Author Topic: Poetry collection  (Read 206989 times)

corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #885 on: August 30, 2017, 11:03:55 PM »
Pg 779

Lalli-do? Where Are You?

On a float of ice,
The kneeling and comatose.
Lalli paid the price,
Further into water he goes.

His name again and again,
The frightened partner calls.
As his part-time mage friend,
Deeper and deeper falls.

"Say something! Anything!"
What did Lalli do?
To open water, floating.
With a shattered world view...
A man left his Icelandic home
Escaped to Denmark to freely roam
With hair braided red
He got hit on the head
With a crate lid slammed onto his dome

Fluent: :uk:
Fluent spoken, bad writing: :china:
Some knowledge: :france: :germany:
Odd word here and there: :japan:

corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #886 on: August 31, 2017, 10:52:56 PM »
Pg 780

Breakaway Floe, To Ocean They Go

The cleanser Swede,
With his fallen friend.
Heading with speed
Off the deep end.

A whimpering Emil,
"Help", weakly pleaded.
On the waves none too still,
Drifting unimpeded.

On journey untoward,
Into waters open.
With thin ice-d floor
Slips away all his hopin'

An unlucky break,
Casualty ill-afforded.
In the battle's wake,
Patience not well rewarded.
A man left his Icelandic home
Escaped to Denmark to freely roam
With hair braided red
He got hit on the head
With a crate lid slammed onto his dome

Fluent: :uk:
Fluent spoken, bad writing: :china:
Some knowledge: :france: :germany:
Odd word here and there: :japan:

corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #887 on: September 06, 2017, 01:40:34 AM »
Still page 780

Cat Lalli's Last Stand
(based on Achilles' Last Stand by Led Zeppelin)

It was a winter morning when they told us we should go
As we turned to you, you called at me
Why did you say no?

Without the time to have, suffer the dreams you always had
Oh, the many things, no air or space to burn again

Asking what fresh hell is this? To those waves down below
Inside the streets that steam and hiss,
The devils in dark holes

Oh, to sail away, from broken ice to open waves
Oh, to cry and scream, ride the ride, now swept up stream

Into the sea, the south the north, like glass we two are thrown
Tentacles of defilement fell, in pieces all around

Oh, to ride the sheet, to tread the bare crystal so thin
Oh, a futile shout, dying as we're ferried out 

To bleak ocean whose vast expanse, the giant struck us cold
Behind us from the chosen path, conscripted into foam

Feline fell tiring, an altercation too taxing
So vast the broken sheet, gave out, the ice beneath our feet

Waves go by, now you and I, dazed, to eternal waters so
As far away and distant, our separation grows

Oh, the fear again, another blow, and yet more pain
Oh, all is gone and drained, sleeping now to rise again

Wondering & wondering, what place could be much worse
The plight of man so luckless, from a blessing to a curse

The plight of man so luckless, from a blessing to a curse
To a curse...

Waves flow away, flow away, flow away, flow away
Waves flow away, flow away, flow away, flow away

Oh, the plight of man so luckless, from a blessing to a curse

Oh, the plight of man so luckless, from a blessing to a curse
A man left his Icelandic home
Escaped to Denmark to freely roam
With hair braided red
He got hit on the head
With a crate lid slammed onto his dome

Fluent: :uk:
Fluent spoken, bad writing: :china:
Some knowledge: :france: :germany:
Odd word here and there: :japan:

corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #888 on: September 07, 2017, 10:47:48 PM »
Pg 781

From Wind And Cold, Cat Sleeper-Hold

Out of the wind shear,
The bedraggled pair.
Neither fully here,
Or altogether there.

With scout under wing,
The exhausted Swede droops.
From the wet and cold stinging,
Some place to recoup.

A building derelict
In which to take rest.
The two sodden and licked,
Body and mind, both a mess.

Frozen to the core,
Hindering their progress.
Hope there are no more
Of those uninvited guests.
A man left his Icelandic home
Escaped to Denmark to freely roam
With hair braided red
He got hit on the head
With a crate lid slammed onto his dome

Fluent: :uk:
Fluent spoken, bad writing: :china:
Some knowledge: :france: :germany:
Odd word here and there: :japan:

corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #889 on: September 11, 2017, 11:30:54 PM »
Pg 782

Growing impatience,
The pair are no-shows.
To this situation,
Vehemently opposed.

To worry, it's too early,
So says the stoic doc.
The Danish medic burly,
Tries to behave like a rock.

The scout will know
How to find a safe place.
As their campfire's aglow,
No worry on Mikkel's face.

With the Finn's skills,
He stays nerveless and steady.
If her looks could kill,
Sigrun would've done so already...
A man left his Icelandic home
Escaped to Denmark to freely roam
With hair braided red
He got hit on the head
With a crate lid slammed onto his dome

Fluent: :uk:
Fluent spoken, bad writing: :china:
Some knowledge: :france: :germany:
Odd word here and there: :japan:

corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #890 on: September 13, 2017, 10:24:38 PM »
Pg 783

Discussion Ends, 'Business' To Attend

"Don't go seeking
For them tonight."
Is Mikkel speaking
As if she's not bright?

Sigrun will not,
As she knows the rules.
She may be hot, but
She's nobody's fool.

Tomorrow she'll backtrack,
If they do not show.
Accepting this feedback,
Mikkel gets up to 'go'...

However Reynir,
Prevents his evacuation.
"Stop! Not over there!"
What is his recommendation?
A man left his Icelandic home
Escaped to Denmark to freely roam
With hair braided red
He got hit on the head
With a crate lid slammed onto his dome

Fluent: :uk:
Fluent spoken, bad writing: :china:
Some knowledge: :france: :germany:
Odd word here and there: :japan:

corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #891 on: September 14, 2017, 10:32:51 PM »
Pg 784

Ghosts Set Up Shop, Bathroom Break Stopped

Inside the wrecked vehicle,
Ghosts have taken residence.
Mikkel remains cynical,
No empirical evidence.

The spirits set up camp,
Inside the old van wrecked.
Many dark souls damned,
Although only he can detect.

What is going on?
What is Reynir saying?
The farmer with the brawn's,
Toilet visit belaying.

Informing the Dane,
That ghosts are nearby.
With a face like he's insane,
As if his words are a lie.

Both Reynir and the dumb cat,
Their remaining defence.
So take notice of that,
Even if they're quite dense...
A man left his Icelandic home
Escaped to Denmark to freely roam
With hair braided red
He got hit on the head
With a crate lid slammed onto his dome

Fluent: :uk:
Fluent spoken, bad writing: :china:
Some knowledge: :france: :germany:
Odd word here and there: :japan:

corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #892 on: September 18, 2017, 12:40:09 AM »
Pg 785

Where May I Go? Icily Row

Mikkel's arms raised, ironical.
Question in derisive tone.
Surely the man of protocol,
Should be less sarcasm-prone?

Where may he discharge?
He says that way is fine.
The apathetic man large,
A new direction consigned.

The leader can scarcely
Believe their hapless lot.
Sigrun saying so tersely,
Reynir's all that they've got.

Elsewhere, the toughest trial,
With misfortune saddled.
A man yet all the while,
Rowing with not a paddle.
A man left his Icelandic home
Escaped to Denmark to freely roam
With hair braided red
He got hit on the head
With a crate lid slammed onto his dome

Fluent: :uk:
Fluent spoken, bad writing: :china:
Some knowledge: :france: :germany:
Odd word here and there: :japan:

corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #893 on: September 18, 2017, 11:39:40 PM »
Pg 786

Seawater Almost Drank, Now Up The Snow Bank

Lalli lies on the ice floor
Only time may cure his ills.
Emil paddles with an ice oar
By sheer strength of will.

Making safely to shore,
In blustery wind chills.
Ere they freeze to the core,
Get up that snow hill.
« Last Edit: September 19, 2017, 01:19:05 AM by corncobman »
A man left his Icelandic home
Escaped to Denmark to freely roam
With hair braided red
He got hit on the head
With a crate lid slammed onto his dome

Fluent: :uk:
Fluent spoken, bad writing: :china:
Some knowledge: :france: :germany:
Odd word here and there: :japan:

corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #894 on: September 21, 2017, 12:59:50 AM »
Pg 787

Door Bust, Needs Must

On damp ground sprawling,
Sodden, completely bushed.
After paddling and hauling,
Rest, then again he must push.

From the elements blowing,
Find shelter to protect.
They have to keep going,
Before hypothermia's effects.

A faint lonely street,
Distance unbelievable.
Lumbered with dragging feet,
Laboriously reachable.

On the derelict door,
Emil's mighty arms wrest.
From the wall it tore,
Needs must, time-pressed.
A man left his Icelandic home
Escaped to Denmark to freely roam
With hair braided red
He got hit on the head
With a crate lid slammed onto his dome

Fluent: :uk:
Fluent spoken, bad writing: :china:
Some knowledge: :france: :germany:
Odd word here and there: :japan:

corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #895 on: September 21, 2017, 11:04:32 PM »
Pg 788

Wait Here. Emil Will Peer

In the entrance,
Peering into the hall.
No sign of a presence,
Lalli can be installed.

Laying him floor-wise,
Wait here, he'll go check.
The cleanser will apprise,
With the scout on the deck.

His hands on his rifle,
As he surveys cranny and nook.
But neither cat's eyeful,
Nor with magic can he look.

Round corners, windows and
Through the hallways seeing.
With the Finn in limbo land,
It seems safe. For the time being.
A man left his Icelandic home
Escaped to Denmark to freely roam
With hair braided red
He got hit on the head
With a crate lid slammed onto his dome

Fluent: :uk:
Fluent spoken, bad writing: :china:
Some knowledge: :france: :germany:
Odd word here and there: :japan:

corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #896 on: September 24, 2017, 11:17:02 PM »
Pg 789

Boards Collected, Sofa Heat-Deflected

Raising some boards,
Armed with a bundle.
A lack of a landlord,
He's free to be a vandal.

Emil snaps underfoot,
For easier kindling.
His fuel on them put,
A bonfire in the building.

He lights the tinder
And covers up the cat.
But there'll be no indoor
Evening fire-side chat.
A man left his Icelandic home
Escaped to Denmark to freely roam
With hair braided red
He got hit on the head
With a crate lid slammed onto his dome

Fluent: :uk:
Fluent spoken, bad writing: :china:
Some knowledge: :france: :germany:
Odd word here and there: :japan:

corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #897 on: September 25, 2017, 11:04:54 PM »
Pg 790

Drying Coat And Mitts, Snooze A Bit

Hang jacket and gauntlets
On a clothesline to dry.
Emil only wanted,
For him to open his eyes.

Sufficiently thorough,
Painstaking care.
Perhaps on the morrow,
He'll be awake and aware.

But now the caretaker
Leans back for snooze.
'Til morning breaks there,
For the night is excused.
« Last Edit: September 29, 2017, 01:34:19 AM by corncobman »
A man left his Icelandic home
Escaped to Denmark to freely roam
With hair braided red
He got hit on the head
With a crate lid slammed onto his dome

Fluent: :uk:
Fluent spoken, bad writing: :china:
Some knowledge: :france: :germany:
Odd word here and there: :japan:

corncobman

  • Ruler of a Derelict Airport
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  • Weirdsmith
  • Posts: 1288
Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #898 on: September 27, 2017, 10:31:02 PM »
Pg 791

Seer's Far Sight, Dream Forest Of Light

In glow of flame
The cleanser sleeps
The cat mage the same
But in much more deep

The trio estranged
Remainder of the squad
In a row arranged
Like peas in a pod

Sigrun's furrow-eyed
Her worry for her team
She cannot hide
Even in her dream

Reynir weak of mind
Fainter of heart
Again does he find
His inherent art

Forest of light
In spirit divine
A radiance bright
Like a beacon shine
« Last Edit: September 29, 2017, 01:33:59 AM by corncobman »
A man left his Icelandic home
Escaped to Denmark to freely roam
With hair braided red
He got hit on the head
With a crate lid slammed onto his dome

Fluent: :uk:
Fluent spoken, bad writing: :china:
Some knowledge: :france: :germany:
Odd word here and there: :japan:

corncobman

  • Ruler of a Derelict Airport
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  • Posts: 1288
Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #899 on: September 29, 2017, 01:33:03 AM »
Pg 792

Ground Of Frost, Wanderer Lost

Approaching the trees,
Via way of pools.
In an air of cold freeze,
White wisps, currents cool.

The saddened man,
Briefly closed his eyes.
With a wave of his hand,
The barrier compromised.

Follows not the rules,
Of the fortifications.
The gifts of the fool,
Allow for their negation.

A blanketed sheet,
On the surrounding floor.
Pale frost underfeet,
Entering further more.

Predisposition shattered.
No longer so carefree.
While the squad is scattered,
Calling out for Onni.
A man left his Icelandic home
Escaped to Denmark to freely roam
With hair braided red
He got hit on the head
With a crate lid slammed onto his dome

Fluent: :uk:
Fluent spoken, bad writing: :china:
Some knowledge: :france: :germany:
Odd word here and there: :japan: