Taxomony of Dannan sylvanus: Sylvan Elves, a/k/a Tuatha de Dannan (Dannan sylvanus)

Full D. sylvanus taxonomy is as follows:
Species: sylvanus
Genus: Dannan
Family: Faeidae
Infraorder: Catarrhini
Order: Primates.

Genetically, Dannan sylvanus is 99.8% similar to Homo sapiens.

Appearance:
D. sylvanus tend to be shorter than H. sapiens. While individual D. sylvanus specimens have been found reaching as much as 1.9 meters in height, adult D. sylvanus tend to range from 1.4 to 1.7 meters (males and females show no significant size differential). It is believed that this is an adaptation to the dense forests native for D. sylvanus. D. sylvanus who do have not been raised in forested areas for long periods of time tend to grow taller then woodland D. sylvanus.

D. sylvanus bodies are more slender then H. sapiens and they generally weigh less than H. sapiens norm for their height. However their muscles are still strong and they are not fragile as they seem. D. sylvanus possess light body hair, less than is present in H. sapiens..

D. sylvanus generally possess narrow faces with slightly pointed ears and almond-shaped eyes with colour ranging from grey and silver through blue and green to violet. Brown eyes can be found but are rare (approx. 3%).

Hair changes according to environmental conditions. While blond and golden tend to be common, some specimens are completely black- haired. Superattenuated D. sylvanus have white hair. Reports of blue hair and greenish are unconfirmed, and may relate to other members of Family Faeidae.

Senses:
D. sylvanus ears have a different hearing range from H. sapiens. While H. sapiens adults perceive sounds from 400 to 20,000 hertz , D. sylvanus perceive sounds from 1000 to 30,000 hertz.

D. sylvanus possess excellent eyesight especially at long ranges. They have, however, a more limited perception of colour, with a spectrum beginning in the green-blue range and running through blue and violet into the ultraviolet. Reports of vision into the infrared spectrum are patently false.

Smell and taste are roughly on par with H. sapiens, though what D. sylvanus and H. sapiens like to taste and smell is not always the same.

Food:
The D. sylvanus diet is composed on less complex carbohydrates then H. sapiens and more protein from meat. This is believed to be an adaptation to life in the forest, where small game is plentiful but conditions are not conducive to farming. D. sylvanus do consume a fair amount of simple sugars from sugar-cane berries and fruit , as well as select roots, mushrooms and tree bark. D. sylvanus cook meat (contrary to legend), usually roasting it over an open fire, although not to the degree usually preferred by H. sapiens..

Active/Sleep Cycle:
The D. sylvanus biological clock works differently from that of H. sapiens one in many aspects. The active hours of D. sylvanus are different. D. sylvanus are not strictly nocturnal but their most active hours are from the afternoon to midnight. D. sylvanus prefer to begin sleep at roughly two hours before sunrise and to wake at noon. However, D. sylvanus have shown adaptability to various sleep cycles, and can adapt to a diurnal sleep cycle with no ill effect.

Life cycle:
D. sylvanus have extremely long life spans relative to H. sapiens. However, this does not mean their cycle of life is the same as H. sapiens. D. sylvanus mature slightly slower than H. sapiens and when they mature they stay that way for a very long time before they age. Elderly D. sylvanus do not suffer for the same aliments that plague elderly H. sapiens but just the different aliments they gathered through their long lives. D. sylvanus do not develop wrinkles on their skin nor do their bodies become fragile or weak.

Mating:
D. sylvanus usually develop a romantic interest in their fellows during their young adult years. D. sylvanus form strong bonds with mates, but this does not always lead to marriage. D. sylvanus are nominally monogamous, but do rarely have more than one sexual relationship at one time. D. sylvanus have learned about the formal marriage custom from H. sapiens. However, D. sylvanus couples are known to fall in love, live together raise offspring and then separate, living single lives again; marriage is optional.D. sylvanus physically perform intercourse in the same manner as H. sapiens, but treat it in a different way. D. sylvanus enjoy sex less then H. sapiens. D. sylvanus are not “slaves to their passions” and many individuals go through life without sex. D. sylvanus treat blind sexual passion as animalistic (in some researchers’ opinions, this is the most prominent difference between H. sapiens and D. sylvanus).

D. sylvanus do not have a cultural taboo regarding nudity, but sexual relations of any kind are always done in privacy.

D. sylvanus sometimes mate with partners of the same gender. D. sylvanus do not see any abnormality in this, and do not understand how can one be solely attracted to either the same or opposite gender.

Reproductivity:
This is the most puzzling aspect of D. sylvanus biology. D. sylvanus do not remain fertile throughout adulthood; rather, they maintain fertility for only a relatively short (50-year) period of young adulthood. In an evolutionary sense, D. sylvanus’ rate of reproduction is much too low to allow the continuation of the species; much speculation remains regarding how D. sylvanus has continued as a species to date. Previous theories regarding interbreeding with H. sapiens in order to maintain higher breeding rates have proven incorrect; the two species are not reproductively viable, despite their similarity in appearance.

 

 

How to Quit an Email List

It’s rather simple, actually. When the Crone is coming to fruition in the waning dark of the Moon, you must create a black waxen image of your computer with wick for lighting, or black candle if you’re not artistic. Upon it with your Burin, which can be found at various stores throughout the Internet, inscribe these words, “I desire to leave this list list”, along with the Tattwa for the Element of Fire, representing freedom, change and destruction , the Elder Futhark rune of Thurisaz, representing freedom in movement, the masculine in action and destruction of obstacles, and the Ogham symbol for Birch, representing new beginnings, purification and changes. You’ll need a banishing incense of your choice and two lodestones. Cast circle, yadda, yadda, yadda, dress waxen computer image or candle and place on pentacle, light.

Repeat the following Irish prayer three times while holding a lodestone in each extended hand, one to attract that which you desire and one to repel that which you do not:

Brighid, gold-red woman,
Brighid, flame and honeycomb,
Brighid, sun of womanhood,
Brighid, lead me home.
You are a branch in blossom,
You are a sheltering dome.
You are my bright precious freedom,
Brighid, lead me home.

All the while visualizing your E-mail box empty and free of further E-mails from the offending list. When your feel your power reach it’s peak, quickly drop the lodestones, point all ten “fingers” at the image or candle and direct all energy through your fingers and into the image, crying So Mote It Be! in a firm and powerful voice.

Let the image or candle burn until spent. Flush any remaining wax down the toilet. If you’ve done everything correctly, this *should* work.

However, if it does not you could try following the directions given on the site which hosts the list. They probably are something mundane like:

To be removed from this list send a blank message to: unsubscribe@thislist.com

You could be Elven if…

[Written by Tiernan and Robin. Taken from the TNO archives, Issue #1, October 1995. ]

  1. Are people spooked when you walked up behind them and they never heard you coming?
  2. You are always the first one to hear something in the distance (ie: aproaching car, person, storm…)
  3. You can smell a troll for miles and miles and miles…
  4. You couldn’t care less about gun control as long as they don’t outlaw bows.
  5. You think “Lord what fools these mortals be” should be in Bartletts Quotes.
  6. You are frequently offered ‘Santa’s Helper’ jobs at Christmas without an interview.
  7. Your best friends are nymphs, pixies, and fairies.
  8. You think trees are a great place to live, and holes in the ground are for worms and hobbits.
  9. Your friends cat, who hates EVERYONE including your friend, loves you.
  10. You HATE ear jokes
  11. You catch yourself referring to David Bowie as ‘cousin’
  12. The only iron you care to work with is the one that takes the wrinkles out of your clothes.
  13. You can smell what kind of mood the people around you are in.
  14. You HATE plastic.
  15. You LOVE mushrooms.
  16. You can be spun around at night with a blindfold on and you stop spinning pointing to true North every time.
  17. You find yourself arguing that Vulcans and Romulans are your long lost cousins with a Trek fan.
  18. Almost no-one understands your sense of humor
  19. Trolls stress you out.
  20. You have pet dragons.
  21. You would rather listen to bird songs than the radio.
  22. You can sleep on the floor, ground or a wood waterbed, but not a metal frame bed.
  23. Orcs are the cousins you don’t talk about.
  24. You have a fascination with edged weapons.
  25. Most of your clothing has ties and laces instead of buttons and zippers.

New Age vs Otherkin Community

Back in the very late 70’s and very early 80’s, when I was first getting into the New Age thing, it seemed to me at least with regard to the people I came in contact with that the spiritualist/new age movement was about working toward enlightenment. Methods for doing that inner work became very popular, such as TM, yoga, Zen… at least in S. Cal where I grew up (and lived most of my life). The focus seemed to me to be very much on the fact that you had to find your own inner way, that there were tools to help you do that but they were intended to be just that: tools, not crutches.

Along about the mid-80’s the whole new age thing began to really catch on out there in a major way, and all of a sudden there was an influx of these new ideas supposedly being represented by “channeled information”. Suddenly it seemed like everywhere you looked, someone was channeling the 4 or 8 or ten thousand year old spirit of someone else from Egypt/Atlantis/Lemuria with information that was supposed to make us all better in one rather expensive weekend. Or on a smaller scale all you had to do was look in the back of your local new age magazine or newsletter and there were hundreds of “psychic astrologers” or “psychic channelers” or what have you with All The Answers, for a fee ranging anywhere from very nominal to outrageously exorbitant. Among these there were a few who had good information, and the vast majority were in it for either the money or the ego trip of being viewed as an Ascended Master of some sort. (I’m thinking of people like JZ Knight or Lazarus, etc, who IMO are colossal charlatans).

The main problem with most of what was being offered was that it dangled the promise of achieving in a short period of time the level of wisdom, enlightenment and self-understanding that the more traditional paths told you would take years of work. (Yasssss, people, can you say Ashtar Command and ye are HEEEEEaled I say, I place my hand upon your forehead and say the magic name of Ashtar and you are HEEEEEaled….). The problem was that some paths don’t have shortcuts because the journey is the point. Cut out the journey, and you’ve cut out the reason for walking the path in the first place. But in this age of drive-thru and disposable and instant everything, anyone who offers you (generic you) the Answer To It All in a matter of days with no commitment of time and effort on your part is going to attract a certain amount of yous who want the result without doing any of the work. People like that are *always* going to have adherents, many of whom will absolutely swear by them at first.

What happens when you find out that your problems are still there, your life still sucks, you still get depressed and you still have no idea who and what you truly are inside, underneath all the layers and labels, and you find you have learned nothing to help you cope? Most folks end up searching for the next instant-enlightenment gimmick and never end up doing any of the work to discover their own internal framework. Disillusioned and angry, they turned away from what they had once embraced in droves and the new age community obtained a very bad name that some of it’s adherents don’t deserve. I now see “fluff bunny new age” being used as an insult, because when most people think of “new age” they think of “white light dingalings” drifting around offering fluffy and unrealistic solutions that people no longer believe in.

It didn’t work for Christianity in 1890, it didn’t work for psychology in 1920, it didn’t work for Buddhism in 1985. Why do people think it’s going to work for Otherkin in 2001?

This has a lot to do with why I’m so bitchy about the “spoonfeeding” and why I see it as pointless at best and dangerous at worst. What is going to happen to people who’ve fallen into the whole coddle-the-newbie trip when the coddler gets bored with the game, and hasn’t helped anyone do the real work of developing their own inner framework? It’s very easy to criticize me for my own critical comments about the spoonfeeders, but perhaps placed into this overall context you can at least understand my concern. I didn’t *have* anyone to coddle me when I Awakened, I was alone out there. But I worked my ass off to Become.

Later, I found the Silver Elves and they gave me support and friendship by showing me that I wasn’t alone and that what I felt and experienced wasn’t weird for who and what I was… but they didn’t tell me how to walk my walk and they didn’t tell me what the things I was thinking and feeling meant. They continued to encourage me to do my own exploring and understand who I was in my own unique way. That’s what newbies need, just not to feel like they’re alone and to be encouraged to find their own Song. That’s all they need, and if we really give a rat’s ass about their own journeys rather than feeding our egos at their expense, that’s all we’ll realistically offer. We can’t GIVE them answers because our answers may not be the right ones for them. We can tell them where *we* looked… I found many of my own answers among the philosophies of Zen … but we can’t tell them that they’ll find their answers in the same places we found ours because everybody got to march to their own drum. I strongly believe the only thing we should be doing is letting people know we understand and giving them a place to air out their own thoughts and get some intelligent feedback and good, solid critical but kind questioning to give them some objective perspective… and the occasional kick in the ass when they need it. There’s tons of websites out there, let people find their own truths among what’s presented there. We aren’t human, but we cannot discount the human philosophies as useless for our own journeys because some of the experiences humanity has are universal. There are fewer resources for kin than there are for humans, but who says kin cannot benefit from human experiences? The only way people will know what Sings to them is to just start reading and searching and looking. Telling them what will and won’t sing to them is something the coddlers are doing for themselves, not for the new kin.

I don’t want to sound boastful, but a large part of why I feel so strongly about this has to do with my own personal experiences of the past couple years. My experiences from that time period tore at the very fabric of who I was and what my life was. I feel very strongly that had I been spoonfed and coddled and handed this vision of my “trueform” those events would have destroyed me. As it was, they came very close to doing so anyway but by that point I had invested a great many years in doing a lot of slow, patient work to Know Myself, to understand who and what I was down to the bone and deeper. I have this solid, strong framework of self built on years of learning to understand myself, my feelings, my ideas, my beliefs, my reactions, etc… and when the day came that I felt entirely cut adrift from the paths I had believed in and the places I thought I was going, I still had that inner sense of self and strength to hold me through it. My “time in the Desert”, as I have come to think of it, has been a time of great personal growth and a valuable experience that has enriched me in many ways. I am still IN that time, actually. I do not really know where my path will lead me next or where to even start looking for it but =that’s okay=. Because whether I’m in the desert or walking a path, I am still Me. And what I’ve learned over the years has taught me that the best thing for =me= to do when I’m not sure which direction to walk in, is to find a nice warm rock in the sun and just sit and Be.

I could not have learned that by dint of someone doing the armwavedance over me in a weekend. That is the product of years of meditation, study, practice, methodology, magic and inner Journeying.

You can call me many negative things, but you can’t say I have a weak sense of self.

Broken Toys

The alwaysweres, the nevergones
We fix the broken toys
The cast-off fineries worn like jewels
The tossed-aways adorn our brows
You smile and laugh and pat our heads
And say that you are like us too
When you have time that is.
Want to, wish to, cannot yet
Fog on water, insubstantial
And we don’t buy it anymore.
Your toy soldiers are dead to you
You killed them, not the world
Those stuffed animals won’t speak to you
You refuse to hear them
And you cry, and say you wish to have back
All that you lost before
We don’t buy it anymore.
When the world is dark and dreary
And the blandness overcomes
And the mundane crushes souls
And children cry when dreams are torn
And unicorns retreat away
And hidden from you are the Fey
You wring your hands again and say
If only I could dream again.
You killed them all, not the world
Your walls could easily unfurl
With just a word, but you stay silent
And we don’t buy it anymore

For a Changing World

This poem was written shortly after getting
back from a walk through the woods in Cary, NC, witnessing the
clearcutting and destruction, but also the new growth, the clean
air by the waters and a sense of those things just beyond sight.


I will live among the dead, and the dying
Those that know, and those that remain unaware
I will mourn their passing
But I will not join them
I will walk among the blinkered, and the blind
Those who chose, and those who had no choice
I will grieve their sight
But I will not join them
I will look upon the destruction, and the destroyed
Those who won, and those who lost
I will sorrow for their passing
But I will not join them
I will dance among the mad, and the maddened
Those who laugh, and those who cry
I will help them seek their sanity
But I will not join them
I will laugh among the sun-touched, and the star-lit
Those who are young, and those who are old
I will revel in their presence
They I will join.

Chapter’s End

The book of our solitary walkings
Draws nigh to a close…
And for ages we have walked alone:
Forgetful and longing in turn
For the days at hand, what was and yet will be.
As another walks to a circle by the fire
Another chapter closes
Another path comes full circle,
Andother solitary light burning bravely
Becomes one of a million stories
In a naked city of life and dream.
Can another lovely star
Join the all-star cast
Of a film that never ends?
Pick up a script and play one role…
Play it with all the depth and passion of a feature part
Without stealing the show?
We all think ourselves to be fine critics,
Learned and clever at discourse,
But if our essays teach us aught, it is this,
and we do well to listen:
Live life like Art
Breathe Art like Life
It is said that our life
is but the artful imitation of life,
And well we know that life imitates Art.
The treasure of a dream remembered
The shining center of an endless story
Becomes now a jewel in a crown of many jewels
A star in an endless sea of stars
A wave on an ocean of still Truth
One voice in a throng… or a chorus.
We have held the sparks that dared
Ever have we been the tinder that burned alone against the dark
To exhaust our selves, defiant to the last, burning against overwhelming forgetfulness.
Come together we have, to kindle a brighter fire.
Still, we must join to light a log of substance,
A flame that will endure through our lives to come
Until the light returns.
The oak that was we burn at Yule,
The tree that grew in times we knew
Will turn the Wheel again
But we cannot burn what we will not bear
What we fear to touch
Will only waste and rot…
Seasons change, trees die and are reborn…
In the wild places they hold the past for us…
And like the trees,
Born of freedom,
Our roots run deep
Lest we be washed away.
We are Faeries.
We are the wise folk,
The non-sense folk.
We are the free folk, ever changing.
We wear the green coats of ages past
We are Free… to remember.
Free enough to take our endless roles
In an eternal play.
And together we can bring a tear,
A sign, a gasp, a fright, a laugh,
To the heart of the Dream.
Gather around, ye Tybalt, Verrocchio, Hamlet, and Shylock,
Titania and Titus, Rosencrantz and Second Guard, Caesar and Soothsayer,
Falstaff and Rosalind and Porter and Herald,
Prospero, Juliet, Duncan, all…
The curtain’s coming up.

Cheerful Thoughts

A cool breeze blowing,
The snowflakes falling,
A sweet voice calling.
Joyous music plays,
Many happy faces,
Dancing with the fae.
Moving around the circle,
Shades of blue and purple,
Silken scarves move in the wind.
Laughing I join the others,
All my sisters and brothers,
Around the bonfire with love.
We may not all be similar,
But we are together,
Because of our fae blood.

Child of the Universe

I am a child of the storm
a spirit of darkness
a catalyst.
I live in the night
forgotten and betrayed by the day.
The moon is my only light
as I wander this world alone.
I am bound to my task
by vows as old as time.
I am a child of the night
ethereal incarnate as mundane,
I can only fight
and dance the winds
as the storm rises.
I am a child of power,
fire runs in my veins.
I am meant to be free
as wild as the elements,
unfettered by mortal values
by time.
I am a child,
the universe stands before me.
All knowledge,
all power,
all future is mine.
I am a child of possibility
all is mine.
I run to the storm.
I run to the night.
I run to the winds.
I am a child of darkness
and I am free.

Children of the Stars

When the Universe was young we were old.
Our home long ages gone, we lived among the stars.
We did not know fear, we did not know pain.
We simply were.
We sang as Gaia was born.
We gave her life.
She grew under our watchful eyes.
We knew joy.
She grew in beauty and swelled with life.
We cradled her in our arms as she gave birth.
We were joyful.
We sang her children lullabies.
We stood ready when they took those first fragile steps.
We knew joy.
Sadness came when Gaia’s children forgot.
They abused their mother.
We knew sadness.
We came to her children, to protect and to guide.
The Elf, the Hobbit, the Fey, the Vampyre, the spirit.
Wiccan, wizard alike we took form.
We came to help and to give hope.
We were scorned, we were hated.
We knew pain.
We knew fear.
Together we hid, under rock, under ground.
In the sacred sanctuary of the trees.
Gaia mourned for her children, Gaia mourned for us.
We did not mourn.
Many aeons we waited, centuries untold, time has no meaning for us.
We will always be reborn.
The children are awakening.
They are remembering.
We come together, we take up the call.
Hark the call of the awakening.
Remember the ancient songs, take up the melody.
Help the children remember.
Children of the Stars, AWAKE!

The Coming Of An Age

Elves and Dragons
Celestials and Fae
Walk yet among Us
On the Earth Today
Something else I notice
with every passing year
more and more become awakened
And something seems quite clear
That something is approaching
a time for all us as kin
shall go hand and hand
And with Our Magicks Mend
The Earth and this Realm
will be conjoined with our Own
The Coming Of The Age
When Physically we’ll Walk Home
Oh what a grand time it will be
when we’re passing through the veil again Rejoice now in Unity
Now let’s Begin
Too weave the threads of fate once more
and do the goddess’ will
too spread the truth and magicks wide
So we can all begin too heal
That which has been long broken by man
and clear away the myths and lore
Tell her Children Of The Truths
And Unseal The Mystic’s Door.

Eyes Unclouded

I am more than I seem.
To the eyes, a girl,
Small, a grin at her lips,
A flicker of playfulness in her eye.

But to the soul…
I am the coyote,
The hunter, the runner,
The trickster, the teacher,
The seeker of wisdom, the walker of paths untrodden…

I gaze to the stars and call them by name,
I run amongst the clouds and wind,
I search for others,
Seeking to teach, to guide,
And still, to learn.

This is my body, my skin is true.
I walk upright, I sing, I speak,
But in my heart and in my dreams,
I have always been, and always will be
The coyote.

A Darkness Falls

A darkness falls
Across the lands,
The merry halls,
I clasp my hands
A light erupts,
A darkness falls
And it corrupts,
A darkness calls,
I make my light,
The blue shines out,
Prepares to fight
A darkness grows,
Light fades away,
Fire burning blue
Unto the fray,
I spread my wings,
Soar up on high,
A burning blue
Fighting the sky,
A darkness spreads
Around my soul,
The darkness spreads,
Evicts my soul.

Enchanted

The world becomes most magickal
like frost is dripping with etherical dew when I am walking along
enchanted forest paths with the likes of you
We belong within this realm
with horns and leaves in our hair
dancing, kissing, laughter ringing
walking in caves and The gnomes lair
Who will know
just who we’ll meet
when we go a troopin’ through?
I don’t mind
For I am enchanted, glamoured
when by my side Is you.
I know with some odd disillusion
That I am dreaming and i hope I’ll not wake
I wish too stay right where we are
making love in this tarn green lake
Don’t you agree
do you want too stay
where faeries like us taunt you all the day?
Say you love us, make things merry
In The world of Faery.

Fae

forest deep
redwood’s height
river swift
stars bright
lights glow
colour spins
flame leaps
dance begins
hands clasp
voice sings
fingers pluck
harp strings
majik flows
majik flies
moon’s light
laughter, sighs
couples, then
ancient dance
sacred cauldron
bleeding lance
faery majik
flowing far
living dreams
dreams are

The Faerie Trick

Across the fields and forests lay
A land named faerie, tucked away…

A farmer passed a hollow tree
And stepped within to closer see;
But how I ask, could he have known
The ancient tree led to Faerie home?

Through the tree a farmer stepped
Into a forest the faeries kept…

And out he stepped into the light,
Upon a path that shimmered bright
The farmer knew that he should stay
Lest the ‘Little people’ lead him astray.

Within the trees the faeries watched,
Waiting to make the farmer lost…

Farther down the glowing path
He chanced upon a maidens bath,
Bewitched was he and closer crept,
Til close enough, and then he lept.

The maiden was a faerie trick
And the farmer lost the path of brick…

The faeries led this man astray
Off the path to loose his way,
To wander the forest forever more
To search for the Fae-maiden he saw.

So do not stray from the path my friend,
Or be forever lost until your end…

Faerie Warning

Faeries dance with moonbeams
Inside the mushroom ring.
Can you hear them calling?
Do you hear them sing?
Gossamer gowns of spiders silk
Wings of silver and golden light
Entice them in with honeyed milk
They’re invisible to mortal sight.
Elven mounds and mushroom rings
Magical doorways to their realm
Enchantment guards both these things
And all you see is a stately elm.

Mortal, mortal stay away
Or never more be seen
Stay away from the lands of the fey
And live to remember yester’en.

Faeries’ Song

Peace by Peace
We walk this land
Heart and Heart and
Heart in Hand
See the glow of Faeries Light
Deep in shadow
Full of might
Heart and Heart and
Heart in Hand
I am a faery who shall protect this land
Deep of summer
Autumn Night
Colds of Winter
You shall see my light
Then comes Spring
I spread my wings
Happy as I frolic To and Fro
Here is where you should not go
Though if it harm none do what you will
But if you harm me as I go
As I frolic To and Fro
Expect a spell and expect it fast
Expect your butt down in the grass
If you harm the deer while I’m away
Expect trouble night and day
For protecting is the faery way
That is all I have to say

Fires of His Eyes

In the fires of his eyes
In whispered words so sage and wise
Under ancient forest ceiling
Feel this strange and glorious feeling
Feel the touch, the soft caress
The whispered velvet of his breath
The feel of petal soft lips to mine
And feel the touch of the silken line
That holds his charm to my breast
And now my heart knows no rest
As I sit and dream of the faerie king
His silver hair and sights unseen
Of ancient voices soft as lutes
To which we mortals are as mutes
And if I am left with naught but dreams
To live my life wondering what it means
Then when I tire of this life and die
My spirit to faerie lands will fly
To sing forever, play and run
With immortal youth;
with midnights son.

Gloomy Day

Hear the song of the forest, the whisper of the trees.
Your heart racing with the slightest breeze.
The fairies sing and dance, to enchant the gloomy day,

While all the creatures of nature begin to play.

The sun creeps though a shroud of fog,
Whilst pixies dance upon a fallen log.

The elements in their form rejoice,
Singing in harmony with their gracious voice.

The wind doth blow with strength and might,
With vigor the trees of earth stand tight.

The spirits of nature applaud and cheer, with delight,

As the rain falls reviving everything in sight.

The flames of the fire dance in response to the strife
They are welcome here too, for all elements and
creatures (even you)
are a part of the circle of life.

How Do I Tell?

Dark, foreboding shadows steal my sleep and nght
Leave me with an empty gnawing at first morning’s light
Memories of forgotten times laying just beyond recall
Teasing my memory and sanity, hauntingly they call
Broken flashes of long ago break the sullen, silent air
Glimpses caught out of the corner of my eye, turning around, they’re not there.
Long buried thoughts and memories, nightmares come to life
Burst of fear and woe and loss and grief, indecision, doubt and strife
Or are they merely senseless images? Imagination become real
Flights of boyhood fancy? Someone tell me. How do I tell?

Lament

It is better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all
It is better to died
Than never lived
They do not understand
The passing days
Dragging life into oblivion
A day, an hour, at a time
Mortal bodies
Crumbling unto dust
Around a living mind
How could you do this to us?
Your children of the tenth generation
The blood weak in out veins
Touched by faerie
No longer of it.
Was it worth it?
A minute
An hour
A lifetime
Did you think of us?
Your children
Touched by forever
Condemmed to die
Sword thrust for sword thrust
Smooth thighs clenched around our throats
Passions sweat for us to drown in
Passion and strength of otherwhere
Bound by mortal flesh
Doomed to fade before blooming
What have you done to us?
How did we become this?
Why are we here?
WHY?
Why?
why?

The Last Ones

Fading dreams.
All that is left
Of the death throws of a dying race
On the surface
There is new growth
Branching out into a cold, unwelcoming world
Inside something is lost
Withering, empty
Starved of magic, and hope
So we fade from this world
Childless. Alone.
Even as the barest echos of us
Believe we thrive, born anew.
The movement is not new life
But the passing of old
One last spasm
Before the end.

No Shelter

Where does it come from?
This human instinct
To try, when hope is gone.
To fight, long after the battle is lost.
They depend on me
For strengh
For shelter from the world
For echos of pasts and futures
Yet fail to understand
There is no shelter from the coming storm
No Shinning Host to ride against the darkness
My strength comes from mortal blood
My proffered comfort from blackened wings
Despair my constant companion
For the devil will take the hindmost
He already has me.

Other

I am not you,
I am other,
When you lay down to sleep,
I wake.
In your light of day,
Your skin can be soft,
Your eyes do not see,
Things in the dark,
Your claws do not have to be sharp,
In your light of day,
I am not there.
When I awake,
My eyes see movement within the dark,
My fur keeps me warm,
My claws are easily unsheathed,
I prowl through the world,
That you can not see,
Surrounded by grey.
At that first light of day,
I lay down to sleep,
Your body stirs,
Alive with it’s weakness.
You cannot live in the dark,
I cannot fight in the light,
You are not me,
But I am of you.

Otherworld Spell

Otherworld, otherrealm.
Join with Mother Earth.
Let mundane energies
Be cast aside
So we may have
No need to hide.
Otherpower, at this hour,
Join our bodies
With our true selves.
May we gain complete remembrance of our very being.
Our magickal souls!
Manannan mac Lir,
remove the Veils,
So we may be as our true selves.
Door be poen!
Veil be gone!
Otherworld magick –
Make us one!

Peter

It took twenty years to find your shadow
‘Fore she sewed it on,
And you’re much too big to fly by now.
Poor Tinkerbell is gone.
The Lost boys are now all grown up
And looking to get hired.
You could be like them you know,
If combed and re-attired.
Your impudence has never dulled,
Your tongue could split a hair.
To make sure Time won’t come too close
you slice it through the air.
Boy, why are you crying?
is Neverland so far?
Or have you forgotten how to fly
and there’s no route by car?

Untitled poem in Quenya

Glorsoron atar celndu
a varda vilya!
oranta ramamel le
himsul pella i earon dinalin
tuile edri galenramar
aidar lissilin ne silivren ered
anna anara
tintiliel telprin coire iore

(Golden eagle feather float down from on high
O exalted sky!
lift up winglove to thee
cool winds beyond the great sea sing silent
spring opens green wings
trees sing sweetly on shining mountains
gift of the sun
sparkles silverlike stirring the heart)

Questions

Mommy,
did you hide my wings?
can I have them back?
so I can fly up high.
why can’t I reach the sky?
Daddy,
why are my paws not grey?
can’t we please go hunting today?
my hands can’t handle this.
they won’t obey
Grandpa
when you were little,
did the dragons soar?
did they whirl and dive?
why don’t they come anymore?
Grandma,
have you ever seen a faerie?
or maybe a nymph in the rain?
Grandma,
I want to see my old friends again.

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