Free bird Poetry – Word Smith Wisdom

The Golden Age Of Magic (Chapter 3)

The battles between the Warlocks and Wizards became more intense.
Sometimes things were happening so fast, it didn’t make any sense.
One side would make headway for awhile.
Then the other side was no longer beguiled.
Aladon did not give up in his search for new magic.
Despite the fact that he knew the results would be tragic.
An acolyte came to him with news.
One of the Warlocks has lighted a powerful fuse.
His new magic will blow your mind.
Aladon said: “Get him in here double time.”
A Warlock called Zargon entered the room.
“I have made alterations that affect the womb.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I can create an amalgamation of creatures.”
Aladon said: “I can’t quite picture what that features?”
“Monsters from the Id. Creations from my mind.”
“Using magic I can make the best fighters of our time.”
“Imagine a flying tiger. I call it a dragon.”
“A fighting crocodile bear. I ain’t bragging.”
“Holy crap!! That’s hard to imagine.”
“There is more, you won’t have to imagine.”
Zargon grabbed his hand and zapped them there.
Locked in magical pens, which was their lair.
All kinds of amalgamations. Quite scary to see.
They could be trained to attack when free.
“Can you create something totally unknown?”
“Something that can do all it is shown?”
“I probably can,—- with a little time.”
“Take all you want. That will be fine.”
Aladon laid out just what he wanted.
Zargon whistled. That is a tall order you wanted.”
“I will begin to work right away, oh great one.”
“Good, good. I think this will be great fun.”
With that, Aladon gave a crafty chuckle.
Then, he zapped back to Vikary, flexing his muscles.
What exactly does Aladon have planned?
Whatever it is, it is sure to be grand.
The Wizards had better be prepared.
Or else, they will soon be running scared.——–R.W. Johnson—–(2019)

The Golden Age Of Magic (Chapter 2)

Aladon spent most of his time in his secret library.
It was behind his throne in castle Vikary.
The name he specifically chose for his castle.
He was always working on new magic, with no hassle.
He tried new spells and potions.
He wasn’t just going through the motions.
Working alone is when he got the most done.
One Warlock stood above the rest. He was the one.
One day, he was looking at a new scroll.
It seemed different than others he had taken in toll.
After some time, he realized it was a map.
It was marked with power grids. What was that?
After much more research, he figured it out.
This knowledge would help, without a doubt.
He could zap somewhere without traveling there first.
He would be within a mile of his goal, at the worst.
The map showed the location of the Tangura capitol.
He decided he would zap there at his will.
He made the jump and found only ruins.
But, he also felt a feeling that would be his ruin.
The magic was off. It should be a constant.
He was barely able to zap away, before he found death.
The rumors were true.
Tangura was taboo.
He doubted anything remained there to find.
He might try again some other time.
But, for now, his new knowledge will help
In future battles with the Wizards, he felt.
There were the legends about the Watchers.
Were they true? He doubted it. Botchers
are more like it. They ‘botched’ their civilization.
They probably ended in self cremation.
Enough time wasted on that.
He had to plan his next attack.
In the meantime, the Wizards weren’t idol.
They were planning a big revival.
Bringing all Wizards from everywhere together.
To fight the evil Warlocks by controlling weather.
They planned on bringing tremendous forces.
Mother nature at her best, with their resources.
Lightening, hail, blizzards, floods, freezes.
All directed at Warlocks, as quick as sneezes.
Aladon had learned to strengthen their shields.
It would be needed when all is revealed.
A large field was set for a meeting place.
Aladon planned to slaughter them in every case.
His first act of violence brought instant results.
Mother nature took revenge with snowball belts.
Aladon’s shield snapped into place.
It was instantly covered with ice, incased.
Aladon cussed and cast Warlock fire, in haste.
It thawed the ice. Kept them warm in place.
They were protected under the shield.
All weather forces could not make it yield.
Aladon zapped all back to the castle.
He was pissed. No one dared to hassle.
He cussed and paced and threw stuff around.
He would stomp those Wizards into the ground.
Try as he could, he could not locate their home base.
His castle was shielded, just in case.
It was protected and impossible to see.
That was the way he wanted it to be.
He started making serious plans.
He would recruit all the potential Warlocks in the land.
He would train them around the clock
if they showed any potential, latent, or not.
Within a year, he had a tremendous army of Warlocks.
If they suspected Wizards, all were wiped out on the spot.
They were raising hell with all the common people.
Basically, making them slaves and killing the feeble.
None of this set well with the Wizards way of life.
They trained for war, both man and wife.
What was to come would not be pretty.
But, don’t miss it. It would be a pity.

—————————————————R.W. Johnson—–(2019)

The Golden Age Of Magic (Chapter 1)

Early, early in the recorded history of man
a discovery was made. It wasn’t sand.
Ancient books and scrolls were found.
They predated man. Few were around.
These objects were magical in nature.
Early man didn’t understand their fate here.
They kept all that were found as relics.
Religious minded men called Celtics
attempted to translate the articles.
Many, many years later smarter soles
were able to break the code.
Magic was discovered in written mode.
Magic spells and magical history.
Even so, most of it was mystery.
Relics from Tangura, a mystical land.
It existed way before the time of man.
The search was on to find much more.
Unfortunately, most of it was just lore.
Scholars soon became known as Warlocks.
Those who used it for good were Wizards.
Certain families became quite skilled.
Over the centuries, many were killed.
Three camps existed. The common people,
the Warlocks, and the Wizards. It seemed so.
Then, came a powerful Warlock, Aladon.
He quickly dominated the scene he came upon.
Soon, he commanded all Warlocks with ease.
He could dominate all magical acts to please.
He created a tremendous castle for all.
Every Warlock bowed the knee at his call.
Some tried to fight him & were obliterated.
Worlock fire soon had them incinerated.
Soon, he was worshiped as a powerful god.
He was at odds with Wizards, which was not odd.
Anathea was the leader of the Wizards then.
They had a hidden ‘home’ they lived within.
They believed in the one Creator God.
Their magic was for the good of all, not odd.
So began the Golden Age Of Magic.
A time when magic ruled, which was tragic.
Aladon was determined to snuff out the Wizards.
He wanted to feast on each of their gizzards.
Both groups used positive magic back then.
Negative magic was known, but not used to win.
They believed negative magic destroyed Tangura.
It was avoided like a curse—- not a ‘cure ya.’
First, there were only minor skirmishes to occur.
Each side took a hurting, that’s for sure.
Then, Aladon became much more organized.
He really kicked some butt, when the occasion arrived
Much more happened, as we will see.
At a later date, so don’t decide to flee.

————————————————–R.W. Johnson—–(2019)

The Golden Age Of Magic (Prequel)

The Golden Age Of Magic

Way, way back in a time of antiquity.
Way before humans were dominate, you see.
In a land often referred to as Tangura.
Little is known that humans can be sure of.
It was a time predating recorded history.
Mostly rumors, and mostly a mystery.
Some even referred to it as Atlantis.
Though, not proven, it was only a guess.
What is known is the beings were giants.
Magic was dominate. There was no alliance.
Their civilization was destroyed by magic.
Feuding factors or a mistake that was tragic.
A few books on magic survived.
Also, The Watchers,—- if alive.
They are said to be surviving beings from that age.
Do they exist? Or just another rumor page?
They have been called Nephalin, or aliens.
Fallen angels, or giants, without saying.
Many, many rumors with no proof of anything.
Just a few books & scrolls, the remaining things.
Man eventually comes on the scene.
He learns about magic, it seems.
The Golden Ago Of Magic is born.
The greatest warlocks & wizards now adorn.
What they do and the impending results
will be told here as well as felt.
So, wait for the next installment.
Learn about The Golden Age Of Magic, & what it all meant.

——————————————————-R.W. Johnson—–(2019)

A Lonely Man

He was just a lonely man.
Middle aged, with a tan.
A nice head of hair.
Slightly graying, but there.
Every day, he sat on a park bench.
Fed the squirrels and the finch.
He never bothered anyone.
He wasn’t into having fun.
No family, no one close.
Nothing for which he could boast.

He was just a lonely man.
He listened to jazz, when he can.
He went through life with little care.
Not concerned about what to wear.
Didn’t have a girlfriend or a wench.
He liked sports though. That’s a cinch.
He liked when the dusk would come.
The stars would appear, one by one.
His favorite food was rump roast.
It was the gravy he liked the most.

He was just a lonely man.
He watched some kids kicking a can.
He often thought it would be nice to share.
But, it didn’t happen. No one was there.
He was fairly handy with a wrench.
Concerning politics, he didn’t budge an inch.
To stay In shape, he liked to run.
Not with others. That, he would shun.
One day he took off for the coast.
A small vacation, he would host.

He was just a lonely man.

———————————R.W. Johnson—–(2019)

Did He Rise Again?

A crimson rose was growing on the grave.
What did it symbolize? I was afraid.
Next day, a coal black rose joined it.
I felt dread in my stomach like a pit.
Friends said “Who is buried there?”
“There is no grave marker anywhere?”
I didn’t have a clue about this.
“Ask the graveyard keeper with the lisp”
I asked him and his face grew pale.
“Don’t ask about that one.” He said with a wail.
“Why not?—- Please tell me more.”
He looked like he wanted to run out the door.
“That is the grave of a known grave robber.”
“He lived in the scary house up on Hobbler.”
“It is said he was creating a monster.”
“Like Dr. Frankenstein. It caused a stir.”
“From the body parts of the recently buried.”
“It was a gory time. And pretty hairy.”
“Some say his monster killed him.”
“Others say the monster is buried within.”
“You know how the rumors grow.”
“It all happened some time ago.”
“Who planted those roses on the grave?”
“What roses? Oh no!! Run, he is leaving his grave!!”
With that, the grounds keeper took off like a bat.
He didn’t even take the time to get his hat.
“What the hell?” we all said.
That night, we were afraid to go to bed.
The next day, there was nothing there.
No roses, dirt somewhat disturbed, but bare.”
We watched the papers for any news.
Nothing came of it. Pick and choose.
Just urban legends at their best.
It was the holiday of when he was laid to rest.

——————————————R.W. Johnson—–(2019)

Magic And Early Man

Many, many eons ago in the fantasy land of Tangura.
A very wise man went into a deep trance.
When he awoke, he shouted ‘Congura.”
It meant he had found out something in his trance.
He had discovered magic. But, how to tap into it?
He went to work immediately on the problem.
Soon, he had devised a simple spell that seemed fit.
He mumbled some words that didn’t solve them.
He needed a focus. So used an ash branch.
Straight, about two feet long, tapered on the end.
He pointed and mumbled. Light shot out of the branch.
He burned a hole in the wall. In came the wind.
He knew he was onto something then.
A year, or so later, he had composed a book.
Magic spells, potions, and other gems.
He called himself a wizard to those who looked.
Soon, he had an assistant, an acolyte.
They would stir up big boiling pots of herbs, etc.
Sprinkle in the right potions to make it right.
Drink it and cure warts, fever, and an itch.
Soon, the acolyte had had enough of this.
In secret, he whipped up a brew of his own.
He drank it and brought on a real twist.
It affected him right down to the bone.
He called himself a warlock, and so it went.
The battle between good and evil was on.
Soon, there were others. They had the scent.
Cults were formed. Soon, a war was brought on.
Through the ages, the battle has raged.
Good verses evil. Until this very day.
Magic is no longer used, but they are engaged.
The good verses evil game is still played.
Everything starts somewhere. Till it ends.

————————————————R.W. Johnson—–(2019)

“Mountain Mania”

Mountain Mania

Way back in the hills of Tennessee
Something was brewing and it wasn’t tea.
Uncle John was at it again.
But, he wasn’t making bathtub gin.
He had his still fired up to the max.
You could buy this booze and not pay tax.
It was some potent mountain brew.
Burn your hairs and moustache too.
Some teenage kids had an idea.
Instead of: “I caught ya. Wouldn’t want to be ya.”
They decided to pull a psilocybin trick.
Some ‘magic mushrooms’, blended thick.
They added the mix to the still.
That should give em all a thrill.
Uncle John didn’t have a clue.
He sold all his jugs of the special brew.
Customers were seeing pixies dancing on the lawn.
Pink elephants flying around till dawn.
Bizarre colors and shooting stars.
Some were seeing men from Mars.
The teenagers were laughing their asses off.
Till someone shot at them from a loft.
Uncle John had to shut down his still.
He decided to make out his will.
Things were quite tense for quite some time.
It was said: “That was some damn good moonshine.”
Uncle John didn’t think he could do it again.
He didn’t know how to even begin.
Finally, the teenagers told him what they did.
Uncle John was mad & almost flipped his lid.
Then, he realized there was money in it.
He hired the teenagers and brewed more shit.
They called it. “Mountain Mania.”
One drink and you are insane. Ya!!
By the time the revenuers caught on.
Uncle John and kids were long gone.

——————————————-R.W. Johnson—–(2019)

The Dark Is Coming

I feel the dark is on its way.
I’m not talking about night & day.
I am talking about something much deeper.
It’s getting darker. Things are bleaker.
Let’s use Star Wars as a guide.
Turn to the ‘dark side’ for a ride.
Turn away to really be free.
But, this may be too late to see.
The common now is a shade of gray.
Which is getting darker by the day.
Game Of Thrones says; “Winter is coming.”
The darkness is much more worth shunning.
Don’t let the darkness fill your heart.
Your world, known now, will be torn apart.
You can’t run to the sea. The sea will be a boiling.
You cannot hide. The viper is uncoiling.
Don’t look to the sky. The sky will be a falling.
Trapped in the dark, your name he’ll be a calling.
This will be hell on earth.
Avoid at all costs, for what it’s worth.

—————————————-R.W. Johnson—–(2019)

Fading Memories

The time has gone. Its faded away.
Just a memory of another day.
The further it slips into the past.
The more I wish that it could last.
But, now, it is only a memory.
A hitch in time no one can see.
No one but me can understand.
The fading footprints in the sand.
What goes around comes around again.
I am waiting, but there is only wind.
Wind that blows without end.
Covering the footprints and memory.
Destroying all that’s left of you and me.
In time, all will be gone.
Though the feelings linger on.
When I die I will be free.
Maybe,—- to return to you and me.

————————-R.W. Johnson—–(2019)