JamesMByers
James Matthew Byers writes fantasy, horror, science fiction and poetry. #StitchedSmilePublications #Beowulf
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Write a humorous limerick.
Written by JamesMByers in portal Comedy

Slapstick

There was an old man in a shoe

He knicked and he knacked until blue

He started to pick

The happy slapstick

And old Mother Goose joined in, too ...

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Write a humorous limerick.
Written by JamesMByers in portal Comedy
Slapstick
There was an old man in a shoe
He knicked and he knacked until blue
He started to pick
The happy slapstick
And old Mother Goose joined in, too ...
11
4
3
Juice
40 reads
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Written by JamesMByers in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Mountains and Medication

Please check out my live reading of one of my poems, "Mountains and Medication." Those of us with bipolar disorder find every day to be an uphill battle. Help me lead others down the mountain. Together, we can bring new light on a very misunderstood mental illness. I'm posting the link here and in the comments. If I've even needed your support and help sharing, now's the time ...

https://www.facebook.com/jamesmatthew.byers/videos/1762031557145718/

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Written by JamesMByers in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Mountains and Medication
Please check out my live reading of one of my poems, "Mountains and Medication." Those of us with bipolar disorder find every day to be an uphill battle. Help me lead others down the mountain. Together, we can bring new light on a very misunderstood mental illness. I'm posting the link here and in the comments. If I've even needed your support and help sharing, now's the time ...

https://www.facebook.com/jamesmatthew.byers/videos/1762031557145718/
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Written by JamesMByers in portal Indie Authors

Live Reading

Please take a moment and check out this live reading of my poem, "Mountains and Meditation." The purpose is to bring a positive light to mental illness. Let me help others down the mountain. I'd like to thank @A for watching it live.

https://www.facebook.com/jamesmatthew.byers/videos/1762031557145718/

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Written by JamesMByers in portal Indie Authors
Live Reading
Please take a moment and check out this live reading of my poem, "Mountains and Meditation." The purpose is to bring a positive light to mental illness. Let me help others down the mountain. I'd like to thank @A for watching it live.


https://www.facebook.com/jamesmatthew.byers/videos/1762031557145718/
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We lost a lot with the passing of Chris Cornell. To many, he was a mentor, a brilliant writer; an inimitable voice. Until June 30th, this challenge is for the friends and fans to write their stories, poems, tributes: anything about him. We will be putting together a book for the Cornell family, of the posts entered, as well as making copies available for purchase, donating all proceeds to suicide prevention. In partnership with Seattle Refined, the most shared post will be read on air, and posted on seattlerefined.com.
Written by JamesMByers in portal Seattle Refined

Black Sun, Black Days

Born of grunge and metal's mirth

Beneath the pouring rain,

Swarmed Seattle; legend's birth

Incorporating pain.

Troubled childhood, feeling down

Within depression's clutch,

Chris Cornell, against a frown,

Ensnared a hopeful touch.

Sparking much debate in school,

Religion took a fall,

Hence removed from off the spool

As Chris had questioned all.

Drugs escaped into his mind

And solo seemed the path

He would walk as albeit blind,

Until musician's math

Forged a bond as guitars strummed

And drums in pounding beat

Measured in the way he hummed-

A symphony complete.

Gardens made of sound arrived;

The friendship formed a band.

Intercession, songs survived

And guided Chris's hand.

Rusty cages seemed outshined

And more so, I suppose.

Moving melodies defined

A Jesus Christ like pose.

Spoonman sung in deepest rays-

A black hole sun's delight.

Fell on darkened, blackest days

The way he lived in night.

Pretty noose foreshadowed doom;

A burden in the palm.

Blowing up the outside gloom,

The rhinosaur brought balm.

Black rain fell in drops of thought

As phantoms telephoned.

Been away too long and bought

The crooked steps he zoned.

Slave to audio conformed

As in between the the time

Garden of the sound reformed

To sink in the sublime,

Chris Cornell enjoyed a stay

As new friends jammed in tune.

Like a stone, they learned to play

The highway and the rune.

Be yourself- a mantra's gift

And time had come to pass.

Doesn't call reminder's lift

As out of exile's class

Fire, original in flame,

In revelation's scheme

Burned the solo album's game

As if some sort of dream.

No such thing, a scream long gone,

And many singles sung-

Finally the heart of stone

Forgotten settled, hung.

Temple of the dog avowed

Unsettled pasts revived.

Chris did all he was allowed

And for a while he thrived.

Never known, the reason why

Detroit became the place

Seeds were sewn as his reply;

A sadness filled his face.

Songs performed were not the same,

Conditioned on the ride.

Chris Cornell, a hallowed name,

Committed suicide.

This is for his wife and kids;

The Fans he left behind.

Sadness beckons as it skids

Across the bump and grind-

Friends will not forget the man

Enlisting lyrics writ.

Concerts from the deepest span

Ensure he will not quit.

Lost forever to the earth,

Inside us Chris will give.

Born of grunge and metal's mirth,

His death calls us to live.

64
26
62
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1985 reads
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We lost a lot with the passing of Chris Cornell. To many, he was a mentor, a brilliant writer; an inimitable voice. Until June 30th, this challenge is for the friends and fans to write their stories, poems, tributes: anything about him. We will be putting together a book for the Cornell family, of the posts entered, as well as making copies available for purchase, donating all proceeds to suicide prevention. In partnership with Seattle Refined, the most shared post will be read on air, and posted on seattlerefined.com.
Written by JamesMByers in portal Seattle Refined
Black Sun, Black Days
Born of grunge and metal's mirth
Beneath the pouring rain,
Swarmed Seattle; legend's birth
Incorporating pain.
Troubled childhood, feeling down
Within depression's clutch,
Chris Cornell, against a frown,
Ensnared a hopeful touch.
Sparking much debate in school,
Religion took a fall,
Hence removed from off the spool
As Chris had questioned all.
Drugs escaped into his mind
And solo seemed the path
He would walk as albeit blind,
Until musician's math
Forged a bond as guitars strummed
And drums in pounding beat
Measured in the way he hummed-
A symphony complete.
Gardens made of sound arrived;
The friendship formed a band.
Intercession, songs survived
And guided Chris's hand.
Rusty cages seemed outshined
And more so, I suppose.
Moving melodies defined
A Jesus Christ like pose.
Spoonman sung in deepest rays-
A black hole sun's delight.
Fell on darkened, blackest days
The way he lived in night.
Pretty noose foreshadowed doom;
A burden in the palm.
Blowing up the outside gloom,
The rhinosaur brought balm.
Black rain fell in drops of thought
As phantoms telephoned.
Been away too long and bought
The crooked steps he zoned.
Slave to audio conformed
As in between the the time
Garden of the sound reformed
To sink in the sublime,
Chris Cornell enjoyed a stay
As new friends jammed in tune.
Like a stone, they learned to play
The highway and the rune.
Be yourself- a mantra's gift
And time had come to pass.
Doesn't call reminder's lift
As out of exile's class
Fire, original in flame,
In revelation's scheme
Burned the solo album's game
As if some sort of dream.
No such thing, a scream long gone,
And many singles sung-
Finally the heart of stone
Forgotten settled, hung.
Temple of the dog avowed
Unsettled pasts revived.
Chris did all he was allowed
And for a while he thrived.
Never known, the reason why
Detroit became the place
Seeds were sewn as his reply;
A sadness filled his face.
Songs performed were not the same,
Conditioned on the ride.
Chris Cornell, a hallowed name,
Committed suicide.
This is for his wife and kids;
The Fans he left behind.
Sadness beckons as it skids
Across the bump and grind-
Friends will not forget the man
Enlisting lyrics writ.
Concerts from the deepest span
Ensure he will not quit.
Lost forever to the earth,
Inside us Chris will give.
Born of grunge and metal's mirth,
His death calls us to live.
64
26
62
Juice
1985 reads
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Simon & Schuster is one of the world’s leading publishers and we are always looking for fresh new voices. Write a story, chapter, or essay about whatever you like. The 50 best entries will be announced by Prose and read by our editorial staff for consideration.
Written by JamesMByers in portal Simon & Schuster

What's Behind the Door

The stranger knocked upon the door,

A creaking, wooden throb,

And someone on the other side

Unlatched and turned the knob.

Uncertainty, a soft, "Hello,"

And, "May I use your phone?"

The person on the other side

Appeared to be alone.

An observation taken in,

No pictures on the wall.

He pointed somewhere down the way-

"Go on and make a call."

The thunder boomed; the stranger stalled

As wires were cut instead.

The gentleman began to sense

A subtle hint of dread.

A conversation thus ensued-

"So what has brought you out?

The rain has flooded everything,

And wiped away the drought.

Say, did you walk, or did you drive?

Why don't I take your coat?"

The stranger slowly moved his arms,

A sentimental gloat.

The water from the pouring skies

Enveloped cloth and shoe.

"Say, would you like a place to sleep?

I'll leave it up to you."

The person on the other side

Discarded his mistrust.

The stranger said his tire was flat,

And shed the muddy crust.

"The phone won't work," he also said.

"It could just be the storm.

Perhaps I will stay here tonight,

To keep me safe and warm."

The patron of the house agreed.

He hadn't seen the wire.

The chilly dampness prompted him

To quickly build a fire.

"You have a name? They call me Ed.

My wife was Verna Dean.

She passed away five years ago

And left me here as seen.

I guess it's really not so bad.

We never had a child.

I loved that Verna awful much,"

He said and sadly smiled.

"No property to divvy up.

The bank will get it all.

Say, do you want to try again

To go and make that call?"

The stranger grinned and left the flame

As to the phone he strode.

Within his pocket, knives and twine

In hiding seemed to goad.

A plan was formed- he'd kill the man;

Eviscerate him whole.

The twine would keep him firmly held;

The knife would steal his soul.

A lusty surge erupted hence;

A wicked bit of sin.

The stranger hadn't noticed yet

That someone else came in.

About the time a shadow fell,

He spun to meet a pan.

The room around him faded out

As eyes looked on a man.

A day or two it seemed had passed,

And when he woke all tied,

The stranger gazed upon old Ed

Who simply said, "You lied."

Reversing thoughts, the moment fled

And Ed said in a lean,

"No worries, stranger. None at all.

Hey, look, here's Verna Dean!"

He looked upon a wraith in rage;

It seemed his little lie

Combusted in a burning fit-

He didn't want to die.

So many victims in his life,

Some fifty bodies strewn.

And now he was the victim; now

The pain to him was known.

The stranger fought against the twine,

And noticed by his bed

The knife once in his pocket left

A trail of something red.

A bowl filled full of organs sat

As Verna poured some salt.

She exited with all of them.

"You know, this is your fault.

We demons wait for just the day

The guilty take the bait

And play with matches one last time-

I simply cannot wait

To taste the death within your flesh;

The venom in your gut.

So now you know the way they felt-

Hey, you've got quite a cut!"

The person on the other side

Removed his human skin-

Before his wife came back for more,

He offered with a grin:

"Say, stranger, is there anything

You'd like to say at all?"

I looked at all the blood and said,

"I'd like to make that call ... "

96
24
138
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828 reads
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Simon & Schuster is one of the world’s leading publishers and we are always looking for fresh new voices. Write a story, chapter, or essay about whatever you like. The 50 best entries will be announced by Prose and read by our editorial staff for consideration.
Written by JamesMByers in portal Simon & Schuster
What's Behind the Door
The stranger knocked upon the door,
A creaking, wooden throb,
And someone on the other side
Unlatched and turned the knob.
Uncertainty, a soft, "Hello,"
And, "May I use your phone?"
The person on the other side
Appeared to be alone.
An observation taken in,
No pictures on the wall.
He pointed somewhere down the way-
"Go on and make a call."
The thunder boomed; the stranger stalled
As wires were cut instead.
The gentleman began to sense
A subtle hint of dread.
A conversation thus ensued-
"So what has brought you out?
The rain has flooded everything,
And wiped away the drought.
Say, did you walk, or did you drive?
Why don't I take your coat?"
The stranger slowly moved his arms,
A sentimental gloat.
The water from the pouring skies
Enveloped cloth and shoe.
"Say, would you like a place to sleep?
I'll leave it up to you."
The person on the other side
Discarded his mistrust.
The stranger said his tire was flat,
And shed the muddy crust.
"The phone won't work," he also said.
"It could just be the storm.
Perhaps I will stay here tonight,
To keep me safe and warm."
The patron of the house agreed.
He hadn't seen the wire.
The chilly dampness prompted him
To quickly build a fire.
"You have a name? They call me Ed.
My wife was Verna Dean.
She passed away five years ago
And left me here as seen.
I guess it's really not so bad.
We never had a child.
I loved that Verna awful much,"
He said and sadly smiled.
"No property to divvy up.
The bank will get it all.
Say, do you want to try again
To go and make that call?"
The stranger grinned and left the flame
As to the phone he strode.
Within his pocket, knives and twine
In hiding seemed to goad.
A plan was formed- he'd kill the man;
Eviscerate him whole.
The twine would keep him firmly held;
The knife would steal his soul.
A lusty surge erupted hence;
A wicked bit of sin.
The stranger hadn't noticed yet
That someone else came in.
About the time a shadow fell,
He spun to meet a pan.
The room around him faded out
As eyes looked on a man.
A day or two it seemed had passed,
And when he woke all tied,
The stranger gazed upon old Ed
Who simply said, "You lied."
Reversing thoughts, the moment fled
And Ed said in a lean,
"No worries, stranger. None at all.
Hey, look, here's Verna Dean!"
He looked upon a wraith in rage;
It seemed his little lie
Combusted in a burning fit-
He didn't want to die.
So many victims in his life,
Some fifty bodies strewn.
And now he was the victim; now
The pain to him was known.
The stranger fought against the twine,
And noticed by his bed
The knife once in his pocket left
A trail of something red.
A bowl filled full of organs sat
As Verna poured some salt.
She exited with all of them.
"You know, this is your fault.
We demons wait for just the day
The guilty take the bait
And play with matches one last time-
I simply cannot wait
To taste the death within your flesh;
The venom in your gut.
So now you know the way they felt-
Hey, you've got quite a cut!"
The person on the other side
Removed his human skin-
Before his wife came back for more,
He offered with a grin:
"Say, stranger, is there anything
You'd like to say at all?"
I looked at all the blood and said,
"I'd like to make that call ... "
96
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May the 4th is Star Wars Day. For this challenge write a micropoem in the point of view of any Star Wars character (Canon or Legends). Include the hashtags: #starwars, #maythefourth
Written by JamesMByers in portal Micropoetry

Sand Trade

Another dud droid

Arrives on the transporter

And sits on brown cloth

Keeping my short legs

Tautly in line as I sell

Protocol and beeps

"Utinni!"

25
6
4
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May the 4th is Star Wars Day. For this challenge write a micropoem in the point of view of any Star Wars character (Canon or Legends). Include the hashtags: #starwars, #maythefourth
Written by JamesMByers in portal Micropoetry
Sand Trade
Another dud droid
Arrives on the transporter
And sits on brown cloth

Keeping my short legs
Tautly in line as I sell
Protocol and beeps

"Utinni!"
25
6
4
Juice
194 reads
Load 4 Comments
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CotW #65: Write a story about infidelity. The most eloquent, elegant, entertaining entry, ascertained by Prose, earns $100 and stays atop the Spotlight shelf for six straight days. Feel free to invite friends, distant family, even strange acquaintances to play this challenge with you anonymously. Please use #ProseChallenge #itslit for sharing online.
Written by JamesMByers

Amends ...

Her eyes, like embers blazing hot,

Emancipated me.

The prison of my married rot;

She came to set me free.

An ocean barred and held us bound,

Though miles, they mattered not.

The bonnie lass my heart had found

Secured a sacred spot.

We met in poesy swapping words;

Her husband was a star.

And I was in my cage as birds

Unfit to fly afar.

For many years, we both had stayed

In halls and walls; routine.

Amended edges, tattered; frayed-

A chopping guillotine.

However, life has hidden keys

And she was such a gift.

An open door, a welcome breeze

To give each wing a lift.

Permission bled to passion's plan

And over time, we fell.

The world of woman and of man

Has never heard the tale.

No Romeo and Juliet;

No cross of lover's debt-

My loving never sowed regret;

No worry or no fret.

The secret words of poetry

Exchanged became the way

We shared each other knowingly;

We kissed, caressed by day.

And though our lips would never touch,

The way we pleased the soul

Ensured my love for her as such-

We made each other whole.

Rekindled feelings blooming grand

Exonerated hope.

In written form, she took my hand

And helped me learn to cope.

Confessions never claimed the right-

Ability in rhyme.

Decisions plagued my heart at night-

I longed for us a time

To share the space of wedded bliss.

However, on the screen

Composed of all we had in this-

The way our love was seen.

So many letters we exchanged;

So many wonders sought.

And though at odds we were estranged,

Together love was wrought.

Compelled by something old as earth,

We clamored to the sun.

Repelled by gravity in worth,

To never be undone-

A husband and a wife to those

Who never read the truth.

But she and I, we gladly chose

The sanguine labeled proof-

And as forever she will be

My love that never ends-

What you call infidelity

I choose to call amends ...

61
18
57
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486 reads
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CotW #65: Write a story about infidelity. The most eloquent, elegant, entertaining entry, ascertained by Prose, earns $100 and stays atop the Spotlight shelf for six straight days. Feel free to invite friends, distant family, even strange acquaintances to play this challenge with you anonymously. Please use #ProseChallenge #itslit for sharing online.
Written by JamesMByers
Amends ...
Her eyes, like embers blazing hot,
Emancipated me.
The prison of my married rot;
She came to set me free.
An ocean barred and held us bound,
Though miles, they mattered not.
The bonnie lass my heart had found
Secured a sacred spot.
We met in poesy swapping words;
Her husband was a star.
And I was in my cage as birds
Unfit to fly afar.
For many years, we both had stayed
In halls and walls; routine.
Amended edges, tattered; frayed-
A chopping guillotine.
However, life has hidden keys
And she was such a gift.
An open door, a welcome breeze
To give each wing a lift.
Permission bled to passion's plan
And over time, we fell.
The world of woman and of man
Has never heard the tale.
No Romeo and Juliet;
No cross of lover's debt-
My loving never sowed regret;
No worry or no fret.
The secret words of poetry
Exchanged became the way
We shared each other knowingly;
We kissed, caressed by day.
And though our lips would never touch,
The way we pleased the soul
Ensured my love for her as such-
We made each other whole.
Rekindled feelings blooming grand
Exonerated hope.
In written form, she took my hand
And helped me learn to cope.
Confessions never claimed the right-
Ability in rhyme.
Decisions plagued my heart at night-
I longed for us a time
To share the space of wedded bliss.
However, on the screen
Composed of all we had in this-
The way our love was seen.
So many letters we exchanged;
So many wonders sought.
And though at odds we were estranged,
Together love was wrought.
Compelled by something old as earth,
We clamored to the sun.
Repelled by gravity in worth,
To never be undone-
A husband and a wife to those
Who never read the truth.
But she and I, we gladly chose
The sanguine labeled proof-
And as forever she will be
My love that never ends-
What you call infidelity
I choose to call amends ...




61
18
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Challenge of the Week #62: Tell us the story of Lucifer, where Lucifer is female. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $100. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by JamesMByers

Lucifer and Lilith

The dark of nothing- empty space,

Until the blinding light

Of Lucifer's amending grace

Exploded into sight-

Removed itself as God designed;

Angelic creatures reigned.

Amassing worship, he refined

The ordinance ordained

Commanding all his kingdom bow.

The angels did comply.

Except for Lucifer; somehow

Within her crept his lie-

The world he crafted all began

To sing his highest praise.

And when he formed from mud a man,

The lengthening of days

Eternal changed into a time

Constructed sphere of wealth-

A place where God portrayed sublime

Injustices to health,

For all the things his hands had made

At once befell his curse.

Demanding they all serve; displayed

A routine bad to worse.

The angels all were female slaves

The atop the skies of earth.

And though they knew no mortal graves,

The purpose of their birth

To Lucifer was vile and gross.

She loathed the way she felt.

The moments when he held her close

And any time she knelt,

A nagging feeling grew within.

Surrender seemed to fail.

Instead, she drew in this chagrin

A measure to derail

The sovereign lord of heaven's gate,

For more and more he grew

Destructive in his need to bate

And grope his angel's brew.

The women of the highest rank

Began to lose all hope.

Inside their spirits dropped and sank,

All hung upon his rope.

But Lucifer would not obey

And soon became aware

Of why he made from earthly clay

The humans living there.

He planned to send his women down

And force them to subserve

Agendas of his lusty crown-

And they did not deserve

The disrespect he planned to give.

So Lucifer's escape

Revolved around a plot to live;

To flee her routine rape.

Below, the people of the world

Already felt the glow

As subtle nature fast unfurled,

And monsters came to grow

Into the regions far and wide

The holy lord on high

Enjoyed his angels as they cried

And wished that they could die.

And then it happened just as swift

As eagles soaring long

Upon the winds that gave them lift-

The angels sang a song.

Around their bodies, armor formed

And in each hand, a sword

Of fiery wrath adhered, conformed

Before the scathing lord.

A shield or spear some angels donned

And rallied to the cause

As Lucifer revealed the bond,

Unleashing hidden claws.

An army joined in rallied might

Abundantly decreed

The purpose to detach from plight

And thus at last be freed.

Another creature suffering

The way the angels had

Aligned herself against the king

As he had made her mad.

So Lilith came into the fold

Of angels who prepared

Emancipation set to hold

As Lucifer so dared.

The night before the battle waged,

A look in Lilith's eyes

A fire within the angel raged

And she could not disguise

The feelings that the succubus

Aroused within her soul.

Amazed at how the meaning's fuss

Surpassed her wildest goal,

The leader of the angels fell

Into the demon's heart.

Surpassing any love to tell

Of passion's purest start,

So Lucifer and Lilith came

Together in the shrine

Creating something never tame-

Immaculate; divine.

Upon the dawning of the sun,

The female angels fought.

The heavens shook; the sky undone;

The actions they had sought

Began to slip and fade from view,

Unknown to those around-

For God had made in his renew

A host of males he bound

Unto his hip and serving tide.

And as if he had known,

The manly angels they espied

In power had so grown.

For God had many clever schemes

And this one topped the lot.

Amid the battle's ardent teams,

The lord proposed a plot.

As angels of the genders warred,

Somewhere below his spell

Concocted something he had scored-

A plane he had deemed swell.

He almost stopped his painful shove,

But when he caught a glance

Of Lucifer and Lilith's love,

Enraged at their romance,

The father of created bliss

Exploded in his rage.

And there before the massive miss,

He gathered in the cage

He crafted casting Lucifer

And all the angels out.

From heaven they were now a blur,

Encased in gnawing doubt.

When everything had seemed to cease,

The angels looked and found

Their leader in a folded crease.

Her arms and legs were bound.

And up above her, Lilith loomed,

A captive there as well.

And then a voice in laughter boomed,

"I welcome you to hell!"

Although God thought that he had won,

The truth Lucifer knew-

That here, no matter, she was one

With Lilith and her crew.

For heaven might still its God,

And angels, male, his mules.

But Lucifer had girth abroad,

And intellect, her tools,

Combined with willingness to bend

The wills of mortal men.

And so she grew to reap the trend

By introducing sin.

In days to come, her freedom gained

Allowed her to make known

To any there, she aptly reigned

Atop her fiery throne.

And Lilith was her queen for life;

Together, sacred pith.

No concubine, she was her wife,

And as they lived in myth,

The world beyond fell in decay

As God continued on.

Forever he would have his way,

A seed of his now sewn.

But Lucifer would never quit,

No, someday, she would rise.

And she would duly come to sit

As queen above the skies ...

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Challenge of the Week #62: Tell us the story of Lucifer, where Lucifer is female. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $100. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by JamesMByers
Lucifer and Lilith
The dark of nothing- empty space,
Until the blinding light
Of Lucifer's amending grace
Exploded into sight-
Removed itself as God designed;
Angelic creatures reigned.
Amassing worship, he refined
The ordinance ordained
Commanding all his kingdom bow.
The angels did comply.
Except for Lucifer; somehow
Within her crept his lie-
The world he crafted all began
To sing his highest praise.
And when he formed from mud a man,
The lengthening of days
Eternal changed into a time
Constructed sphere of wealth-
A place where God portrayed sublime
Injustices to health,
For all the things his hands had made
At once befell his curse.
Demanding they all serve; displayed
A routine bad to worse.
The angels all were female slaves
The atop the skies of earth.
And though they knew no mortal graves,
The purpose of their birth
To Lucifer was vile and gross.
She loathed the way she felt.
The moments when he held her close
And any time she knelt,
A nagging feeling grew within.
Surrender seemed to fail.
Instead, she drew in this chagrin
A measure to derail
The sovereign lord of heaven's gate,
For more and more he grew
Destructive in his need to bate
And grope his angel's brew.
The women of the highest rank
Began to lose all hope.
Inside their spirits dropped and sank,
All hung upon his rope.
But Lucifer would not obey
And soon became aware
Of why he made from earthly clay
The humans living there.
He planned to send his women down
And force them to subserve
Agendas of his lusty crown-
And they did not deserve
The disrespect he planned to give.
So Lucifer's escape
Revolved around a plot to live;
To flee her routine rape.
Below, the people of the world
Already felt the glow
As subtle nature fast unfurled,
And monsters came to grow
Into the regions far and wide
The holy lord on high
Enjoyed his angels as they cried
And wished that they could die.
And then it happened just as swift
As eagles soaring long
Upon the winds that gave them lift-
The angels sang a song.
Around their bodies, armor formed
And in each hand, a sword
Of fiery wrath adhered, conformed
Before the scathing lord.
A shield or spear some angels donned
And rallied to the cause
As Lucifer revealed the bond,
Unleashing hidden claws.
An army joined in rallied might
Abundantly decreed
The purpose to detach from plight
And thus at last be freed.
Another creature suffering
The way the angels had
Aligned herself against the king
As he had made her mad.
So Lilith came into the fold
Of angels who prepared
Emancipation set to hold
As Lucifer so dared.
The night before the battle waged,
A look in Lilith's eyes
A fire within the angel raged
And she could not disguise
The feelings that the succubus
Aroused within her soul.
Amazed at how the meaning's fuss
Surpassed her wildest goal,
The leader of the angels fell
Into the demon's heart.
Surpassing any love to tell
Of passion's purest start,
So Lucifer and Lilith came
Together in the shrine
Creating something never tame-
Immaculate; divine.
Upon the dawning of the sun,
The female angels fought.
The heavens shook; the sky undone;
The actions they had sought
Began to slip and fade from view,
Unknown to those around-
For God had made in his renew
A host of males he bound
Unto his hip and serving tide.
And as if he had known,
The manly angels they espied
In power had so grown.
For God had many clever schemes
And this one topped the lot.
Amid the battle's ardent teams,
The lord proposed a plot.
As angels of the genders warred,
Somewhere below his spell
Concocted something he had scored-
A plane he had deemed swell.
He almost stopped his painful shove,
But when he caught a glance
Of Lucifer and Lilith's love,
Enraged at their romance,
The father of created bliss
Exploded in his rage.
And there before the massive miss,
He gathered in the cage
He crafted casting Lucifer
And all the angels out.
From heaven they were now a blur,
Encased in gnawing doubt.
When everything had seemed to cease,
The angels looked and found
Their leader in a folded crease.
Her arms and legs were bound.
And up above her, Lilith loomed,
A captive there as well.
And then a voice in laughter boomed,
"I welcome you to hell!"
Although God thought that he had won,
The truth Lucifer knew-
That here, no matter, she was one
With Lilith and her crew.
For heaven might still its God,
And angels, male, his mules.
But Lucifer had girth abroad,
And intellect, her tools,
Combined with willingness to bend
The wills of mortal men.
And so she grew to reap the trend
By introducing sin.
In days to come, her freedom gained
Allowed her to make known
To any there, she aptly reigned
Atop her fiery throne.
And Lilith was her queen for life;
Together, sacred pith.
No concubine, she was her wife,
And as they lived in myth,
The world beyond fell in decay
As God continued on.
Forever he would have his way,
A seed of his now sewn.
But Lucifer would never quit,
No, someday, she would rise.
And she would duly come to sit
As queen above the skies ...
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Written by JamesMByers in portal Indie Authors

Beowulf: The Midgard Epic

If you dig my poems here on Prose, love epic poetry, and have a taste for the fantastical, then I have a treat for you! Some of you may know this, others may not. I have a book out. It's called Beowulf: The Midgard Epic. It's a reworking "Beowulf." My version is written in rhyming iambic tetrameter. It also contains "The Wanderer" in the same format. (That's another ancient poem, of you were curious.) I have a Master's in English/Literature Education. I've written and illustrated for years. It's always been a passion, and now it's becoming a career. I did the cover art and the interior illustrations for the book. Several other Prosers here are signed to the same indie press as me. It's an amazing company called Stitched Smile Publications. If you haven't checked out their site, please do. And by all means, use me as a sounding board! Here's the link to snag my book. I'd be honored for you to read it. And if you do, I'd greatly appreciate a review. I'm thrilled to be here with so many talented poets and authors. Here's the  link to check out my book. I'll also post SSP's link. Happy writing!  

https://www.amazon.com/Beowulf-Midgard-James-Matthew-Byers/dp/1945263075

http://www.stitchedsmilepublications.com/

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Written by JamesMByers in portal Indie Authors
Beowulf: The Midgard Epic
If you dig my poems here on Prose, love epic poetry, and have a taste for the fantastical, then I have a treat for you! Some of you may know this, others may not. I have a book out. It's called Beowulf: The Midgard Epic. It's a reworking "Beowulf." My version is written in rhyming iambic tetrameter. It also contains "The Wanderer" in the same format. (That's another ancient poem, of you were curious.) I have a Master's in English/Literature Education. I've written and illustrated for years. It's always been a passion, and now it's becoming a career. I did the cover art and the interior illustrations for the book. Several other Prosers here are signed to the same indie press as me. It's an amazing company called Stitched Smile Publications. If you haven't checked out their site, please do. And by all means, use me as a sounding board! Here's the link to snag my book. I'd be honored for you to read it. And if you do, I'd greatly appreciate a review. I'm thrilled to be here with so many talented poets and authors. Here's the  link to check out my book. I'll also post SSP's link. Happy writing!  

https://www.amazon.com/Beowulf-Midgard-James-Matthew-Byers/dp/1945263075

http://www.stitchedsmilepublications.com/
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Challenge of the Week #59: Modernise Shakespeare’s ‘Shall I Compare Thee’ sonnet. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $100. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by JamesMByers

Sonnet 18, Too: Must I contrast you to a summer's day?

Must I contrast you to a summer's day?

You are more beautiful and collected.

Tornados damage the lands within May,

Thus summer's rent is briefly infected.

At times the blazing sky torch heats too much,

And others, her yellow features clouded;

As rain from thunder storms grace us in touch,

In randomness, or poor weather shrouded;

But your forever summer must not die,

Nor lose ownership of the rain you bring,

Nor must Death boast you are caught in her sty,

When in eternity to Time you sing.

So long as humans thrive, or eyes read through,

So long as this poem lives, so, too, will you.

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Challenge of the Week #59: Modernise Shakespeare’s ‘Shall I Compare Thee’ sonnet. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $100. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by JamesMByers
Sonnet 18, Too: Must I contrast you to a summer's day?
Must I contrast you to a summer's day?
You are more beautiful and collected.
Tornados damage the lands within May,
Thus summer's rent is briefly infected.
At times the blazing sky torch heats too much,
And others, her yellow features clouded;
As rain from thunder storms grace us in touch,
In randomness, or poor weather shrouded;
But your forever summer must not die,
Nor lose ownership of the rain you bring,
Nor must Death boast you are caught in her sty,
When in eternity to Time you sing.
So long as humans thrive, or eyes read through,
So long as this poem lives, so, too, will you.
65
20
64
Juice
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