The Campaign Builder's Guild

Voluptuary

The image of perfection;
A masculine enigmity:
Falsehood's favored son
Cloaked in counterfeit countenance,

But perfection proves imperfect.
That fraudulent face
Offers no love, offers naught--
Seeking to sate its sybaritic self.

Curbed carnal cravings crescendo
Into a pyre of passion.
The prurient, sensuous seduction
An avaricious aphrodisiac.

Evil erotic escapades
Driving damsels downward in desire;
Depraved debauchery--
A corporal contagion.

Fickle fault of flesh:
Pregnant of promise
Yet virginal of verity.
A misogynist in a maudlin mask.

Ballad of the Sun and Moon

I gazed into the midnight sky
To view my Lady Moon-shine;
"Sweet silver sorceress of mine,
Why dost thou hang thy head to cry?"

"The Sun has gone away," she said.
"I never more will see my love.
He once held station high above,
But now the world is cold and dead."

Her tears a flood of grief profound--
Tender aching at his absence
Feels ever his bright influece:
Sad symphony bereft of sound.

"Sweet Selene, not so sad a tune:
See sombre breaking of your heart--
No ship a sea of tears may chart.
My mistress be a maudlin moon.

"While weep we may when hope deserts
Despair do not so dextrous find
As night doth follow day behind,
Whose coming loving strength asserts.

"For day doth dawn again, my dove"
As I reveal my morning rays,
"No dark begot of yesterdays
Can ever keep away my love."

Alas, alas, poor Lugra fair
Night matron and celestial mistress
Of the much beloved sun
Sits lonesome in the sky.

Her love more pure than any mortal kind
Did shine forth with a strong unflinching light
Reflecting her her true and noble self
Undaunted by any doubting voice.

True, Lugraâ,¬,,¢s love was matchless
Save but by her husband Helidh Sun, the Bright.
For Helidh gave to all the earth his care
And blessings of days unchecked by want of sight.

Alas, alas, poor Lugra fair
Night matron and celestial mistress
Of the much beloved sun
Sits lonesome in the sky.

Helidh and Lugra fostered all the world
Caressing all with warmth and gentleness
But all that is good does not last
And love and light would prove not infinite.

The coarse-skinned Mehan-folk
With spears and sticks did boast about their skills.
Unwanted demonstrations of their foolishness
Did brand them badly as they sought repute.

Alas, alas, poor Lugra fair
Night matron and celestial mistress
Of the much beloved sun
Sits lonesome in the sky.

Mehani gone from tribal escutcheon
Off on misadventured quest of manly worth
Betrayal! Murder! Audacious mutiny!
A curse upon the upstart Mehani!

A bolt from Mehan bow did strike the sky
To deal its deadly work upon the sun
The godly blood does nature so oppose
That earth did scream unearthly of the solar slaughter.

Alas, alas, poor Lugra fair
Night matron and celestial mistress
Of the much beloved sun
Sits lonesome in the sky.

And so was Lugraâ,¬,,¢s peerless love deprived
And all-moment-companion sudden gone.
Thus did Lugra weep a storm of tears
To weary all the world with woe.

And Lugraâ,¬,,¢s Tears did flood the plains of Earth
Involuntary decimation consummation
Teardrops one by one did build
Salient tears of saline drop by drop did fill a sea.

Alas, alas, poor Lugra fair
Night matron and celestial mistress
Of the much beloved sun
Sits lonesome in the sky.

And now the Lugradhe-ougre-lendu
Which is the moon weeping waters
Does lie upon the earth
A monument to unforgotten love

And when a tear descends a cheek
And falls to earth we know it said
That doubtless every tear thatâ,¬,,¢s shed
Will join our Lugraâ,¬,,¢s in that Sea.

Alas, alas, poor Lugra fair
Night matron and celestial mistress
Of the much beloved sun
Sits lonesome in the sky.

The Desert is Death

In Spring the sun comes out
And makes its fiery arc across the sky
In Summer the sun comes out
And makes its fiery arc across the sky
In Autumn the sun comes out
And makes its fiery arc across the sky
In Winter the sun comes out
And makes its fiery arc across the sky

In summer human-birds fly away
In winter human-birds return
Spring and Autumn are but Summer's clones
To give a year full complement of days
The sky a dull brown dunny screen of haze
Does block blue sky replacing blue with bland
Makes mere monotony of sky and sand
With monotone un-seasons set with sun ablaze

This sandy sepulcher of elderly content
Provides but two-par element existence
The year long summer winter of our discontent
Has not a quality to serve its recompense.
Nature does not abideth here, nor life:
Foreign palms and stillborn blasted saplings
Populate the barren-land with strife
And stand no tree worth living bird to sing.

Life here is but a solemn elegy
Engraved on the unanimous headstone
Of the elderly ocean, collectively alone
Makes desert home t'enjoy their coffins' carpentry.
Here the living live already dead
False faces front false personality
Naught here can constitute reality--
The only hope: escape and move ahead.

On the Beach

A dormant duo together entwines
And feels a spray of sea-salt on their face,
Here ivy clings where grow no ivy vines
That lies as one in motionless embrace.
Held fast in fervent wordless confidence
A secret known by both yet never said
Will pass between them in their reverence
Sealed by a kiss upon a sandy bed.

A steady crash and flow of waves keeps time
And sets the tempo of the lovers' lay.
To move would have no reason and no rhyme
To two who lie in brightness of the day
Asleep as in the blackest of the nights
Who, would they wake, would be as in a dream
And be as love-curst as by pixie-sprites,
Eyes of Aaron's ligure and sapphire gleam.

With tender clutches they each other greet
To seek a comfort in each other's arms,
And subtle breathing; soft and low and sweet
Affection's testament care love disarms
The two sleep soundly in so fair a vice
As that that love can bind a couple in
And so imprisoned likewise hearts can win
By their contentment and their own devise.

The Life of an Idea
Boundless, the child of the mind meet light
Bawling and screaming in its livelihood
Through no great pain but that it cannot speak.
A virgin to the novelties of sight
Preceding wisdom, doing worldly good
It's frail form the meekest of the meek.
Takes in the sweetest succor milky white,
Gains strength from a nurturing motherhood,
And soon the fluid momentum of a creek.
The child grows and lives among its kin,
Beside its siblings of its mother's womb
Where it runs rampant, raucous in its youth.
Their father is experience, whose thin-
Mouth frowns or smiles as his children bloom
The judge of each one's quality and truth.
Adolescent rebellions begin
Without its father's blessing does it fume'"
Goes out into the world, still grinding tooth.
In time the child grows strong, it's father frail
But embittered, one against the other
They take up arms in challenge filial.
Across the fields of Reason they assail
And fight and bite through all winds and weather
To test advantage: new or ancestral?
The battle rages till one can prevail
The other obscurity shall smother.
To win would be to '˜come material.
A fleeting victory, though I may say:
The mind may fight a million in a day.