A con review poem and pictures of the New York Comic-Con included.

NYCC redux

The hoard of faces smiled, sneered and looked

away with purple eyes and lips dried by passion

They descended bearing gifts, donned in leather and lace

holstered guns gleaming soft lights dangled by their sides

ancient swords slung across backs weary with waiting

but they found the desired cut.

Orcs and Batman fought over the essence

called autographs as

Wolverine, The cast of Bleach, and Lex Luthor

texted to allies where Bruce Campbell and Stan Lee

were spotted roaming though the last bastion called

the V.I.P. lounge

Loki danced with Thor's friends

as the revelry of Asgard fell among mortals

the rainbow bridge Bifrost was

laid flat upon a stretch of New York City

that day.

Certainly Spider-Man crawled the walls

waiting in line for the bathroom but

few villains, even Dr. Evil, tried to sabotage

the celebration of individuation.

Hayao Miyazaki would have been proud

that Princess Mononoke protected

this forest of dreams as the play

and themes slipped out from the seams.

It was creation.

It was celebration.

It was pageantry.

It was mystery.

It was joy.

There were giveaways.

There were more.

And we, one and all, all and one

put on faces for the faces that we would meet

and through Artist Alley's transient streets

we gorged upon the delight of others who willingly

sacrificed time for our viewing pleasure.

With all good things, an ending is sure to come

but memories with such insolence will

not fade when burned so brightly

from the flash and awe of those

who risk to become gods

even if for only a day.

In the end, a beginning...    

And never get between a chicken and his bounty.

Yes. I posted that photo before

but it 

bears 

repeating.

Cheers!

By Joshua

In the enda beginning