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Cautionary Tales For Matoran

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3 replies to this topic

#1 Offline spyder ryder

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Posted Oct 16 2011 - 08:17 PM

To those who read this, these poems were thought up while writing my other comedy Childhood.

Vezon, Who poked things with sticks and was in turn poked back

Vezon was a nutty lad,

And while he wasn’t really bad,

He had a most childish tick,

He liked to poke things with a stick.

If perchance his eyes would spy,

On anything that he thought fly,

He’d give it a most lively poke,

What a balmy little bloke!

Vezon once walked down a road,

And he came upon a toad,

He poked it on its bumpy back,

And it hopped off while saying ‘Gack!’

Vezon was down at the store,

He wasn’t there long before,

He poked a cart of fresh tomatoes,

Which tipped onto the new potatoes.

Vezon continued on his way,

For there were still hours of the day,

He went over to his neighbor’s place,

And slipped inside without a trace.

Vezon saw a lovely vase,

Which sat atop a splendid case,

He reached out with the dreaded stick,

He poked the vase, which promptly tipped.

Not looking at the broken shards,

Vezon went into the yard,

And there he saw a stack of bricks,

Which needed poking with his stick.

He felled them with a gentle touch,

It really didn’t take that much,

And then Vezon was on his way,

For now he really couldn’t stay.

Vezon went to the wildwood,

Feeling that his day was good,

He walked among the massive trees,

And smiled as he felt the breeze.

Vezon looked, his eyes aglow,

At all the wildwood had to show,

So many rocks, so many trees,

Things that he could poke with ease.

But then Vezon looked down and found,

A rattlesnake coiled on the ground,

Vezon grinned, the snake it froze,

And Vezon poked it in the nose.

The snake was mad, and rightly so,

And thus bit Vezon on the toe,

Vezon yelped with pain and fright,

He didn’t live to see the night.

Edited by spyder ryder, Oct 16 2011 - 08:17 PM.

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#2 Offline Alyska

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Posted Oct 16 2011 - 10:54 PM

Hehe... that's brilliant! Well written, and Vezon randomly poking stuff with a stick is just the perfect mental image. I presume there are more coming?
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#3 Offline Lewa0111 Nuva

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Posted Oct 17 2011 - 01:00 AM

An interesting idea, to be sure. I don't think I've ever seen a comedy poem before...then again, I haven't exactly looked very hard I suppose. Vezon poking things with sticks is a pretty funny idea, and the style of poetry was well-written and easy to read. Good job on that! The only criticism I have really is that you could replace the word "Vezon" with any normal human name and it would make perfect sense. Other than the use of Vezon as the one with the stick, there wasn't anything else BIONICLE-related at all in the comedy. I suppose that's a minor criticism considering how hilarious the rest of it was, but eh. Overall, good job! I look forward to more! :mirunu: Lewa0111 Nuva :mirunu:
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#4 Offline spyder ryder

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Posted Oct 17 2011 - 06:07 AM

Roodaka, who told lies and was devoured as a result

Roodaka loved to make up lies,

For clever tricks she would devise,

Her favorite trick to play on strangers

Was to pretend she was in danger.

She’d sneak to where no one would look,

While they slept or read a book,

And the she’d interrupt their dreams

By letting out horrendous screams.

She’d scream ‘Help!’ and ‘Bloody murder!’

So loud that Zakaz could’ve heard her,

Her wails were heard throughout the night,

Giving all who heard a dreadful fright.

Her parents, they would leap from bed,

And shake the sleep out of their heads,

They’d search the manor high and low

As Roodaka screamed ‘Oh no, Oh no!’

And when they’d find her safe and sound,

Roodaka would roll upon the ground,

Laughing cruelly at her folks,

Who fell for her ill-humored joke.

When her aunt came to the house,

Roodaka said she saw a mouse,

The most horrid mouse that she’d ever seen,

With yellow eyes and teeth of green.

Roodaka’s aunt was scared of mice,

And didn’t sleep a wink that night,

When morning came she was so tired,

Her sister thought that she’d expired.

Roodaka laughed at her poor aunt,

And said she was like an elephant,

She told her aunt, “Go get some rest,

There was no mouse, it was a jest.”

One day her folks went to the fair,

And left her in her auntie’s care,

Roodaka had a joke planned out,

And snuck off to a place to shout.

Roodaka chose the dusty cellar,

To hide when she would start to beller,

She crept down in the quiet gloom,

And looked about the musty room.

She found the perfect hiding spot,

Right behind an enormous pot,

She giggled as she hid herself,

When something moved up on a shelf.

Roodaka’s large eyes grew wider,

When she looked up and saw a spider,

The biggest she had ever seen,

So large that she let out a scream.

‘Spider! Spider!’ the poor girl called,

She screamed and shrieked and wailed and bawled,

Her aunt, she heard, but all she said,

Was ‘Shut up’ and ‘Go soak your head!’

The spider snatched Roodaka up,

And said ‘You’ll do just fine for sup,’

He wrapped her tight in a cocoon,

And ate her up that afternoon!

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