Poetry collection

[corncobman]

Pg 165

On The Witch Hunt, Those Are Sufficient

Now go for collection,
Some items for him.
Lalli with an interjection,
Which is Onni's totem?

The sentinel asks "Who?"
Causing an angry outburst.
The last guy who came through!
Oh! He should've said that first.

"That one." he indicates,
It's still looking spotless.
The sight of which placates
As Onni hasn't caught death.

In one form or another,
Though it's been a while.
He's still alive out there,
In the forest lands hostile.

With a comb and hairband,
Those are good enough.
Whatever is on hand,
Counts as personal stuff?

[corncobman]

Pg 166

Very Dangerous Or Self-Injurious

With cat-totem, brooch and scissors,
All set with their things.
Come back here, visitors,
To avoid great suffering?

To retrieve their items
A good idea regardless.
But the squad leaving them
Isn't totally harmless?

He needs to have a chat
About their weapons.
Very dangerous that, but
It's needed, as it happens.

For a troll killing tool,
Lethality is valued.
But the sentinel's no fool,
Listen to him, you should.

[corncobman]

Pg 167

Super Sensory, Last Resort Weaponry

Better use it sparingly,
The noise'll make you not alive.
Shots would be fine ordinarily,
But there a nasty critter thrives.

Those woods there shelter
The creature 'Surma' christened.
From dozens of kilometers,
Able to find your position.

If they do have to blast
That thing, do not stay.
Change locations real fast,
It's already on its way.

"We'll... keep that in mind."
Mikkel says, unemotional.
Then everything's fine,
"Shoo now." says the sentinel.

[corncobman]

Pg 168

No Worry Embarking, Clear Territory Marking

The first couple of km,
They have nothing to worry.
He keeps it safe and trim,
They'll know the end of his territory.

So the group make their strides,
Deeper, they journey anew.
With the seagull as their guide,
Until the obvious clues.

The boundary line,
With markings well drawn.
You can't miss the sign,
This one's got bells on.

[corncobman]

Pg 169

Danger Out There? Stop And Stare

"Danger: bad creatures outside.
Please close gate after you."
A helpful sign. "'K thanks bye."
And then off the seagull flew.

They're on their own again,
She says to Lalli: "Lead the way!"
He has no reaction, then.
What's his expression on display?

To the most best leader's order,
The cat scout does not comply.
At the territory border,
His mage senses gone awry?

[corncobman]

Pg 170

Mad Lad Makes, Sudden Shakes

Setting forth hither,
A fell wind has blown?
Getting the shivers
For reasons unknown.

Sensed danger, did he?
Just felt anomalous.
The air felt creepy
And not dangerous.

Reflexes involuntary,
Unnerving quavers.
The feeling momentary,
Concerning behaviour.

It left him stunned,
Washed over like a wave.
Like something or someone
Walking over his grave.

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

Pg 171

Weird Phenomenon, False Alarm Drawn

Does Lalli too sense,
How weird the air is?
Can't get his intents,
Is it not apparent?

But all of a sudden,
There is a change.
The man all a shudder,
Feeling most strange.

There can't be anything
Dangerous too close by.
Not worried looking,
Kitty is pacified.

They can keep going,
What's done is done.
No reason showing,
A false alarm everyone.

[Jitter]

And now for something completely different!

This was in response to Róisín, who challenged ScottishNottish to write something cheery for change. Not related to any page in particular.

The troll under the table
Drinking song

You can fight and you can wrestle
You use your sword and you cause a hassle
When you lead we can swarm a castle
But can you drink a troll under the table?

You can smuggle yourself on ships
Your fylgja gives you some good tips
The powerful runes are in your grips
But can you drink a troll under the table?

You can run fast and hide and scout
Bad and loud noises may make you pout
From any tight spot you can get us out
But can you drink a troll under the table?

You make things go boom in the air
You have wonderful golden hair
Your hand is fast and your heart is fair
But can you drink a troll under the table?

You can mend us, our wounds you heal
You can’t really cook but we’ve learned to deal
You balance our team with your nerves of steel
But can you drink a troll under the table?

You are Grade B no mere amateur
You warn us by hissing and puffy fur
We can rest easy whenever you purr
But can you drink a troll under the table?

As a this team we stand or sink
Together we travel to Tuonela’s brink
But tonight we rest and we sing and drink
But first lets kill the troll under the table!

(I write one drinking song among many other pieces and it is the first to go to the archive here, of course )

[Róisín]

It’s funny and good!

[corncobman]

Pg 172

Some Thing Caught The Eye, Same Path As The Guy

Over hills and dales
The group quietly wended.
Until they come to a trail,
A clearing of trees upended.

Lalli turns to view,
Interrupting their stomp.
Reynir's speed not reduced,
Chin meets head with a BOMP.

At least they know, well then,
They're on the same path as him.
The time better be well spent,
Or Sigrun will perhaps stab 'im.

[corncobman]

Pg 173

Savage At Heart, Had Her At Art

Carved animal hides,
Corpses, strung limbs.
Pulled taut like kites,
And chimes in the wind.

Cadavers in parts,
Deboned and skinned.
She likes this art,
A certain savagery twinned.

Beneath the grim sights,
Under the anatomy hoisted,
Making camp here for the night,
They don't have a choice.

[Róisín]

DOGBEAST

Suddenly the dog remembers.
Where a shaft of sunlight falls
Glinting on the water lying
Glittering through the empty halls.

She remembers kindly masters,
Human beings who held her dear.
Loving folk who brushed her gently,
Kept her safe from want and fear.

Humans like the one she hunted
Much against her own true will,
Through the schoolhouse, driven, haunted
By the mad desire to kill.......

Later that night the dog is dying
Remembering days of long before
When she'd race to meet the children
Spilling from the schoolhouse door.

Laughter in the soft rain falling
From a sky still full of light
Little hands that stroked and patted
Little arms that hugged her tight.

Death, come soon! Before the clearing
Gap in cloud can close again
While still echoes in her hearing
Children laughing in the rain.

The recent page, with its reminder of the ritual Lalli performed for the dogbeast, reminded me that way back then I wrote a poem for that poor dog. I never posted it at the time, both because of major difficulties with the posting process overall, and because I’m not even sure there was a poetry thread back then, though it must have started sometime therearound. So having found it again, I shall put it up here, several years late.

[corncobman]

Pg 174

Move Out Of The Scene? No, Drama Queen

Out of the slaughter scene's frame
Can they not at least move?
"Come on!" Emil exclaims,
But safety dad disapproves.

No, this is a good spot,
A camp there was laid.
No troll nests have they got,
And water, they have it made!

So get the poles and sheets and
Pitching the tents bespoke,
Blowing fire goes the Swede and
A brush goes black in strokes.

Off the Icelandic goes,
Making his signs attuned.
Just one tiny problem though,
Shoe prints make up the rune?

[Jitter]

Róisín, your lovely dog song made me cry! It captures that moment in the comic, but also the beauty of dogs. And the sadness of the situation of the world in Y90. It’s perfect.

[Róisín]

Thank you! Glad I could finally get it up here.

[corncobman]

Pg 175

Dashes Of Paint, Enlightened They Ain't

Loops round his boot,
His magic brush sweeps.
Camp edge grass roots,
With a dagger reaped.

Does Reynir have insight
To the lost's whereabouts?
As he takes a bite,
"Nope, not really." he spouts.

Does Lalli, the scout,
Have any more of a clue?
"I don't think so." he lets out,
Directionless are the two.

They're banking, he supposes,
On sensing his presence.
If they happen to be close,
Just blind luck in essence.