Poetry collection

[corncobman]

Pg 683

 Reynir All Alone, Onni Throw Him A Bone

The ghosts, he whines,
He has no way to defend.
Needs intervention divine,
No sign of their lady friend.

Onni can help, maybe?
He says he can't, firmly.
Deep down, already,
He knew, didn't he...

He doesn't know why
He came to that spot.
Things going awry,
In a dilemma caught.

Reynir was frightened,
The Icelandic rune-smith.
No one enlightened
To talk about it with.

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

Corncobman, your poems are so nice! It's astonishing how you can come up with a new, fitting one with every single page.

Hear, hear.  You are not working in a vacuum.

Thanks very much. I'm glad you like them so much.

I'm very flattered.

[corncobman]

Pg 684

To The Youth, Some Harsh Truths

If what he thinks is true,
Help she eventually would,
But if she doesn't pull through,
Then she wasn't any good.

These things may turn out,
Better for you, but
Simply, there's nowt,
Sometimes, anyone can do.

The wise mage imparts his
Cold, hard truths in this case.
The world basically is
Such a terrible place.

The world isn't nice.
The world isn't fair.
If they took his advice,
They'd be much better prepared...

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

If I Ever Lose My Way To You
(based on If I Ever Lose My Faith In You by Sting)

You could say I lost my faith in myself and the others
You could say I lost my belief in the universe
You could say I lost my sense of direction
You could say all of this and worse but

If I ever lose my way to you
There'd be nothing left for me to do

Some would say I was a lost man in a lost world
You could say I lost my faith in the magic runes
You could say I'd lost my belief in our survival
It just seems like inevitable doom

If I ever lose my way to you
There'd be nothing left for me to do

I could be lost inside their lies
Without a trace
But every time I close my eyes
I'm in this place

I've always been the receiver of fortune
But it's gone from a blessing to a curse
Now you tell me there's sometimes no solution
I just want to keep screaming until I burst but
Let me say this first

If I ever lose my way to you
(If I ever lose my way to you)
There'd be nothing left for me to do
(There'd be nothing left for me to do)

If I ever lose my way
If I ever lose my way
If I ever lose my way
If I ever lose my way
To you...

[corncobman]

Pg 685

Can't Agree, Different Philosophy

Ever the optimist,
Reynir can't agree.
Though his way in mist,
The positives he can see.

But the owl mage rebukes,
That's why he's in this state.
With a pessimist's look,
Everything's full of hate.

It's hard to remain,
Positive in the face.
When strife and sorrow reign,
Lives and sanity erased.

But would this all change
His life outlook positive?
Will he be estranged,
Like Onni, no hoots to give?

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

Look Kid (Slip Kid by The Who)

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight ...

I've got my horror, sadness
World of desperation
Yeah, we can never win this war
I've got my losses, my memories
I'm swallowed in the pain
Shiver at all the things I saw

Look kid, look kid, no exaggeration
You'd be crying at all I've seen
Look kid, look kid, alienation
There's no easy way to be free
No easy way to be free

It's a hard, hard world

I left my family's location
The sorrow always finds me
I left for lands afar
I left my life way back
Saw my friends all get butchered
Let the joy change into scars

Look kid, look kid, only desolation,
The world, is all can be
Look kid, look kid, I'm a relation
I'm a soldier at sixty-three
No easy way to be free

Look kid, look kid

It's not so bad, old man, you won't spook me
You and your sadness doesn't suit me
I might have been all frightened, but I will prevail
I'm not affected by your world tales
You won't derail me

I've got my struggles, knowledge
World of deprivation
Yeah, you can witness what's in store
I've got my turmoil, grievances
Nothing I can explain
Shiver at all the things I saw

Look kid, look kid, look out your bubble
Look over here, what do you see?
Look kid, look kid, only ruination
You're slidin' down the slope like me

No easy way to be free
No easy way to be free
No easy way to be free

[corncobman]

Pg 686

Rapid Degradation, A Prison Of Damnation

What becomes of the soul
In a diseased condition?
When illness takes its toll,
To eternal perdition...

It's understood and agreed,
That it's trapped in the frame.
Memories and will recede,
Never again being the same.

Confusion and hostility,
Is what awaits the soul inside.
Rehabilitation is futility,
And many before have tried.

Friends, loved ones, forgotten,
In quick deterioration.
Trapped in vessel rotten,
Life-changing alterations.

The Finnish, however, believe,
Souls still need to be guided.
Wandering endless, no reprieve,
If final rest is not provided.

Dangerous regardless,
Such is soul guiding, despite.
Until they have departed,
They need magic spells, runes and rites.

[corncobman]

Cat wallpaper page

Soundly Sleeping, Posse Peace-keeping

Cat change-d crew-mates,
Sleeping soundly in shade.
Resting to recuperate,
Unawares, untroubled, unswayed.

Grouped gentle on grass green,
Cozy, circular, curled.
Sprawled, soothingly, serene,
Without worries of the world.

Napping nonchalant, no noise,
Shaded from the sunbeams.
A picture perfect in poise,
Dozing deep in their dreams...

[Anna]

Cat wallpaper page

Soundly Sleeping, Posse Peace-keeping

Cat change-d crew-mates,
Sleeping soundly in shade.
Resting to recuperate,
Unawares, untroubled, unswayed.

Grouped gentle on grass green,
Cozy, circular, curled.
Sprawled, soothingly, serene,
Without worries of the world.

Napping nonchalant, no noise,
Shaded from the sunbeams.
A picture perfect in poise,
Dozing deep in their dreams...

Purr-fect!

[corncobman]

Pg 687

Tints of Blue-Green, Peaceful, Yet Gloomy Scene

Shades of green-blue,
With bright orange hints.
A peaceful set of hues,
but with some fiery glints.

Birds through the sky streak,
Like a migration or such.
Across wooded path and creek,
Managed the vehicle to budge.

Through the fog, through the gloom,
No more delays to afford.
At last they can resume,
Forge a path ever forward.

[corncobman]

Pg 688

Hook, Line And Rod, Caught A Poor Sod

The pair of somewhat mates
Try their hands at the hook.
Emil succeeds without bait,
Going again for more to cook.

Lalli is preoccupied,
With the one that he's got.
Seemingly dissatisfied,
At the single redfin caught.

Again Emil's line is cast,
But his hook hits a snag.
His good luck didn't last,
Caught himself in his drag.

Not just for himself catching,
But for the others too.
Like a magnet, hook attaching,
An unfortunate miscue.

[corncobman]

Pg 689

A Hook He's Wearing, Unsuccessful Repairing

Struggling, looked,
Futility pulled,
Still fishing hooked,
In vain, Swedish fool.

Asking for help now,
The sparkly haired fop,
Lalli don't give a cow,
Into bucket dropped.

While head in hands,
The mechanical skald.
They're still stranded,
Repairs are still stalled.

Even less successful,
Than the pair fishing fly.
Repairs much more stressful,
Escapes a deep sigh.

[corncobman]

Pg 690

Thing Is Still Bust, Walk They Must?

Seems there's no way,
To get repairs sorted
Been days upon days,
Have they been thwarted?

It's time to consider,
Preparing to walk.
The time starts to fritter,
At this Mikkel baulks.

It's not that desperate,
For that plan to enact.
It's not yet time for it,
Impatiently, Sigrun reacts.

They need now plan B!
As far as she's involved.
Mikkel does not agree,
Will this quarrel resolve?

[corncobman]

Pg 691

No Hurry Somewhat, See The Guys Caught

She's close, she swears,
To repair the rover.
Just need to get their
Engine to turn over...

No pressure from here,
Mikkel's in no hurry.
Unlike the leader dear,
But he says, "No need to worry."

He knows the possibility,
Of an eventual trek.
Exuding calm and civility,
Keep her impatience in check.

Plan B is not opposed,
If push comes to shove.
Let's see how it goes,
Now speaking of...

The Finn and Swede pair
Return with their catch.
Is Emil still ensnared,
Could the hook he detach?

[corncobman]

Pg 692

Why? Are Stocks Running Dry?

The cleanser asks why
They have to go fish.
Will they run out of supply
Of their sludge-like dish?

It's just to supplement
Their conventional wares.
To the chef, no compliments,
What exactly is in there?

If only Emil knew,
The hidden cooking facts,
That their mealtime stew
Is mainly candle wax.

Nothing inedible,
Just not tasting good.
It's just incredible,
What can pass as their food.

Is he able to swallow,
The nutritional information?
It's melted tallow,
Or would he rather starvation?

Seems Lalli is averse
To the swill they're eating.
His complexion gets worse,
Like his stomach is retreating...


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Pg 693

Cookie Smothered, Braidy Bothered

A cookie, yes?
But he stares and sighs.
Into his face pressed,
Biscuit brutalized!

Some kind of depression,
His hands hold, iron cast.
Leaving such an impression,
He's not allowed to fast!

While he sits, miffed,
Mikkel feeds the rest.
His spirits don't lift,
Munched in silent protest.

There's an alternate,
Who's sad and downbeat.
Icelandic forced inmate,
Raising up his sad feet.

[corncobman]

Pg 694

Not Depressed, Just Regrets

Dinner is ready, but
Downtrodden he looks.
His thoughts unsteady, will
He be force-fed too, cook?

He's not depressed,
Rather in a sort of bind.
There's just too much stress
And a lot on his mind.

Thinking so many thoughts,
On the floor sprawled.
Perhaps he ought to
Have stayed home after all.

The trip lost its appeal,
A change in his mindset.
Now all that he feels is
Helplessness and regret.

[corncobman]

Pg 695

Can He Go Back? Now Back On Track

Mikkel no pyschologist,
'Til he's back with kin members,
Whatever has him listless,
Reynir'll have to endure.

Saying "Take care now"
Is Mikkel's parting shot.
The patient is disavowed,
Unsure if he can return or not.

The weather takes a turn,
Down it starts to bucket.
With a look mean and stern,
Sigrun wants to say 'fudge it'.

Tuuri still tinkering,
With screwdriver, a poking.
Like some miracle she brings,
The engine has at last reawoken.

[corncobman]

Pg 696

Roar Or A Cough, Emil Does Scoff

The lights blare, the engine roars,
Or rather, a noise very hoarse.
She likes it, the captain Norse,
Soon they will get back on course.

Her repairs by chance and though scrappy,
Tuuri and Sigrun, both are happy.
But to Emil the noise is 'really crappy'.
Giving heart, then does Sigrun slap he.

'At least it sounds like something',
Each metre to their destination it brings,
Is closer to safety and sheltering.
Now to make lost time and get travelling.