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Author Topic: Poetry collection  (Read 240621 times)

corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #735 on: October 24, 2016, 12:58:11 AM »
Pg 624

Again On The Moor, To Make Doubly Sure

The cat scout man stirs,
While it's even still light.
He needs to make sure, there's
A feeling that's not right.

For just a little trek,
Is Lalli heading out.
For reassurance to check,
To remove all and any doubt.

Like there's something he missed,
Something that was nearby.
Needs to retrace steps of his,
Turn his tired eye to the sky.
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He got hit on the head
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corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #736 on: October 25, 2016, 02:18:53 AM »
Pg 625

On The Prowl, Now Run Afoul

He goes to shelters in shade,
Looking past the walls broken.
Inside he should have stayed,
The Finnish man now awoken.

The scout on the search,
Through houses derelict.
He sees upon the walls perch,
Flesh and bones growing thick.

It's a terrible sign, and
In amongst the bones and meat.
It's the spirit equine,
With the hands for the feet.

It with skinless visage,
Shrouded in ethereal plumes.
For now in this mirage,
It means to make this his tomb.
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He got hit on the head
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corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #737 on: October 26, 2016, 02:36:21 AM »
Pg 626

A Creature Is Bound, Didn't Like What He Found

With lidless dark eyes,
The grinning horse skullcap.
The spirit despised,
To the nearest creature snaps.

A ghostly horse bite
Sends a single troll jumping.
But into the bright light,
Sun burn, then retreat slumping.

Now's a good time to run.
To make an escape plan.
In the setting sun,
Run scout, while you can...
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A man left his Icelandic home
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He got hit on the head
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corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #738 on: October 27, 2016, 02:39:27 AM »
Pg 627

Panicked Flurry, Have To Hurry

Back to the comfort,
Loud knocks are heard.
The scout is inserted,
His words panicked, blurred.

A translator sought out,
For the man in a panic.
The agigated most scout,
By ghosts and mass organic.
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A man left his Icelandic home
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He got hit on the head
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corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #739 on: October 28, 2016, 04:00:08 AM »
Pg 628

Soon Hunting Thee, Evil Pedigree

Lalli's face becoming,
More and more frantic.
The dangerous something,
Purest evil gigantic.

A great shadow over cast,
His expression is telling.
Numerous creatures amassed,
With no hope of repelling.

They are as he speaks,
Tightening the noose.
The living what they seek,
Even mage powers no use.

They have to depart,
Or they'll be overrun.
The chase will soon start,
In the setting of the sun.

All anguish and pain,
To flesh and bone all reduced.
In the daylight's wane,
All hell will break loose.

So they put out the fires,
And gather in their awning,
No night-time retire,
Get away from the hell spawning.

In the embers of light,
The cat-tank starts to track.
A smoke-like figure blights,
In a sea of deepest black.

The minutes all too few,
Not a moment to wait.
Awaiting, to pursue,
It will soon flood the gates.
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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:
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Some knowledge: :france: :germany:
Odd word here and there: :japan:

corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #740 on: November 10, 2016, 11:12:48 PM »
Pg 630

Monsters Enslaved, Like A Tidal Wave

An equine spirit rears,
Flame cladded mane.
The shadows lit ere,
Steeple chase unreined.

The physical horde,
Scatters and leaps in angst.
The horror smorgasbord,
Forced pursuing phalanx.

No choice but to move,
Lest they become dust.
The evil, hands for hooves,
And unholy bloodlust.

Travellers beware,
The shade abhorrent.
Or more be ensnared,
All souls for torment.
« Last Edit: November 11, 2016, 03:21:53 AM by corncobman »
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A man left his Icelandic home
Escaped to Denmark to freely roam
With hair braided red
He got hit on the head
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corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #741 on: November 15, 2016, 11:09:30 PM »
Pg 631

Good Enough, Stand Tough

Should they really
Drive through the night?
It's not ideal,
Tuuri seems real uptight.

What if their caught?
Sigrun knows that they will.
To find a good spot,
That field fits the bill.

The trees, no use to hide,
If the monsters already know.
They need open countryside,
So they can go toe-to-toe...

They'll make their stand,
No choice, can't avoid.
In this far Danish land,
They'll fight or be destroyed.

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

Last Defense (based on Monkey Wrench by Foo Fighters)

It's not escape? I'm feeling tense
Driving through the night
It didn't make much sense
Here we make our last defense
Making plans to fight before attacks commence

Round the bend
Round the bend
Round the bend

Here we make our last defense
A horde of monsters that's immense
An open field to burn and cleanse
Here we make our last defense

Coming soon, they will descend
What do we do, is all our fortune up and spent?
No trees as cover to depend
As they gather
Out here, will it be the end?

Round the bend
Round the bend
Round the bend

Here we make our last defense
A horde of monsters that's immense
An open field to burn and cleanse
Here we make our last defense

Whimper
Whimper
Whimper

On this night through thin and thick
There is no exit, no surrender, just fight through it, until their dead
In this place we will make our stand, that's she said
But this vacation somehow makes me sick of it
And all those things will come for me
This was not the way it was meant to be

Here we make our last defense
A horde of monsters that's immense
An open field to burn and cleanse
Here we make our last defense

Here we make our last defense
(Fall in fall out)
Here we make our last defense
(Fall in fall out)
Here we make our last defense
« Last Edit: November 16, 2016, 03:30:00 AM by corncobman »
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A man left his Icelandic home
Escaped to Denmark to freely roam
With hair braided red
He got hit on the head
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Odd word here and there: :japan:

corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #742 on: November 16, 2016, 09:43:40 PM »
Pg 632

For Help, Calling Upon, Spirit Doggone

Reynir is anxious,
He's demoralised.
Lalli passing glances,
When he shuts his eyes.

Now the vehicle stops,
At the battle location.
With weapons, they're dropped,
Readying for the confrontation.

Like a dog chasing a bone,
The spirit hound exposed.
Seeking help all alone,
Dashing with its eyes closed.


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corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #743 on: November 17, 2016, 09:52:01 PM »
Pg 633

Through Doggy Told, They May Not Hold

A disinterested Onni,
Wild mushroom picking.
Until entering, the crony,
Reynir's puppy sidekick in.

An air of confusion,
The barking ball of fur.
Odd animal intrusion,
Strange dog whisperer...

His help is beseeched,
He's called out by name.
Defenses will be breached,
By a troll horde proclaimed.

They have nowhere to run,
They may not have a chance.
A matter of time until,
All the monsters advance...
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A man left his Icelandic home
Escaped to Denmark to freely roam
With hair braided red
He got hit on the head
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Some knowledge: :france: :germany:
Odd word here and there: :japan:

corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #744 on: November 20, 2016, 09:36:24 PM »
Pg 634

A Dream Of Dolour, Dragged By The Collar

As the dream puppy fades,
With a last plea for aid,
On a sofa was Onni laid,
His dreams been pervaded.

He rouses in strain,
With horrible neck pain,
The distant squad insane,
Needs his help once again.

No time now to dwell,
Lalli out of his shell,
Grabs the coat lapels,
Of the Icelandic dumb bell.

Reynir with force is tagged,
Like an extra kit bag.
Surprisingly snagged,
Where and why is he dragged?

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

Open Mind (based on Wilder Mind by Mumford and Sons)

It's in my blood, it's in my nature
You tried to teach me, teach me from the start
Now the danger comes nigh, I feel a great
Loneliness inside my heart

We need to keep moving on
Unlike the rest, I have not been blind
By the light, a mage's son
I had been blessed with an open mind

I have seen countless awful things, alone, nobody else knows
The terrors come and they just won't let me go
And there may be no hope
But we try

Beholden now I find myself awake
Running on the edge again
When the night breaks, we know what's at stake
I hesitate to call you my friends

We need to keep moving on
We now stand the test by the wicked kind
By the light, a mage's son
I had been blessed with an open mind

But I believed, you see, I was fine alone
But I believed, you see, I was fine alone
« Last Edit: November 21, 2016, 12:47:33 AM by corncobman »
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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

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Some knowledge: :france: :germany:
Odd word here and there: :japan:

corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #745 on: November 21, 2016, 09:58:28 PM »
Pg 635

Making Barrier Ring, Reynir Do Your Thing

Medic and cleanser,
Make a border with rope,
For monsters to deter,
Around them it envelopes.

To set it alight,
As a barrier of fire?
But their fuel is finite,
Something else is required.

Lalli drags Reynir out rear,
Pointing at the muddy ground.
His message is unclear,
Waving his finger all around.

He pulls out a sheet,
With a shape drawing crude.
He hopes Reynir will repeat,
The rune drawings, shrewd.

On the ground to plot,
A magic symbol indeed.
Let's hope that he got,
His message well received.
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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:
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Some knowledge: :france: :germany:
Odd word here and there: :japan:

corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #746 on: November 23, 2016, 10:33:47 PM »
Pg 636

Reynir Begone, Battle Lines Drawn

Reynir finally,
Gets Lalli's thoughts.
The mage wannabe,
A chance to help a lot.

That's all they can do,
So prepare for attrition.
The time is now, to
Assume battle positions.

Here's hoping that they,
Are sufficiently thorough.
Ask the gods and pray to
Let them see tomorrow.

Wait, hang on a tick,
Why is Reynir outside?
The irritated medic,
Will again have him tied.

Can Reynir explain,
The mages' rune focus thus?
Will he convince the Dane,
That it's not just hocus-pocus?

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

Battle Drawing (based on London Calling by The Clash)

Battle drawing, to the break of the night
Now war is declared, make ready to fight
Battle drawing, stick etching runes
Go back to the cat tank, you red-headed loon
Battle drawing, now all is prepared
We may not see tomorrow, but I'm not scared
Battle drawing, we've done all we can
'Cept for the crazy non-immune braidy man

The dead horde are coming, the night's looming in
Meltdown expected, the coming dead things
Engines stop running, but I have no fear
'Cause battle is drawing, I'll live or die by it here

Battle drawing, now prepared the zone
Forget it, Reynir, back in you're thrown
Battle drawing, with the zombies of death
We'll be holding while we draw another breath
Battle drawing, pray to the gods
We may not see tomorrow, but let's even the odds
Battle drawing, seeing no spirits nigh
Except for that one with the hollowed out eyes

The rampage is coming, the night's looming in
We have stopped running, we wait for the things
Impending terror, but I have no fear
'Cause battle is drawing, I'll live or die by it here

The rampage is coming, the night's looming in
We have stopped running, we wait for the things
Impending terror, but I have no fear
'Cause battle is drawing, I'll live or die by it here

Now get this

Battle drawing, yes, time to pay our due
An' you know what, I say, my most bestest crew
Battle drawing, maybe our final trial
After all this, will we go out in style?
Battle drawing

I never felt so much alive alive alive alive
« Last Edit: November 24, 2016, 12:16:52 AM by corncobman »
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A man left his Icelandic home
Escaped to Denmark to freely roam
With hair braided red
He got hit on the head
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Some knowledge: :france: :germany:
Odd word here and there: :japan:

corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #747 on: November 24, 2016, 11:38:26 PM »
Pg 637

Out The Sun, Ready Your Gun

Away Reynir's taken,
Out of harm's way.
Soon night a-breaking,
Not a time to play.

Lalli apprising,
The runes in the dirt.
Is he memorizing,
A paper rune to convert?

The four bold warriors,
Climb up onto the roof.
Hoping their barriers
And runes monster-proof.

The insomniac group intend
Their perimeter the trolls scotch.
As the day draws to end,
Perhaps their last night's watch.
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corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #748 on: November 27, 2016, 10:23:02 PM »
Pg 638

Sitting Tight, Fuse Lights

In darkness waiting,
Pupils dilating.
All concentrating, for
Monsters migrating.

Battlers uniting,
Night watch unexciting,
Still ready for smiting,
No flight, just fighting.

Non-immune alienating.
Confined. Frustrating.
Kitty inflating,
Troll senses activating.

Unseen, but felt, blighting,
In the blackness, frightening.
Sudden orange sighting.
The ground starts igniting.
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He got hit on the head
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corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #749 on: November 28, 2016, 09:40:00 PM »
Pg. 639

Fuse Released, RIP Ye Beast

The ground as a mine,
Like a runic grenade.
Engulfed, the beast canine.
He helped, did the Braid.

The perimeter wire tripped,
By the creatures occult.
A firebomb let rip,
With explosive results.

The field was set,
The trap is sprung.
Less one threat,
Undead body parts flung.


« Last Edit: November 28, 2016, 11:28:23 PM by corncobman »
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A man left his Icelandic home
Escaped to Denmark to freely roam
With hair braided red
He got hit on the head
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Fluent: :uk:
Fluent spoken, bad writing: :china:
Some knowledge: :france: :germany:
Odd word here and there: :japan:
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