Author Topic: Poetry collection  (Read 207160 times)

corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #975 on: March 06, 2018, 12:31:03 AM »
Pg 868

Her Worry Must Banish, But The Tracks Vanish

"I'll be vigilant,
You won't need to worry."
Mikkel says while indifferent,
Then in Reynir scurries.

To trail behind now so,
Is the Icelander not keen?
"No." Reynir says, although
The trail goes sideways, he's seen.

His eyes follow the prints of a canid,
Off into the woods they track.
But suddenly they have vanished,
As if a physical body it lacks.
« Last Edit: March 06, 2018, 04:40:05 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 #976 on: March 07, 2018, 09:26:34 PM »
Pg 869

Chasing A Tail, Follow The Trail

Reynir's eyes of horoscopy,
Do stare at the paws.
Were these a real-life puppy,
Or by a more mystical cause?

In his mind's eye,
Images superimpose.
His fylgia ally,
Leading him by the nose.

In his reminiscence,
The Icelandic man stood.
Looking into the distance,
Deep through the woods.

The realisation,
That way he must go.
Get the others by persuasion,
Or travel there solo...?
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 #977 on: March 08, 2018, 09:52:32 PM »
Pg 870

Not Close Supervision, Catch That Pigeon

Reynir recollected,
He can't make a decision.
Remaining disconnected,
Attention span like a pigeon!

"Chop chop, long legs" ordered,
Hurry up there, please!
The man just ignored her,
Suddenly dashed into the trees.

"AAAA!!!" she calls in surprise,
At the Icelandic man's darting.
Right in front of their eyes,
He's distractedly departing.

"NO! STOP!!!" Sigrun shouts,
"MIKKEL GET HIM!!!" continues.
They have to retrieve him, no doubt,
Or they'll have major issues!
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 #978 on: March 11, 2018, 11:23:51 PM »
Pg 871

Kitty Hold Tight, His Chance To Make Things Right

Mikkel makes for Reynir,
Causing Sigrun to tip.
The change in speed severe
Enough to lose her grip.

Onward, without pause,
Deeper the mage dashes
In kitty digs her claws,
Causing deep scratches.

Separating to explore
The place in his thoughts.
Sprinting futhermore,
For the answers he sought.

This has to be it,
His chance for redemption.
But what if his flit
Was cause by misconception?
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 #979 on: March 14, 2018, 11:09:28 PM »
Pg 872

From Trees He Emerged, Finding The Church

Running too fast,
Away from his team.
Finding at last,
The church of his dream.

His hand on a tree,
As he takes it all in.
To find some release,
From death and violence.

But now, what to do?
What to tell the rest?
If only they knew
Which dreams to him blest.

What does he say and
Will they believe him?
Does he part ways for the
Long lost lady of preaching?

-------------------------------

Pg 873

Of Prayers And Psalms, Kitty Alarm Calm

The mage rejoiced,
It's the place that he sought.
Then the kitty he hoists,
He's glad she was brought.

He needs to go inside,
Needs to know if it's secure.
Licking her paws with pride,
With that, it's ensured.

No puffing or hissing means
There's no monsters hidden.
Nothing amiss in this scene,
As he opens the doors wooden.

Quiet as he makes his entry,
Nothing apparent astir.
Looking empty, incidentally,
Will he find the ghostly pastor?
« Last Edit: March 19, 2018, 12:02:59 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

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #980 on: March 15, 2018, 10:35:27 PM »
Pg 874

Panic Manifest, Bones Laid To Rest

The church, though bright,
Is less tidy than in memory.
But it's been out of sight,
For nearly a century.

He says "at least there aren't... any"
'Dead bodies' was going to say.
But he spotted some of many
Desiccated skeletons laid.

He retreats in panic,
Strangled noises in shock.
The red-headed man shamanic
Arresting his forward walk.
« Last Edit: March 19, 2018, 12:03:11 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 #981 on: March 18, 2018, 11:55:45 PM »
Pg 875

"Reynir?" From Inside, Shepherd Be Your Guide

He sees something ahead,
Cause to be startled.
A door swathed in red,
Boils and bubbles mottled.

Sounds from the room,
As closer he came.
Inner voices of whom,
Calling out Reynir's name...

The handle he reaches,
Opening the door slowly.
To see the lost preacher,
To find the rector holy.

At long-awaited last, there,
His objective is closer.
He has discovered A Pastor,
But maybe not as he knows her.
« Last Edit: March 19, 2018, 12:03:24 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 #982 on: March 19, 2018, 10:36:26 PM »
Pg 876

Far From His Vision, Full Of Indecision

A mass of meat and tubes.
This sight greets the man.
Thus they're introduced,
So much for that plan...

In the centre, a head,
Barely recognisable as such.
Closing the door instead,
The sight was just too much.

His hand on the door,
Full of indecision.
What is he waiting for,
From mass of flesh imprisoned?

---------------------------------

Brought into the light,
Through the crevice spied.
A chilling, gruesome plight,
By sinewed tethers tied.

In the church uncovered,
He thought salvation found.
Inside, instead suffered,
Rotten flesh, a soul was bound.
« Last Edit: March 20, 2018, 11:47:04 PM 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 #983 on: March 21, 2018, 10:40:42 PM »
Pg 877

Lack Of Tantrum, How Come?

Outside the door, he
Stands in disillusion.
But calm is the kitty,
He asks in confusion.

"Why aren't you freaking out?"
Unusual absence of friction.
A monster without doubt,
But with some benediction.

As he stands wondering,
About the lack of prompts,
With footsteps thundering,
Just then, in Mikkel klomps.
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 #984 on: March 22, 2018, 11:45:42 PM »
Pg 878

What's Wrong In Your Head? Moron, Brain-Dead!

As Mikkel regains breath,
"You insolent little child!"
Nearly scared Sigrun to death,
Running off into the wild.

She's ill already, and
Near gave her a heart attack, you.
"You brain dead-moron!", Braidy
Near gave Mikkel a heart attack too!

"Let's not resort",
He says, "to hyperbole."
The conversation he exhorts,
Statements of mendacity.
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 #985 on: March 25, 2018, 11:05:17 PM »
Pg 879

Firmly Standin', He Won't Abandon

Sigrun does threaten,
To cut off his braid.
A word he hardly gets in,
But he remains unafraid.

"Hey!" he firmly stands,
There will be no submission.
He says "I'm sorry I ran..."
"I've seen this in two visions!"

The importance he stresses,
So he will not be vacating.
So staunchly he professes,
That the pair he leaves gaping.

This place holds the key,
To banishing the spirits vile.
Not going anywhere is the braidy,
Until he has passed this trial.

So Mikkel informs Sigrun,
About this place and its ties.
It looks as though everyone
In town just came here to die.
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 #986 on: March 26, 2018, 11:48:17 PM »
Pg 880

Everyone, Except One, Stop, Sigrun!

From Mikkel's observation,
The church as depicted,
A last stand infirmary station,
It was for the afflicted.

The medic detects there,
A familiar object is found.
The faulty cure injector,
He picks up off the ground.

Should this not indicate,
Some more spirit presence?
That possibility Reynir eliminates.
Every one is gone, in essence.

But there is a caveat,
There is one still remaining,
Sigrun tries to jump at,
But she Reynir is restraining.
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 #987 on: March 28, 2018, 11:09:33 PM »
Pg 881

Context Clues, Most Best Defused

Her she cannot kill,
He says to the Nordic.
They have need of her skills,
So don't be so war-quick.

Don't kill whatever's in there,
Sigrun gets that from context.
See? Kitty's not scared,
There's no alarming reflex.

She was the main mage of this,
This house spiritual.
She must be able to assist
The old world souls residual.

This must be the reason,
Are there none left remaining.
These are the keys and
For the night, here they're staying.
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 #988 on: March 30, 2018, 01:25:12 AM »
Pg 882

Does He Think It A Blunder? Not If He's Outnumbered...

As day draws to close,
Twilight in the land.
The Icelandic does doze,
A discussion at hand.

"So.. you believe Reynir
Knows what he's doing?"
He has no clue, it's unclear,
No better ideas accruing.

Sigrun wasn't so keen,
On leading ghosts to the ship.
Does the medic think it means,
A horrible end to their trip?

He's a glass half-full guy,
He'll give anything a chance.
Such as if he's outnumbered, like
He is in this circumstance.
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 #989 on: April 02, 2018, 11:03:02 AM »
Pg 883

No Dying Without Trying, Abomination Horrifying

At least they can say they tried,
Even if he turns out to be wrong.
Not acceptable to give up and die,
Her life was right to prolong.

"You found your way!"
"I never doubted that you would."
Says in the dream Pastor A.
In the church window she stood.

So she turned into a troll,
A ghastly abomination, yes.
Can she still perform her role,
So transformed the priestess?
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: