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Brandon Conway Jul 2018
A dark shadow glides across the burning asphalt
    and stops while I fly past
    one foot in front of the other

A spider, I thought
     no, couldn't be
     too long to be one, and slow

Scorpion was the next thought
      no, couldn't be
      they do not call this area home

I had to stop my stride and turn
      sneak to where that dark blur rested

A long blue streaked tail
               fading into lightning strikes

A baby, or perhaps a toddler

All I know is that it's
  tiny
  and fast.
  like me.

It made the grueling heat on these back streets
   worth the suffering.

Is it suffering if it is what I crave?
Clickety clack did you hear that, the kobolds are back!
More kobolds you say, I'll frighten them away. I will keep the little lizard folk at bay.
That's good that you say that you're willing to keep the creatures away because here comes the 5000th kobold I've seen coming this way, oh God it's going to be a long day.
Copy right Michael Robert Triska 2018 written for a Dwarven apocalypse game Dungeons & Dragons.
Cana Apr 2018
Conspiracy nuts
Say lizards rule the whole world
I'm going with no
Haiku for a little lizard I saw chilling in the sun today.
OnyxSea Nov 2017
Born I live,
happy and free.

Roaming the houses like a chimpanzee,
but I'm a Gecko, how can that be?
I chase after the insects and all pests that be,
for the sake of my stomach, and friends-that-be.

Eventually I grow,
a long tail and a ***,
larger than the biggest cockroaches that roam.
I live completely peacefully,
no **** to be seen,
nor scaring the daylights,
out of the family with me.

My life is short,
but I am happy.
Insects and friends,
who always join me.

The same family every day which I see,
giving me a job,
and leaving a warm house for me.

I live in peace,
up to my end.
Living and leaving,
a legacy to defend.

Passing the torch on to my descendents-to-be,
I close my eyes,
never to open them again.

May all that know me,
by sight or by scent,
live happily like me,
to their own life's end.
Harley Hucof Apr 2017
The heart of the Lizard King beats with every note
It speaks of a strange tongue and a banned tone

A vision of the future and past incarnations
A trip to the edges of creation

The Lizard King smiles, but it knows him not
He cries but the tears refuses to drop

18th generations of a pure blood race
The Lizard King offers the last chance to escape

Words of a lost soul that won't breed
Pain, pleasure and desires till the Lizard King fals asleep


Words Of Harfouchism
JR Rhine Dec 2016
All hail the Lizard King,
whose esoteric words crawl like sirens
over hungry rocks
baring teeth to the hypnotized sailor
steering his ship into the jagged maw.

All hail the Lizard King,
perched upon his Dionysian throne,
ambrosial ecstasies fill his cup
while jongleurs dance to psychedelic chansons.

At his feet
prey the nubile maidens of yore
flower-eyed and pearly-teethed.

His eyes, mighty azure pools of madness
within which Byzantine kings were murdered--
blood darts through the mysterious waters
into the hysterical white void.

Alexander the Great
sits poised like a statue
where his libido crouches like a panther
'til the aural adonis
leaps from his confines
an amorous figure of tantalizing flesh and blood
with supple lips pouting, naked muscles taut,
mad eyes gleaming.

All hail the Lizard King,
from lush lips poetic decrees
sing forth into the endless night
penetrating taverns and bedrooms and radios
and stadiums.

The electric shaman leaps from his throne
to cast his wicked incantation,
a spark from his eyes shoots to the pyre
where a lustful blue flame erupts from
the bones of the prophets.

HIs voice soothing, haunting,
the sonic alchemist
sings his siren song into the cataclysm
where we are cast in abeyance--

We follow him,
but is he only leading us deeper
into the darkness,
or does he truly see the light?

The endless night.

All hail the Lizard King.
Don Moore Oct 2016
Winds from far foreign climes beats upon the Lizard rocks
Gulls driven towards the blackest of crags, yet pass over safely inland
In the darkest skies they wheel and spin as if torn by some giant’s hand
White horses gallop crests of waves as they rush towards tiny harbours
There to crash savagely and rend cut stones from their secured places
Men work to save their boats, fighting the storm which mothers sent
Nature conspires to take their very lives as they struggle with her might
Rocks gnash their teeth and boats not safe yet, pass near their faces
Hoping for the safety of their port, men’s white faces line their gunwales
Black, white, red, blue and yellow, boats colours lost within the spray
These same boats that forge the men they carry out upon the sea’s wrath
But now just seek to bring them safely home to their worried wives
Their women stand upon the quay or stare worried from their windows
Churchyards on the hills above seaside villages filled with headstones
Men’s deaths caused by storms in past times of fishing for their living
Leaving spouses, their children to carry on their traditions and religion
Headstones cut from the very granite of the weather worn Lizard cliffs
Menfolk deep beneath the Cornish loam, there to rest for all eternity
Whilst below in the thrashing storm, the families fight once again
Then as quickly as it came, the storm blows out, waters return to placid
Men stretch their aching backs, those hidden from storm turn out
The ******’s mission helps as it can the fractured families
And church maybe rings for those lost out to sea, never to be seen again
There will be time to mourn, and the village will then lament together
And those who are left, they return to their sacred craft of netting fish
Return to shining calm, to ply their trade, to bring food to this isles shore
Writing a Cornish Faery tale presently, and I felt parts of the book would benefit from some prose at the beginning of a chapter...
The hanky he was sobbing into was crusty,
*****, unwashed, unclean; yet strangely comforting to a little boy,
as he cried he made his way to a culvert behind the school,
some place the other kids couldn’t see him crying,
it was more comfortable being near rocks
-next to that watershed for some reason?

He looked down at his antagonist,
the scaly-green feet,
they made him cry harder,
he lamented…

“Why have I been tormented so?”

“Who gave me these feet? Who made me this way, lizardly, scaly, an animal no?”

“What class am I, what species? Are those toenails, claws or a disease?”

“The way I’m treated makes me sad. Where is my mommy, where is my dad?

“Did I come from an egg? Didn’t we all? Why do they pick on me, make me feel so small?”

“My feet are reptilian even I can see that!”

“Am I part lizard? Are there horns on my back?”

“I can’t hide in sneakers ‘cause the claws tear them apart.”

“Not great at math, language or art.”

“They always pickin’ on me, today it’s in the schoolyard.”

“That is why I sit here on the rocks crying with my ugly feet and sullen heart,”

“Cannot run fast so no baseball, basketball or soccer…”

“The other kids tried to stuff me in my own locker…”

“One mean little girl even threw a dead mouse at me!”

“But I’m only part lizard as far as I can see?”

“My English teacher says that my words are like a bird song”

“If I talk like a birdie along with monster’s feet, no wonder I don’t belong!”

“Even still, to be so mean to me, I know that it is wrong…”

“ONE DAY I WILL SHOW THEM ALL, THESE FEET THEY HAVE A PURPOSE!”

“MY WORDS OF SONG AND FEET OF MAGIC COMBINE A COSMIC CIRCUS!”

“I am no freak of nature, no forest Pan or Satyr…”

“It is not the way I look, my clothes or feet that matter…”

“It is what is in my heart and mind, the things I do that truly count…”

“For those things that make us different, for they are tantamount…”

“Seven heads, seven stages, seven fables, seven sages”

“Seven stars and seven wonders and seven heavens that we’re under…”

“And all those things they say are great and marvelous about us…”

“Will one day be written in the book by Great Old Uncle Taautus!”
Children's rhyme. Scylla represents the rocks near shores who rend ships to pieces that venture to close to them.
Crawling thing with six legs,
I'll keep you in mind...

Flying thing with big eyes,
I ate you just in time,

Now crawly-bug I eat you too,
I lap my face to clean off your goo,

Screams from heaven, I must hide!
Yesterday my brother died...

I slither into pile of leaves,
I hope the screamer didn't see,

Stay still, prepare and lick the air,
I smell more crawlies over there...

I get too cool and run for rock,
To sun myself,
And in my sluggish state I lie on rock...

                                                        ­            “Ahhhh!”

I'm grabbed and now I'm in the blue!
The Screamer eats me and my last crawly too!
Children's rhyme
SøułSurvivør Jan 2016
\/
|
it is
a skittish
little beast
though
nothing
harms it
/\/\/\        in the least         /\/\/\
●•○        a living thing       ○●•
○●•°       of red and black     ●○•°
○●°••●○●°if you touch it●○°•●○●○•
○●••●•○°○●it attacks!●○°••●○●•
this lizard snaps
this creature bites
it will engage and
hang on tight! So
be careful where
you step • because
of poison it's adept
as you're walking
●•°○up a trail • carry••○●
••●○••○sticks and do●○°•●○
●°°•●○°○•●not fail!○●•°●○•●○
●°○•      Gila Monsters     ●•○°
\/\/\/      you may goad      \/\/\/
so watch it
○•° son○●°
●°• they●°○
○●own●○
●°•the○●°
•°○● R○●°•°
○••●O○°•●
°•○●A●°•○
°•●○D○●°•
○•°●○•●
°●○•
°•○●
●○­°•
●○.

I hope this turns out

a Gila Monster is
a lizard of the
southwest desert
it is quite beautiful
Seemingly made of
red black and yellow
beads. But look out!
It's poisonous!
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