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Far beyond the mountains, and even past the sea,

there is a place that shouldn’t be.

The air smells funny, and the water tastes foul,

on a sea where sirens still prowl.

Unearthly creatures, that would seem tarradiddle

except you’re living the riddle.


It is oddly unsettling how like us they are.

They have lore and art, though bizarre.

Even merpeople have families and schooling,

some for learning, some for swimming.

Giants, you’ll learn, have a nasty problem with crime,

and so, most die before their time.


For giants, crime is a familial affair,

ordered hits aren’t exactly rare.

Unfortunate chums sometimes end up in the sea

where many sharks join them for tea.

Drowned, with their pockets still full, coins and such debris

lost, in water, dark and ghastly.


If you find these felons in their watery graves

and if you are willing to brave

danger, the deathly cold, creatures of the deep,

then gold, you may secrete.

Only the fortunate and the foolhardy

manage to find this tea party.


I am quite lucky, and I am just such a fool,

each time I go into that pool.

The sharks have become my friends, the anglerfish too.

The sharks enjoy their outlaw stew,

leaving me ‘lone to enjoy my own golden feast.

So, crime does pay, for us at least.


The best part of salvage, is to be had in port

where the pretty ladies hold court.

‘Tis a worthy occupation I much enjoy,

their time and talents I employ.

There’s aught finer than a woman betwixt your legs,

except, maybe, one that ne’er nags.


On shore, there are other extraordinary sights,

like mermen, kept in tanks, for fights.

Caught when they were merboys, they have been kept captive.

I find it rather repulsive,

but the giants run the fights and they’re passing  cruel,

full of avarice as a rule.


In a land of myth, you would hope to find dragons,

huge, fire breathing, gleaming bronze,

jewel encrusted armor, guarding heaps of gold.

Devouring maids, slaying the old.

Magnificent winged lizards, alluring and deadly,

sporting a weak underbelly.


Well, the legend has been embellished, just a bit.

It is true that fire, they emit,

and they look much the same as the legend describes,

‘cept they’re tiny and live in hives.

Hordes of glittering, flying, pompous pickpockets,

mythical plague of the tropics.


There’s so much to see, so much to experience

here. Life’s constant insouciance.

I most highly doubt that I shall ever return,

or indeed ever even yearn

for the far away, somewhat grey, land of my birth.

A citizen of this new earth.


About jaynejackson

I write, because if I didn't, my head would simply become too clogged with ideas and thoughts to function. I'm a bit quirky and in real life I tend to be quite blunt. Most of my writing tends to end up semi dark, but sometimes you can't really control where the story/poem takes you. I write for myself, but I sincerely hope that you'll find some enjoyment in my writing as well.

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