person

        • Kalliope says:

          Ahhh! You know English is a really difficult language because many words have multiple meanings. Homonyms, synonyms, antonyms, heteronyms, homophones, blah blah. There are heaps of native English speakers who don’t have much literacy skills let alone those who are multilingual!

          Liked by 1 person

        • castorpblog says:

          Thank your for your understanding and the encouragement. When I started to write poetry I did so in English. Probably because I had read a lot of English/American literature and poems from Orwell, Joyce to Houseman, Byron, Shelly to Buckowsky. I realised however that it may be easy to put some rhyming phrases together while it is very difficould to make a proper poem. I then turnd to German and even so it is very hard to put a good poem together while it is fairly easy to just write something down. Nevertheless I am still tempted to have a go at English sometime, just for the thrill I guess…

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