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Should have done this at once…this is the topic under which to post your poetic genius as a comment. We already have one entry, under the Good News header, but please repost as a comment here, for the benefit of your lazy hostess, so she can find them all in one place.
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Comment by Jet — December 18, 2012 @ 8:38 am
Through all the long tales
Two Daemons battle fiercely
Story and Plot, war
Comment by Sharidann — December 18, 2012 @ 9:08 am
My contribution…
I apologize for any weird language, choice of words and other grammatical or stylistical inadequacies. 🙁 English is not my mother tongue.
It ought to be a sonnet… don’t laugh. 🙂
There was a boy named Alkieri
His temper best described as fiery
Ripped from his mom’s arms taken away
The direst step in his life’s journey!
The skin of his back most cruelly whipped
The joy in his eyes almost vanquished.
Through a most timely rescue saved from death,
Halveric’s kindness restored his faith!
A paladin of Gird recognized
His true lineage, offered herself
And thus kept ancient evil mesmerized!
As evil struck at King Alkieri himself,
His Grandmother came to the rescue
Not one minute early, right on cue!
Comment by Leo — December 18, 2012 @ 10:38 am
Hunters Heartbeat – Leo Sorel 10/17/12
“Thrum, Thrum” from the mountains dug deep,
Comes the Earth’s heartbeat;
Low and deep, does the sensation creep,
Into the soul, does the Earth’s wisdom seep;
“Thrum, Thrum” from out of the woods,
Comes the Horned Rider;
Loud and fast, do the hooves ride the winds,
Into the heart, does the knowledge come;
“Thrum, Thrum” from out of the skies,
Comes the Wild Hunt;
Dark and quiet, does the chase cause panic,
Into the mind, does the power advance;
“Boom, Boom” crashes the thunder, from on high,
Comes the Sky’s heartbeat;
Heavy and hard, does the lightning strike
Panic spreads, far and wide;
“Boom, Boom” crashes the mighty god’s fist,
As he sends the hounds on their journey,
Looking for their quarry;
“Boom, Boom” clashes the shield with the spear,
As Herne calls to his fell companions;
“Bring Me These, and Bring Me Those” he calls
“Boom, Boom” does horse stampede,
With a mighty roar, does the horn sound;
For the quarry has been found;
“Wind and Rain” does crash,
As the lightning flash
And the quarry tries to dash
Amongst the bole and boulder
Does the quarry try to hide
The Hounds corner those who have been caught;
And the Horned Rider and his Spear flash,
And the quarry, now caught and slain
Becomes another of the fell companions
In this age of Darkness and of Change
For the Season has come to an end
Until the Hunt Rides Again
Comment by Rowanmdm — December 18, 2012 @ 12:00 pm
For some reason I’ve been thinking about all of the kids Dorrin is now responsible for. I’m not a good poet, so I’m really happy Elizabeth isn’t choosing the ARC on merit.
Heirs of evil past
Scions of what is to come
Which path will they take?
Old road of power
Choose examples carefully
New road of duty
Comment by Kerry aka Trouble — December 18, 2012 @ 12:38 pm
Kieri, Arcolin and Dorrin
With Paks, once went a-warrin’
Only Stammel is blind
but no-one can find
the necklace named after Torre(n)
Please forgive the lousy rhyme, but I have this thing for limericks.
Comment by Dave Ring — December 18, 2012 @ 12:40 pm
How about a riddling haiku, suitable for the tavern:
A flying insect —
can you swap just four letters
and run out of ale?
Comment by Tuttle — December 18, 2012 @ 12:48 pm
Inspired by two of my favorite images of horses; Paks galloping away from Kieri and the opening scene of Conan The Barbarian (The one with Arnold).
Hoofs tossing up snow –
Sunbeams in a winter grove
illuminating
Comment by Jenn — December 18, 2012 @ 2:30 pm
Seasonal haiku as my official entry:
In deepest winter
the past to a king will speak
while death battles life
A tavern double limerick in honor of the webmistress.
There once was a spider on the wall.
It sadly happened to fall
into a glass of cider
of my dear old aunt Ida.
Tragically she drank it all.
Now my dear old aunt Ida
is deathly afraid of a spider
and we all knew she’d yell
if any dared tell
that the spider in the cider’s inside her.
Comment by Jenn — December 18, 2012 @ 2:31 pm
Sharidann,
Love the sonnet.
Comment by Dave Ring — December 18, 2012 @ 4:40 pm
Another bit of tavern action:
Before that night never had he doubted
the strength of his arm in any contest.
His brow wrinkled. A bead of sweat
ran down and tickled the tip of his nose.
Inch by inch his arm descended
and touched the counter. Kolya grinned.
Comment by elizabeth — December 18, 2012 @ 5:01 pm
Hurray–you folks are rockin’ Poet’s Night at the tavern. Keep at it. More join in.
Comment by patrick — December 18, 2012 @ 10:23 pm
Another seasonal haiku:
Dreaming of sweet spring
the taig repeats year’s cycle
when dragon’s fire comes
Comment by Genko — December 19, 2012 @ 11:24 am
Okay, I’ve recently discovered how easy (if not wise) it is to write limericks, and couldn’t resist this contest.
There once was a girl from Three Firs
Who wanted to fight and be first
She learned all she could
Weapons metal and wood
In attempts to relieve a big thirst.
On her own with an untrusty elf
She nevertheless proved herself
Meeting lots of new folk,
Then the Trials bespoke,
And looked to put her on the shelf.
She happed on the Kuakgon, (by chance?)
And undertook a healing dance.
Healed, went on the quest
(is it east, or then west?)
And finally gave Kieri his chance.
All of this changed everything
New kings, new mages, new bling (!)
A dragon, perforce,
New adventures, of course,
We’re waiting to know what to sing.
Comment by Patrick Doris — December 19, 2012 @ 12:03 pm
Road of dirt Roads of rock
Gnomish shortcuts cause memories lost
Will a Count’s journey be a block
To the path of war’s fury and cost
Of the Paladin’s new journey no tale yet be told
How will the link be forged to find the Taig
can it be from the new found magic of old
or will more sacrifices be required from the King
Comment by Amy — December 19, 2012 @ 10:08 pm
A rather seasonal poem:
T’was the night of Midwinter,
and I couldn’t sleep
For the hooting of owls and the baaing of sheep
Now this was unusual, because you see,
I don’t own a farm – I live in the city!
So I went to my window,
Peered out at the snow,
And saw a red horse
prancing ’round down below.
His rider was dressed in bright-shining mail,
Her hair hanging down in a long pony-tail.
She brandished a sword and let out a cry
Merry Midwinter all, and to all a goodbye!
Comment by Thae — December 19, 2012 @ 11:55 pm
Here goes~ =)
Fear gripped tight inside
A trembling hand takes up arms
Against a great and terrible foe
Who seeks to do her harm
Given strength she swings the blade
Shudders at its bite
An enemy felled, the day is saved
Good heart wins over might
She hangs the sword above her fire
There never to forget
The day the enemy came to her door
And just as swiftly left
Comment by Susan — December 20, 2012 @ 1:07 am
I think I’m out of my league here, but taking a shot:
For Paks
Cold, hungry, worthless
No defenses left, no hope
What reason to live?
Comment by Sharidann — December 20, 2012 @ 6:22 am
@Jenn: Thanks.
Love your haiku too.
Comment by Annabel — December 20, 2012 @ 1:01 pm
Yes, I know the scansion is a bit iffy in places:
Before that night he knew he was a duke,
But King? Not to his knowledge, but then, Paks,
A former soldier, now a paladin,
Discovered his new state. Alas, he lacks
Full knowledge of his parenthood; a past
So dark he’d blocked it from his very self.
He had no sense of taig, no kinship with
The land, or with the Lady, the Queen Elf.
And yet, that night all changed; he seemed to see
Himself as King of Lyonya, coming home
To greet his people and to learn to be
Their King, their leader in a time of war,
As well as peace; with enemies all round
He had to fight; there would be peace no more.
Comment by GinnyW — December 20, 2012 @ 1:45 pm
Wow! I am going to have a hard time topping you all. I love Kerry’s limerick. I haven’t solved Dave’s riddle – yet. And I love Tuttle’s imagery.
All I can come up with is this:
(Chorus) Unbind. Unbound. Paladin frees
an unknown future’s destiny
Born to house an ancient soul
Seeking slaves to bind in pain
Now a child in winter’s cold
Builds a man in snow again.
Waters blocked by rotting bones
Drenched in blood and rock entombed
Now bubble freely from the stones
So Alyanya’s herbs and flowers bloomed
Urn of blood and cloak and leather
Locked away by portrait malign
Royal jewels are kept together
Royal cloak shows priest’s design
Comment by GinnyW — December 20, 2012 @ 1:46 pm
Oops. Should be “cloak of leather”.
Comment by june Mattes — December 20, 2012 @ 2:12 pm
Slick are the limericks
yahoo on those haikus
I would really just like to read it
because you can see I can’t write it
June
Comment by Sharidann — December 21, 2012 @ 12:52 am
june, you are selling yourself too short. 🙂
Comment by Jenn — December 21, 2012 @ 11:33 am
The Extra’s breakroom inhabitants have insisted that I enter their drinking song. I told them they were not eligible but they still insist. They stole it from a song game I taught the Verrakai children.
Piter the Inn keeper has 12 kegs! (everyone raises their glass after this line)
Piter the Inn keeper has 12 kegs! (lift)
Piter the Inn keeper has 12 kegs! (lift)
Let’s drink to his health
(everyone on slaps one hand on the table 3 times while drinking from their tankard)
Piter the Inn keeper has 11 kegs …. and so on down to…
Piter the Inn keeper has no kegs (lift)
Piter the Inn keeper has no kegs (lift)
Piter the Inn keeper has no kegs (lift)
So now its time to go.
Comment by Kristin — December 21, 2012 @ 4:12 pm
Oh, Camwyn slew a dragon,
but the dragon’s still alive.
It was a feat to brag on,
’til the dragon did arrive…
So raise your ale flagon,
and drink to Camwyn’s name.
Now this poem’s begun to drag on
So I’ll end it. What a shame!
Comment by Daniel Glover — December 21, 2012 @ 9:19 pm
Meter needs work, but here’s what I’ve come up thus:
Sightless seer held tight
To the not-wise king’s heir
Traveling as few mortals might
Afore hunting Wisdom’s(?) spawn
Escaped from their lair.
Following in Half-Song’s tongue lashed steps thus,
Though preceeding her as Kieri’s sword-shield (in the south) did he
While she called him from under hill
North of dwarf tunneled mount and ridge burrowed by gnomish will.
Comment by pjm — December 22, 2012 @ 1:36 am
An aged though valiant paladin
Retired to Three Firs and ran an inn.
On display in the hall
Was her armour and all,
But her helmet was used to put salad in.
Comment by Annabel — December 22, 2012 @ 5:22 am
LOVE that last limerick, pjm!
Comment by Jenn — December 22, 2012 @ 11:13 am
I think we should publish a book:
Peculiar Poetry and Parody from Paksworld’s People
Comment by Tracy — December 22, 2012 @ 4:51 pm
Got to try this! Pretty rusty, though…
Old bones under hill
Tell the King of ancient wrongs
Still to be redressed.
Elf Queen will not share
All that Kieri needs to know —
Struck down in her pride.
Elvenhome is lost —
Iynisin change the game;
Winter of the world.
Now the Dragon’s fire
Wakens legends old and new;
Evil things, beware!
Comment by Tina Black — December 25, 2012 @ 1:17 pm
A paladin bold
A prince long lost restored
To lead a kingdom.
Comment by Kevin Steverson — December 26, 2012 @ 7:39 pm
So, rumor has it a new drinking song is making it’s way through the taverns…it goes something like this:
Light! Humbly asked for…
Light! Freely given…
The Light of the High Lord shines through…
It’s not for herself
Cause her faith is strong
She calls it for me and you…
Light! Humbly asked for..
Light! Freely given…
The Light of the High Lord shines through…
It chases the dark
And lightens the heart
And strengthens me and you…
Light! Humbly asked for…
Light! Freely given…
The Light of the High Lord shines through…
Paks rides her red stallion
Right through to the front
And we all know what we will do…
Light! Humbly asked for…
Light! Freely given…
The Light of the High Lord shines through…
We’ll fight for the right
on through the night
Cause our side is just and it’s true…
ohhhhhhhhhhh
Light! Humbly asked for…
Light! Freely given…
The Light of the High Lord shines through…
The Light of the High Lord shines through…
Comment by Abigail Miller — December 27, 2012 @ 10:39 pm
This seems to still be open, so here’s an attempt.
Tasting dragon’s tongue
shows flavors unsuspected,
history unknown.
Comment by Eowyn — December 28, 2012 @ 11:47 am
Ode to a Paladin
She was strong yet fragile
Yet this young squire had power
I knew that time would test her
yet she saved our Duke that hour
She kept him from falling
Into that darkness of soul
When she joined us
Who would have seen that role?
After we changed she left
She had to find her own path
We missed her and watched
Hoping she would avoid wrath
She was tested beyond most people
Her goodness was briefly tarnished
She was true to herself
and the glow was reburnished
She became what she had dreamt to be
Yet she was even more
A paladin she became
Not like one seen before
She was made by Gird
Her obeisance to him is sure
She respects the marshals
Her heart alone is pure.
Comment by Jeanine — December 28, 2012 @ 2:49 pm
like all wars,
composed of equal parts of ambition, greed and stupidity,
it makes for better reading than participation.
Comment by Jim Elgar — December 28, 2012 @ 8:10 pm
Jeanine, Amen.
Comment by Jim Elgar — December 28, 2012 @ 8:43 pm
Where, oh Where have the Paladins gone?
Where, oh Where can they be?
With their mail so brightand their faith so
strong,
Where oh Where can they be?
Did they go west to the highlands or east to
the sea?
Where, oh Where can they be?
There’s great evil in the southwest, the
Marshal-General said.
Is that where they might be?
Did their saints call them all to strive and
stand tall,
To protect us from that evil, you and me?
With the High Lord’s blessing, lets pray for
them now.
Where, oh Where can they be.
Comment by Gareth — December 30, 2012 @ 2:30 pm
Elves seek perfection
hard to find, dying out
Iynisin seek to spoil
easy – growing strong
Gnomes live by the law
very complex
Dwarves cleave the rock
secrets underground
Humans – too curious to leave things be.
Mix of all, good, bad, lawful, thieves.
Short lives, strong loves.
Comment by pjm — December 31, 2012 @ 12:40 am
A drinking song for iynisin (if they have them)
Ten little paladins hanging on the wall.
Ten little paladins hanging on the wall,
And if one little paladin should accidentally fall
(evil laughter!)
There’d be nine little paladins hanging on the wall.
(etc)
Peter
Comment by pjm — December 31, 2012 @ 4:10 am
On reflection, not an Iynisin drinking song. Achrya, using very forceful persuasion, put together a joint party of Iynisin and humans. The humans did the singing and the Iynisin provided the evil laughter, so effectively that one of the humans began to seriously regret joining the party (in both senses of the word).
Peter
Comment by Linda — January 2, 2013 @ 11:06 pm
Haiku on a bitterly cold night
Gnomes tremble in fear
Dragon appears in the night
In bleak midwinter
In bleak midwinter
Dragon liberates Stammel
Can Kolya rejoice?
Another child lost
His mother and father mourn
in bleak midwinter
An elf queen dies
and in the bleak midwinter
the Taig cries aloud
Comment by Dave Ring — January 3, 2013 @ 10:22 am
There turned out to be a bit more of the alliterative poem I submitted as comment 10 above. This is not meant as a new entry — just a more complete version of the original.
Before that night / he never had doubted
the strength of his arm / in any contest.
His brow wrinkled. / A bead of sweat
ran down and tickled / the tip of his nose.
Inch by inch / his arm descended
and touched the counter. / Kolya grinned.
“I know”, she said / “’twas nowise fair —
half of your arms / ‘gainst all of mine.
I suckered you, friend, / and so I’ll pay.
Barkeep! Bring us / the best of your ale!”
Comment by Lise — January 4, 2013 @ 8:44 am
In Echoes of Betrayal, Arvid hears some Blue Riders singing a song about Phelani. He wonders what the Phelani sing about the Blues. Here is my attempt going from how annoyed the Phelani are about how the Blue Riders treat their wounded and also how they hired Captain Arneson who is great and experienced.
I am very new to this so please don’t judge me too harshly.
Blue Riders are mean at heart
With their wounded they just part!
Will not spend a serf on them
Cough them up like so much phlegm!
Hey Blue Riders, we don’t care!
Train your troops and leave them there!
We will profit you will loose.
Just you listen to the news.
What will you leave for us today?
Seargeant? Captain? Oh please say!
We’ll recruit from your company
And get great folks for free!
Comment by elizabeth — January 4, 2013 @ 10:39 am
Lise: I love the Phelani song about the Blues.
Comment by Lise — January 4, 2013 @ 4:00 pm
I went to school in French so I never know exactly how to write in English. I’m glad you like it.
Comment by iphinome — January 4, 2013 @ 9:05 pm
I made attempts to write an ode to a certain dark lady, Barra. Alas the bard did a much better job and gave me an inferiority complex so no entry from me this time around.
The greek chorus might have something to say though.
STADLOR
Do you think we should talk in verse?
WALDORF
Iphinome’s poetry can’t get worse!
Comment by Jenn — January 5, 2013 @ 11:23 am
Lise:
C’est tres bien. J’aime beaucoup votre chanson.
That’s about it. I am afraid my french is rather rusty since it has been 5 years since I lived in France.
Comment by elizabeth — January 5, 2013 @ 7:33 pm
I’ve now read all the entries…and WOW. I’m SO glad I don’t have to attempt to judge merit on entries so varied (is a really great limerick better than a really great chunk of iambic pentameter that really does sound Shakespearean? What about drinking songs? Etc.)
But since I’ve been sick, I’d like one of you to check the number of unique poets. (Remember that nobody gets an extra number in the pot for having sent more than one–just the writer’s gratitude.) I think there are 30 individuals who entered. Is that right? If confirmed, I’ll run the random number thingie over it and come up with a winner. But ye gods, folks…I wish I had more ARCs to hand out!