Poetry collection

[LooNEY_DAC]

Not that anyone cares, but: I'll be posting my poems to AO3, though they'll still go here first.

[corncobman]

Pg 725

Lalli Flagging, What The Cat's Dragging

Tuuri contemplating,
The broken talking device.
Emil and Lalli ambulating,
Through snow and ice.

Lalli looking exhausted,
Why does he have the bag?
The ground, tracking across,
What a weight, what a drag!

One half of the pair chosen,
Looking tired and unwell.
Crossed the distance frozen,
To a structural shell.

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

Silent World Is So Lame
(based on For The Love Of The Game by Semisonic)

In this morning of the week after the fight
I was feeling like I'd lost my inspiration
Now in the shopping trip, I'm feeling not quite right
I can't do a thing about my blood relation

These poor idiots can't even say my name
I only came along with her, I'm dragged along by kin
We all know what's gonna happen...

Silent world is so lame
Sometimes you've gotta cry a little
Silent world is so lame
Maybe even gotta die a little
Silent world is so lame
I made a sacrifice I never thought I'd have to make

I'm down in the bottom of my life with all hope gone
And I'm feeling like I've never ever felt before
Now in the solitude of feeling like a minion
My heart's bleeding in the sunshine, I can take no more

All my squadmates seem to lack a sense of shame
They only came to play as thieves, just see the state I'm in
And we all know who's gonna give in

Silent world is so lame
Sometimes you've gotta cry a little
Silent world is so lame
Maybe even gotta die a little
Silent world is so lame
I made a sacrifice I never thought I'd have to make

Silent world is so lame
Sometimes you've gotta cry a little
Silent world is so lame
Maybe even gotta die a little
Silent world is so lame
I made a sacrifice I never thought I'd have to make (I made a sacrifice...)

Sometimes you've gotta cry a little
Silent world is so lame
Maybe even gotta die a little
Silent world is so lame
I made a sacrifice I never thought I'd have to make

[corncobman]

Pg 726

Feel Like Dropping, Never Stopping

At the chosen site,
Shopping with prices waived,
With Emil's might,
The glass-ed door caved.

Being led by the hand,
The scout cat-man listless.
How much more can he stand,
Of this twisted existence?

Gradually losing,
His mind and his will.
Depraved and confusing,
He's had in excess of his fill.

On long tiring missions,
Adding to injury, insult.
Ever sleep deficient,
Dragged around without consult.

Slowly being broken,
By all his experiences.
Motions and spoken,
An unending weariness...

List items demanding.
Everything has no meaning.
Squad mate, not understanding.
Only interested in gleaning.

[Windfighter]

Wrote a short SSSS-poem during NaPoWriMo, have it in all its glory:

What a scout likes
Cookies
Cookies cookies
Weird messy person
Cookies

[corncobman]

Pg 727

Finder Smug, Smack With The Jug

Ever the observant,
With the container butt,
Before they go divergent,
Bonked on his coconut.

Emil's suggestion,
Of finding separately,
Met with mild aggression,
Failed to spot the jugs did he.

Are your eyes blind,
Where are you goin', yo?
For other items to find,
Together they stick, so.

Together through the aisles,
Dragging his bag in tow.
Going down the list compiled,
For most important wheelbarrows.

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

Burden (based on Bourbon by Rory Gallagher)

Well, he's dragging down the burden like it's a bag of rocks
Trying to quell a feeling he knows ain't gonna stop
He's whacking 'round his bud with a plastic jug that he seized

He had his job 'till breakfast, scouting by moon
Carrying their bag and it's inopportune
His head is held high but his heart is on it's knees

Well, he'll get no repose running all day around
Gotta help the cleanser or he'll burn the place down
Another destination, no more transport with ease

Well, they leave behind a vehicle, now they have a handicap
They tried to make it work; now it's a pile of scrap
He had to smack the Swede, it's right behind you, geez

It's a bonky-bonk engagement
But there's no better face to play
His face feels like a re-arrangement
He's getting more blind every day

Well, there's no way of telling how much of him remains
He's struggling on and nobody knows his pains
But something keeps them moving, chasing on through again

But as they keep on shopping, through the garden-ware
Picking up the ancient trash, without any cares
Only time they're spending, hope the list is all there

It's a bonky-bonk engagement
But there's no better face to cave
He's bit by the silent statement
He's getting more dazed in this way

Well, he's dragging down the burden like it's a bag of rocks
Trying to quell a feeling he knows ain't gonna stop
He's whacking 'round his bud with a plastic jug that he seized

He had his job 'till breakfast, scouting by moon
Carrying their bag and it's inopportune
His head is held high but his mind is on it's knees

[Athena]

Had a project for LA where we were supposed to write a poem inspired by an image/illustration and I wrote something SSSS, of course. inspired by this piece which I painted a while ago.

Kallohonka
 
Atop a tree hangs the skull - antlers
firm attached like branches.
Facing to the stars and setting sun - east,
facing is the skull of beast.

In life it was a moose,
prancing strong through the spruce.
Then illness came
with will to maim,
and moose, left with no honour,
twisted into monster.

Its end was swift - barely a trifle,
at hands of scout and rifle.

Cleansed it is to be,
spirit tormented shall be free,
body left as but a curio,
spirit free with herds of Tapio.

Song of scout rings through the trees,
plea to gods carried on breeze,
melody then does decrease,
silence of a soul at peace.

[corncobman]

Pg 728

Single Flower Thrives, Containers Or Five

Secluded from the gloom,
Something still survives,
A single flower blooms,
The sun keeping it alive.

Sleeping bags under arm,
The wheelbarrow Emil moves.
He sees the wee bloom, charmed,
Such a sight softly soothes.

By a tiny oasis spellbound,
The Swedish man there viewed.
'Till the scraping noises sound,
Shattering the peaceful mood.

The wordless scout man brings
Umbrella, pots, bucket of plastic.
None of the requested things,
Somehow over enthusiastic...

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

Pg 729

Everything Took, Hey Hey, Look

This thing ain't a tent,
Nor is that other stuff.
The harsh Swedish gent,
Taking a stance tough.

This thing however,
A tent it might be.
Now their endeavour,
Is fulfilled completely.

A great job they did!
They have all that they need.
But the sadness he can't rid,
Shoulders slumping indeed.

Now notice Emil takes,
He sees the depression clear.
His bleeding heart aches,
Hey hey, Lalli, look here.

Some words of cheer can,
The cleanser man impart?
Will Lalli understand,
And will he take heart?

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

Pg 730

In A Slump, Friendly Fist Bump?

You know, Emil does care,
Lalli's worried about things.
See that flower there?
It's almost spring!

Soon civilization's embrace
And summer will have come.
A good auspice, dear mage,
So don't be so glum, chum.

Things are tough, but,
His optimism hasn't decreased.
Because no matter what,
They'll be friends at least.

They'll be happier than they were
Coming in at the start.
Come on, fist bump, he for sure
Understands the 'friend' part?

[corncobman]

Pg 731

Don't Understand, Reprimand

His guard endures.
Lalli erected a wall.
Friendly gestures
Didn't happen at all.

Remaining oblivious,
To suffering in his past.
Emil must seem frivolous,
Though never told, no-one asked.

To come here was absurd,
They had a life once again.
Emil can't understand his words,
Each dripping with disdain...

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

Tiny Mancer (Tiny Dancer by Elton John and Bernie Taupin)

Too mean maybe, Lalli baby, distressed Finnish man
Angry eyed, irate guy, not behaving as I planned
Unforeseen, uh, you're just displeased, yeah, ranting as we stand
And now he's cranky, seems unhappy, tiny mancer out of hand

He just freaked out, when I speak
Man, he's livid by the gods
Reel it back, he just attacked
It feels as if I've just been shot

Finnish man, I can't understand
In his cross delirium
Raving on, so what's gone wrong?
No words I know, I'm feeling dumb

But oh how it feels surreal
Sudden here, with moody feels
Only you and you are clearly
So melancholy, Lalli

Slow your scoldin', tiny mancer
Can't hear the words thrown in my face
Break it down, my head is spinnin'
I don't get anything you say

Whoa there broseph, tiny mancer
It's like a blur goin' my way
Break it down, my head is spinnin'
I don't get anything you say

Too mean maybe, Lalli baby, distressed Finnish man
Angry eyed, irate guy, not behaving as I planned
Unforeseen, uh, you're just displeased, yeah, ranting as we stand
And now he's cranky, seems unhappy, tiny mancer out of hand

But oh how it feels surreal
Sudden here, with moody feels
Only you and you are clearly
So melancholy, Lalli

Slow your scoldin', tiny mancer
Can't hear the words thrown in my face
Break it down, my head is spinnin'
I don't get anything you say

Whoa there broseph, tiny mancer
It's like a blur goin' my way
Break it down, my head is spinnin'
I don't get anything you say

[Caro]

I wrote a spell in the same style as Lalli's spells. It's for a homesick traveler, and I think our favorite catboy could really use it right now!

Tunnen vedon kotimaahan,
Tuttuun tupaan, emon pesään
Tuoksua kotoisaa kaipaan
Rantoi, niittyjä ja metsää

Vie kutsuni niille maille
Kanna kotokankahille
Etten sure ikävöiden
Vaikerrellen, kyynelsilmin

Suojaa, Kuutar, palvojaasi
Vellamo tyynet vedet piä
Kivutar pysy muualla
Ukon myrskyt toisil' mailla

Jotta vielä takas pääsen
Kauas vierahilta mailta
Että näen kodin vielä
On kulkijal' onni siellä


Literal translation:

I feel a pull for my homeland
To a familiar cottage, mother's nest
I miss the homely scent
The beaches, fields and forest

Take my call to those lands
Carry it to my home
So that I don't grieve longingly
Mourning, with teary eyes

Protect, Kuutar, your worshipper
Vellamo, keep the waters calm
Kivutar (goddess of pain) stay away
Ukko's (god of thunder) storms elsewhere

So that I may yet go back
Far away from foreign lands
So that I may see home again
For that's where a traveler's joy is

[Róisín]

Oh good, a bilingual poet. Excellent!

[corncobman]

Pg 732

No Smiles, Scout Riled

History is doomed,
To repeat itself.
Opening old wounds,
On his mental health.

If Emil had gone through,
What Lalli indeed had,
A more morose view,
And similarly sad?

He wouldn't generate,
A smile like he has been.
The Swede frustrates,
Misunderstanding the Finn...

[corncobman]

Pg 733

Facial Critique, Feline Too Weak

They are too different,
Friendship Lalli does snub.
Insulting as he vents
The face of the poor bub.

The handles he seizes,
Prepared to move sans support.
His lack of bulk the reason
The dramatic exit was thwarted.

Emil's annoying face,
He never liked it anyway.
The barrow he tried to displace.
He's too weak, so it stayed.

[corncobman]

Pg 734

Relations Regress, Wild Flower Pressed

Lalli storming off,
With the Swede in his wake.
Leaving the wheeled trough
For the cleanser to take.

His friendship in tatters,
He forlornly pushes,
He hears a noisy clatter,
The pretty flower's smoosh-ed.

By the sight disgruntled,
It is indeed such a shame.
So he, laden, trundles,
To whence they both came.

[corncobman]

Pg 735

More Disgusting Proclaimed, Will Sustain All The Same

As day slowly descends,
Lalli sits far apart.
Seemingly unmended,
The wounds in his heart.

Jugs becoming filled,
Visually adjudged,
Managing to distil
Even worse looking sludge.

It'll sufficiently sustain,
For the remaining duration.
Nastiness there contained,
Sigrun just makes observations.

No accounting for taste,
No one there would quaff.
This candle tallow paste,
Would put hairs on or take 'em off!

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

Pg 736

Forced Compromises, Leaving Their Prizes

The trio in the sunset
Readied their food supplies.
Inside Reynir sweats,
Paints on sheets oversized.

Painting runes in black jet,
Designs he himself devised.
With night comes the threat,
So toiling in his enterprise.

Not all the books can they get,
Such a waste in Tuuri's eyes.
Perfectly fine written assets,
But non-essential merchandise.

Wrapped up, stacked to forget,
Many dozen tomes organised.
Suddenly black noises beset,
Illness begins to metastasise...

[corncobman]

Pg 737

Realisation, Need Conversation

Tuuri feeling the twinge,
Takes a step out-of-doors.
Skald is mildly unhinged,
With a hint of remorse.

With a sigh, she expounds, now
Brother's guidance she seeks.
Even if he wasn't bed-bound,
They have no way to speak...

She now realises the fact,
That she is afflicted with curse.
Dark noises making contact,
And it will only get worse...