Hey! It's a bunch of Haiku of varying quality! Looks like Solomon had a LOT of time to kill in his durance. And it looks like he's picked it up since his return.
Side-note: Solomon's Haiku Journal started out meant to be strictly for Haiku, but as his clarity has decreased, he has allowed other thoughts to creep onto the pages. Other styles of poetry may be included, and perhaps a few rants or hastily-jotted notes, songs, or puzzling ramblings.
The turning of years
journeyed in joy and folly
left nothing but fog.
Dark caverns beneath
glow with crystal memories
flowing downriver.
Sweet words in my ear
whisper of people - places -
that all could be mine.
I am the vessel,
the Watcher on the Water.
My voyage begins.
I stir from chained dreams,
glimpsing my reflection, changed,
and dive to freedom.
Glinting gems shimmer
beneath the Sea of Knowledge,
singing and screaming.
Hundreds of lives lost.
Amid thornlight, three endure:
my guards and my guide.
Together we fall.
Old world mirrors older words
to ferry me home.
Watching from afar,
an outsider looking in
through the looking glass.
My younger form claimed,
fear strikes like a sunset storm.
Am I the echo?
The tide moves in time,
a dance I learned long ago:
"As above, below."
I strayed toward hope,
in search of truth and fortune.
Fate had other plans.
We travelers bound -
an Eddy in the water
makes anchors of us.
New company formed,
boldness and survival war
within the ghost-town.
The lighthouse called us:
a beacon for memories
and darker things still.
Unwelcome guests wait
just beyond the threshold door,
to play their foul games.
Maelstrom on all sides,
the guardians bid farewell.
Crumbling paths lead us.
I look in its eyes -
human guise but Hedge cruelty,
and pull the trigger.
My family bought,
my blood-price wrought in verse, hence:
A Song for Sixpence.
The fear that rules us
leaves grim ruin in its wake.
Conquer it and Rule.
Upon the rooftops,
we pluck crystal fruits and shine.
Detroit is laid bare.
My drive now reborn:
to stalk beneath grass and fetch
the pawns turned on us.
Faerie tales traded,
out in the open, seduced
by mundane splendor.
===
With steel they still
might steal you away;
with Iron the strength to carry the day,
and bring back sight to light your way:
touch Iron to eyes -
clear vision will stay.
===
Arcadian blade
tethered by motley oath, strikes -
the Dragon greets me.
Hedgespun Brotherhood
buying friendship and silence
a year and a day.
Skittish quarry flushed -
prepared for Doomsday bolt-holes.
Beware us, Strangers.
Such threats to behold!
Frosted intrigue paints the walls:
a menagerie.
A day at market
cuts across the Windward Wave,
at low tide for now.
I took my first steps
as an agent of my own,
while Knights and Kings sparred.
The wild path narrows
as Mist-Burnt Veil closes in:
a fork lies ahead.
My sanctum within -
reflecting upon the past,
safe and sound, perhaps.
Evening Whispers
ring false Freehold promises -
Napoleon Reigns.
When walking in mist,
take care not to lose yourself
lest you fade away.
Sleepwalking nightmare -
I have touched the River Styx
and plucked life from it.
Questions linger here
on corpse-tongue and Raven-wing;
the thorns lie hidden.
The Gates are open,
and a lurking VOID peeks through.
There’s no turning back.
That seductive Taste
of Sacred Knowledge unearned,
like Fear in Moonlight.
We are broken things
leaning against each other:
jagged, warped mirrors.
===
Thank you my Guardians, my Threefold Guide. You have taught me much, and I will return the favor if I can. I am forever marked by your memories, by your knowledge. And I will mark others in your name. With a life saved, a death wrought, and a balancing of the scales. You will not be forgotten.
From you – Midwife – I learned Compassion. I learned the value of a life preserved, the potential within each of us and within myself. From you, I learned to honor one’s teachers. And as my first teacher – knowingly or not – I Honor you above all. The threads of birth and rebirth connect us all together, and we can learn much helping others in this world. For teaching me that we are each Re-Made with every life we touch, I Honor you.
From you – Huntsman – I learned Persistence. I learned the importance of the struggle in reaching one’s goals. I learned of the struggle to survive, of defiance against the inevitable and the spectre of death. From you, I learned to honor the lives I take, to honor my kills. For some to live, others may need to die. Though faith lifted your heart, it was you who lifted your feet. For teaching me how to endure endless hardship, I Honor you.
From you – Student – I learned Cleverness. I learned that the world will try to drag you down if it can. I learned that hard work only gets you partway when the universe conspires against you. From you, I learned to honor myself through mindful pursuit and growth. Lex Talionis is alive and well, and so too shall I be satisfied. For some to flourish, others may need to wither. For teaching me to take care of myself, I Honor you.
Compassion, Persistence, and Cleverness. These are my Tenets, this is my Creed. None shall rule, but all shall work in harmony. I will strive for that balance, and rule in their stead. Too much compassion can weaken you. Too much persistence can narrow your mind. Too much cleverness can rob you of the journey and true understanding.
===
My tears joined many.
'You have my Wyrd,' she told me,
and worse - it was true.
===
Many do not wish to meet the gaze of Fear. But my fear is not a single pair of eyes, staring at me from across the room. It is the glint in the dark paths. The whispering wind by my ear. And the lurking presence hurrying my steps. Fear is all around me, but where to look? Where do I meet Your Gaze? Face me! Speak Your Peace. I will not be abandoned.
Crawl out from your pit, slink from the shadows.
EMBRACE ME.
===
I live in the mist to hide my sin.
What was I looking for, what did I find?
I lost my life, my love, my kin.
What did I think I would get back in kind?
Why did I think that She wouldn't mind?
How could I be so deaf, dumb, and blind?
What did I sign? Was it a sign?
How far do I mine? How far do I climb?
I've run out of time!
I'm... gone
===
Hazy clouds disperse,
a trailing fugue upon us
as we Remember.
Dear Relentless Friend, / Thank you for crossing my path / on a distant shore.
Unquenchable Fire: / Sanguine friend who winks at death, / hunting for her joy.
Be true to Yourself. / Whoever You are is You. / You are You are You.
You need not impress. / They will know you by your Song / and join in refrain.
I'm Santa Clause y'all.
Dishin' out Contracts of Cheer
ahead of New Year's.
I beheld a choir:
Spooky, Scary Skeletons
singing of deeds past.
(And now a whimsical interlude)
There was a time for change
when clouds roiled thunder.
The Great Game played us all,
and held us deep in slumber.
The Silent Starlight / my eternal confidante / distant friend held close.
The heart of my throne / shining splendor, darkest home. / Ebon echoes lie.
Remember Hope's Peak / when gates crash and arrows fly, / when Freedom calls you.
Hellish industry - / in Iron Sight the smoke births... / abominations.
Golden memories - / of stories unfurled with friends - / our timeless treasures.
The whistling pillars / congregate in harmony, / singing ancient songs.
The woods grew silent, / a great hush spread like the plague. / The air itself, still.
With colors vibrant, / and sharp sizzling spices, / senses are seduced.
The horse plods gently, / tack and bridle calm comfort / as rhythm takes hold.
Hearts thrum and tremble, / the dancers itch to begin. / The stage is waiting.
Creatures of motion / only live in transition. / Stillness in the storm.
We hedge-torn, hedge-born - / What mockeries They dream up / in Arcadia.
(Thus concludes our interlude)
Tell me your troubles:
that silver thread I require
to weave and inspire.
-
I see the sea in the sky:
It's waves entrance and form the dance
of people living to die.
I drowned below the undertow,
and danced along inside.
The faces there could hardly care,
and now within me reside.
-
♪♫♬
Don't deal with a Fae if you want a say
because dealing takes it's toll.
At least with the Devil you know for sure
he only wants your Soul.
Take care, my friend, when the Folk are Fair
for the deals they strike are True.
You'll get much more than you bargained for
if you don't see your half through.
(Old Gaelic Chorus)
Beware the terms and the unsaid words
that bind you to the Sidhe.
Because once it's struck, you're out of luck.
They won't ever let you be.
They've all got plans you won't understand
whether merrow, elf, or troll.
So don't deal with a Fae if you want a say
because dealing takes it's toll.
(Old Gaelic Chorus)
So don't deal with a Fae if you want a say
because dealing takes it's toll.
Because dealing takes it's toll.
Because dealing takes it's toll.
♪♫♬
-
I catch the valley
before Dawn burns mist away,
and feel like I'm home.
Frosted Fortress Fair.
Looming under snow-filled skies,
Stalwart under siege.
Watchful Sentinel,
one with sky and sea: I fire.
A perfect moment.
The endless river -
a dream-dappled silhouette,
whiling time away.
A Birthright Reclaimed;
The crown about my shoulders
urges me to Speak.
Dream a Little Dream,
worlds apart from where we start.
Free to Love and Fear.
Angels in disguise,
with Blades of Heart and of Mind.
Battle on all fronts.
-
The Hearth-Tree glows beneath the snow,
from sunkissed days and moonlit Knights.
Her thoughts bend now on seeds to sow,
Her soft boughs drift and sway alight.
But in that dance of bark and leaf,
She holds most dearly onto grief;
that in Her core she knows the truth:
Her roots grow deep, but not with youth.
She grips the world in coiled pain,
for how She came to bear the blame.
A forest - once - She grew within,
but now feeds off her long-Lost kin.
Her strength unmatched, alone in soil
birthed in flame and vicious toil.
The scars are hidden, tucked away -
a Hollow where Her Heart would lay.
But in that place where nothing grew,
She felt a stirring out of view.
A Den of creatures, safe and warm,
protected from the Winter storm.
And so She cared for them with mirth,
a Bastion in the Sacred Earth.
Her creaks for them: a Lullaby;
She Sang within, and to the Sky.
-
‘Who am I?’ is a question I have asked myself on many occasions. But I have come to accept that names have power. And why not? They give us a sense of meaning and understanding the unknown. Names anchor us in this world and others.
So who am I? Why be just one thing when I can be many things to many people? Why tie myself to one mooring when the ports are plenty?
I am the Wisp of Aldo Whitaker, The Solemn Man, The Watcher on the Water, The Drowned Phoenix, Dreamer in the Deep, Scion of the Mists, Voice of the Reverie, Confidant and Dreamchild of the Opal Lady, Bearer of the Remnant Crown, Inquisitor of The Old Way, The Iron Rain, Watchmaster of the Ephemeral Gates, and Arbiter of the Collective Subconscious. Member of the Song of Six-Pence, of the Freehold of the Mistburnt Veil. To many, I am Just Solomon.
I trod, Defender,
once upon a December,
dim as an ember.
-
'What's a Gentry?' they asked.
I told them, but they didn't understand.
'What's a Gentry?' they asked again.
So I showed them, and they laughed with the horror of it.
Screamed with the guilt of it. Mourned at the joy of it.
They beat at their chests, pulled at their hair, tore at their clothes.
When reason returned to them, they could not remember.
And so they asked again: 'What's a Gentry?'
I showed them a glass sphere, and they asked, 'Is that a Gentry?'
"No, this is glass."
I showed them a hammer, and they asked, 'Is that a Gentry?'
"No, this is a hammer."
That infuriating question, once more: Then what's a Gentry?
I hefted the hammer and smashed the glass.
One of them gasped in false enlightenment, "So that's a Gentry!"
"No. I just smashed the glass with a hammer."
Confusion, a murmur of emotions, and curiosity unsatisfied.
I shrugged and began picking up the glass shards.
'But then what's a Gentry?!' they cried out.
"Open your palms," I instructed.
I pressed a shard in each and closed their hands around them.
Blood pooled.
Eyes lit up in pain and understanding.
"This! This is a Gentry," they proclaimed.
I collected their blood in vials. Stoppered them and smiled at fists clenched for me.
They all relaxed. 'Finally' they thought, 'We understand.'
Then I walked away with vials of their blood, freely given.
I waved as I left, my teeth a rictus. One called out, "Wait, what do you need our blood for?"
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched them grow less certain.
I laughed. Tinkling laughter like glass shards, the fear hit them like a hammer.
That sinking feeling of being used. Of experiencing the Unknown.
That lingering pain.
Some remained where they were. Others fled. A few gave chase.
But they had lost me. And Lost a piece of themselves.
They began to Understand.
Thus ends the Lesson on Gentry.
-
Voyagers, set sail!
Plumb the Nightmare Depths for wealth.
Make them Understand.
---
((Not written by David but too perfect not to include))
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PWUlf6qB2RI
Pulled from my home inside a cloud
Lost to the dark I drift alone
Now I’ve returned beyond the shroud
Ever to reign upon my throne
Here in my Crystal Kingdom.
I saw beyond the universe
Far past the places we should see
But for my vision I was cursed
Torn from my home and family
Lost to my crystal kingdom.
Saved from the darkness by my child
Locked in a cage of glass and steel
But my true love remains exiled
beckoning me to break the seal
into this crystal kingdom.
Kept from our children, lovers, friends;
Subject to laws we did not make.
This is where separation ends
and souls of Lost will come awake;
enter my crystal kingdom.
---
Perched within striking,
the crimson claw holds purchase;
preening for her past.
'Drip, Drip' goes the well.
Slake your thirst or feel the curse -
Twice-remembered Hell.
Red ash on my tongue,
the blades of grass outrun me...
but not my quiver.
Secrets on her lips
promise of Star-crossed Lovers.
Silence in her eyes.
Story time in Kel,
an opportune Maelstrom bides,
back from whence I came.
With the barest touch,
I seek out Enlightenment
or Oblivion.
The puzzle-box turns
and with it, Entitled Rage.
Burning and yearning.
A mid-Winter's Dream.
A Pauper's last, Red, request:
Ranlight Fearchaser.
===
In travels far and wide-
through tangled depth and mire-
I walk with purpose in my stride
and with a Heart of Fire.
My past, a fluid shade
both burden and desire:
to snuff the Light and fade.
To quench my Heart of Fire.
I face the Dusky Path
and gaze into the pyre
of lives and lies of wrath
upon my Heart of Fire.
No longer will I play the pawn
nor be controlled through ire.
I move from Dusk and toward the Dawn
to claim my Heart of Fire.
===
Our worlds intertwine,
reveling in the New Year
with Radiant pride.
He who holds the key
that turns the fulcrum of worlds
also wields the Thorn.
The Autumn Leaves Fall,
drifting flight more beautiful
than a year's blossoms.
===
Leaves from the Vine (From Avatar)
Leaves from the vine
Falling so slow
Like fragile tiny shells
Drifting in the foam
Little soldier boy
Come marching home
Brave soldier boy
Comes marching home
Those leaves did grow
From branches overgrown
Drifting slowly down
Resting on the loam
Little soldier boy
Taken from home
Forced to fight a war
That's not his own
Leaves from the vine
Falling so slow
Like fragile tiny shells
Drifting in the foam
Little soldier boy says
"Carry me home"
Sleeping soldier boy
Is carried home
===
Thoughts ripple outward,
flowing near a sunset shore,
eventually.
Like Evening bells,
let's all let ourselves Echo,
Again and Again.
Movement in Stillness.
The harder lesson to learn:
Stillness in Movement.
Not all marks leave scars.
Before we all become One,
leave yours on the World.
The road rises up,
opportunity abounds.
Each mile a marker.
Fair warning for friends:
Ware the Court out of Season,
Ascendant in Strife.
Ashborn feathers fall,
a black mark on the record.
Apocryphal source.
Razor's Edge balance,
Bell chimes and pond ripples forth.
Folded paper-thin.
Dammit Florida!
Why are your goblin monkeys
f@#king highwaymen?!!
In Magic City,
fear of association
reaches ~GOLDEN HEIGHTS~
We are one people,
United in our trauma.
Divided by Them.
Another bargain?
Faust would say we lack vision.
Souls are worth far more.
In false Miami,
where we play our crimson scheme-
breaks new mutiny.
Ruby of Newness.
Carrion, my wayward friend:
Summer to the Core.
Ruby’s dead, moved on.
But here I am: Fragile. Still.
A vial of ash.
My Soul Whispers on,
"What kind of man will you be?"
A Just, Solemn Man.
Loud as they Thundered,
lightning passed and storm cloud broke,
their power sundered.
A Spring in my step,
my heart a leaden anchor.
Guide my Path, Huntsman.
In the Great Chorus,
each Song heralds a promise,
each voice a moment.
===
Ruby,
Ride fast, strike true.
We'll join you when we can.
===
Consequences dire,
when you wish upon a star.
Wish instead on You.
Primordial Dream,
where sleeping and waking blur.
What lost lurks beyond?
Whisked away by train,
we play a dangerous game -
running out the clock.
In Gentrified Halls,
we play our last-stand, last hand,
and bet on the House.
Well met, Perdition.
Whether wrath, desire, or dread,
all Ammunition.
Ink, Labyrinthine.
Fog Light, Impenetrable.
Knowledge, Forbidden.
Solar chariot
Climbing from His last death throes,
Riding on His wake.
A journey’s respite -
No matter how far we roam,
There’s no place like home.
Leave the prize behind,
and the cracks begin to show
a mourning Freehold.
Pick up the pieces,
and carry an umbrella.
Raindrops keep fallin'.
Half-life Brethren: Rise.
Take your place at our table;
share your newfound song.
The damned stand ready,
rallied on the Path of Fear.
A Lost Legion, found.
You wield Memory,
A burden we will carry
for all who are Lost.
Into the Matrix,
A weave of masques and stories.
A nexus of lies.
The life of a spook,
where We go bump in the night.
What could be better?
The current draws near.
Her grasping harbinger gaze,
a riptide warning.
I jimmy the door.
Cat's eyes greet me, uncaring.
Mine train up the stairs.
Pastor Donnaman,
Who bears the stray flock cursed fruit?
The apple fell far.
The thrill of the chase,
footsteps and bullets fly free.
Disturbing Glory.
Trivial Pursuit
made less so by Beauty's King.
We hunt for answers.
The drowned boy taunts us.
His birds shit on our Kingdom.
The war marches on.
Another Flame-wrought,
Flickering shadows dance near.
Here on the Great Stage.
Oh, Forbidden Lore!
What small glories Research brings.
What great consequence.
Lucent, our City -
A dark place with bright shadows,
Blinding our Fairest.
As in all our games,
Wyrd is worth it's weight in gold.
So don't lose your head.
Gunshots on all sides,
I drag rivals to safety,
a Humane treatment.
An umbral puppet
echoes near but out of reach.
the false fetch returns.
Trigger-man scholar..
In this Valley of Plenty,
a House, Divided.
A bawdy screening,
to unify the Freehold –
and scrounge Good Graces.
Duncan cashes in.
As Winter snows blur the tracks,
we cover them up.
Words at Dawn, she said.
I witness as They trade blows,
abyssal anchors.
Lantern light swirling,
Musings immaterial
galvanize my faith.
A new Watch Begins.
Bear witness to the burden,
Legacy of Pain.
Be wary Legate.
Negotiate with Devils,
Two days peace hard-won.
A sad solution:
Memento Mori Motley,
Dusky Winter Core.
Jay Self counted Hours,
the Legion counts its dream-debt.
A pearl for a soul.
Ted Talks of Fishers.
Those parasitic gossips,
spies ephemeral.
Here in the Market
Abtanis lies so sweetly,
spinning truths and chains.
Tailored tidings come,
a taunt to the Green-Eyed Man.
A shame to His name.
Calefacient talks,
The terms begin and stakes raise,
perhaps – instead – razed.
---
As battle blazed and clamour rang,
I took a different view.
While motley mate took flight and Sang -
A stillborn, born anew.
A chorus for the grieving Lost,
and for a war now won.
The perfect moment and its cost:
our sacrifice undone.
With fresh eyes did I see the world
and enemies abound.
A long-rejected truth unfurled
and closed in all around.
And so I took the Dreaming Path,
all other exits fraught.
I tunneled through his dying breath,
a marksman overwrought.
The family ties that bound me there,
held tightly for a time.
But Hours passed and foul fare
bore witness to the crime.
The Gentry flock, a vulture swarm
communal, baited breath.
The quiver’s last and final form,
A Perfect, Golden Death.
---