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kirk Mar 2018
There is an age old story in a place called middle earth
About Hobbits, Orcs and Wizards all fighting for there turf
It all involved a ******* ring too much for what its worth
Sending all men crazy when its wrapped around their girth
With their finger in the ring who knows where they may surf
Wars began when worlds where new the creation of times birth

So what exactly does it mean by lord of the rings
Is it the golden type or does it mean other things?
Being a lord of a ring who knows what that brings?
Is it a Drawf ,an ugly Orc or an Elf that swings?
Or a Hobbit with hairy feet bouncing on bed springs
Maybe its a Wizard or some ***** Queens and Kings
Something with open ***** spread wide like Dragons Wings
Could it be a merriment of drunken Men or a Bard that sings
A mystical sword detecting Orcs while the blue blade 'Stings'
Or caught inside an arachnids lair when her webbing clings

If the one true ring is reaching out can you hear it call
Is this the case for Hobbitses spread up against a wall
I'm not sure if its all powerful or enough to make you crawl
But its certainly a finger trap when your about to fall
Dont get caught up in a song or a bar room brawl
You'll end up exposing your ring laid out in a sprawl
First there was a fellowship so that explains it all
An Elf, a King, a Warrior and a Wizard that was tall
One Dwarf and Four Hobbits oh so ******* small
A band of miss-matched fellows so too much **** and ball

There wasn't any ladies present none in their vicinity
No big boobed buxom vixens so no sweet femininity
Just a load of sweaty men so too much masculinity
One true ring to rule them all and the loss of their senility
Nine guys on a long quest with the need of strong agility
Half way up a mountain heading for their own affinity
Inside a cave "You shall not pass" Gandalfs grey divinity
With staff in hand the Balrog's Bain both falling to infinity
Frodo's lose and upset the fellowships diminishing ability
With the hope of something more for the lose of their virginity

Just take a look at Bilbo Baggins with his transfixed eyes
With his finger in the ring is what he would visualise
His persona will be changing to what you wont recognize
But he wont want to give up the ring or even compromise
Could it be the feeling he has of the rings sweet tantalize
Or leaving this reality behind under his minds hypnotize
If he does not surrender the ring he will be so unwise
Coz Gandalf will get so ******* with Bilbo's demoralize
An obsessed Bilbo Bagginses he's under a different guise
If the ring then turns him gay it will come as no surprise

So if your in the tavern and you spot old Boromir
And he's got a pewter tankard quaffing froth and beer
If he handles the one true ring who knows which way he'll steer
He'll end up in the cocktail bar the ring will turn him queer
Mr Underhill is waiting with the ring will he ever get gear
Waiting for a stranger while the patrons look and leer
Some people in the tavern they may even laugh and cheer
But I doubt they'd be too happy if they where taken at the rear
Frodo's mistake ******* the ring his invisibility may be severe
Black riders are not far behind so there is something to fear

And if you looking for a man who's name is Strider
But you're not really sure who he is a friend or an insider
For all you know he could be a foe or a even a Black Rider
He is just a lying **** his false name is his divider
At the Prancing Pony Inn he may well be your hider
But it will be a team effort and not a soul provided
Be careful of that ******* ring your tail will get much wider
You don't want any hindrance or a ridicule derider
Don't lose your ring deep in the woods within a ***** slider
That's nothing to what lies ahead when you face a giant spider

Just beware of those Ring Wraiths the nine riders of the black
Cos you don't want to use your ring if your going to be slack
Resist the use of the ring or they'll stab you in the back
The eye of Saurons watching you blades of evil in your crack
If evil gets into your heart you'll become one of their pack
At Elrons river their taunting you cos they are right on track
They will beckon you to Mordor but it's courtesy they lack
So warn them off defeat those Wraiths a sea of horses to attack
Time and pain could have been saved and a hell of a lot of flak
If you went with the Wraiths and it was them that you could hack

And you really don't want to come across the army of the dead
There are far too many of them and you'll run out of lead
You should get out while you can just don't loose your head
Make a bargain with the Dunharrow Dead to avoid bloodshed
The protection of those ****** rings protect your own instead
Is it worth all of the blood spilled when you could have fled
Sam should keep his guard up as he may fear to tread
Cos Gollum's out there stalking you as you lay on your bed
He'll **** to gain "My Precious" filling your heart with dread
Attacking you while your asleep and any of your stead

Smoke rises from the Mountain of Doom and the hour is late
Gandalf The Grey rides to Isengard of this he cannot wait
Seeking council with Saruman but he doesn't know his fate
The lord of Mordor he sees all I'm afraid that is his trait
Sauron's great eye's looming my old friend's fallen for the bait
Reason abandoned for madness the insanity of Saruman's hate
We must join with Sauron but then what would that create
The hour is later than you think are their staffs twisted or straight
A fight within Orthanc tower this was Gandalf's one true date
Escaping the clutches of Saruman's trap his former friend and mate

Have you ever wondered how Gandalf turned from grey to white
The quest began but too their dismay the Balrog came to sight
Deep within the cavern walls the desperation of their plight
No way back on a stone bridge during that hopeless fight
The danger of the crumbling rocks falling a great height
Gandalf will not let it pass the whip of the Balrog's blight
Was it that confrontation when Gandalf turned dark into light
Or when he got tossed of that bridge was his grey cloak getting tight
Is it the strain of whiplash pulling him or the fiery Balrogs bite
Gandalf will return on Shadowfax and the Eagles will take flight

Gandalf and a group of men the Great Eagles they had mastered
So why didn't he take the ring himself the selfish ******* *******  
Those Wars could have been prevented instead of death forecasted
But it seems they'd  rather people die populations maimed and blasted
The burden Sam and Frodo faced too long their quest had lasted
It could have been completed sooner if certain spells where casted
They where to suffer seemingly with rings they should have fasted
Instead of which they shared the pain with others that contrasted
Gandalf could have flown that ring without being flabergastered
But he'd rather smoke his ******* pipe and surprisingly get plastered

Battles ensued that needn't have been so was that really fair?
Gimli will have to get his axe out so you better all beware
He'll team up with Legolas and they'll **** without a care
Keeping score of all their kills cos they are a strange old pair
Aragorn would join them and he'd take on his fare share
But Legolas was a nice boy with his lovely long blonde hair
He liked to score with Gimli perhaps he had that certain flair
I'm not sure which way his arrow went I'd ask but I don't dare
Was it fair on Frodo the heavy burden was his own nightmare
Especially when Gollum leads you into a trap inside of Shelobs lair

The anger of Samwise Gamgee at Gollums treachery and betrayal
Fat Hobbitses don't like Smeagol a defence that was quite frail
With Frodo succumbing to the ring it's to late for him to bail
He wished the ring had not come to him afraid that he may fail
So do all that see such times when you could fall off the rail
Isn't that how its always been with the kings you have to hail
It's bad enough taking the ring when your led right off the trail
And maybe facing certain death not knowing if you'll avail
Don't let the ring take control or you'll end up going pail
Bilbo has already been there and back again in a Hobbits Tale

The great horn sounds attacking Orc's and 100's of their creed
A valiant fight but to no avail when protection takes the lead
The wooded Hill of Amon Hen Boromir died of his last deed
On the grassy ***** near Parth Galen the death of lust and greed
If he didn't want the ring so much there may have been no need
For hordes of Orc's to strike him down with arrows of great speed
Aragorn's comfort of a dying man a confession to take heed
He tried to take Frodo's ring so now his heart will bleed
Men will die and get obsessed the one true ring will breed
Rings will come and rings will go so don't you spread their seed

To gain the power of the ring many battles have been fought
If the ring wasn't so desirable then we wouldn't all get caught
Killing was Smeagol's desire his stressed mind in distraught
Deagol's demise to obtain the ring is what Smeagol sought
A birthday demand a savage rage a strangled death resort
Gladen River's legacy Smeagol's friend killed in a fraught
Downward spirals of sheer desire is what the ring has brought
Gollums years of torment but still nothing has been taught
If you don't resist the ring you'll lose your male support
The power of the ring's too great and far to hard to thwart

A sneaky ******* in our midst the slime was almost dripping
The foulness of this slimy guy Theoden chilled heart ripping
Chief adviser to his feeble king the oldness of poison sipping
Exposed as Saruman's agent and spy allegiances kept flipping
A name like Grima Wormtongue you'd expect a double tipping
Unless he used his wormy tongue for a tonguing and a slipping
A henchmen of the slimiest order his tongue is always dripping
Stabbing Saruman in the back his treachery deserves a clipping
Escaping from their Orc captives good old merry and pippin
Treebeards wooden victories he'll give those Orcs a whipping

The towering strength of fourteen feet and a unique repartee
He Ent stumped and he Ent felled and he's not potpourri
Do not be hasty in times of need take notice of our plea
With Meriadoc and Peregrin they where the power of three
Going to war that mighty oak for cutting down the tree
Branching out coz he's hacked off at Saruman's killing spree
He'll ******* stick one on you so those Orcs they better flee
Cos his wood, timber and leaf are his trunks aristocracy
So don't you ******* Treebeard because you will not foresee
His bark is worse than his bite and his log's his legacy

Death is just another path give me a ******* brake
But being a lord of a ring that is a big mistake
Forging of these ****** rings why are they on the make
The one true ring that ruled them all off this I can forsake
How many wars have been lost how many lost their stake
With people killed and deaths occurred within a battles wake
At helmsdeep Gandalf the White returned from grey opaque
Sword aloft taking a stand making those Orc ******* quake
On the back of Shadowfax the rumbling ground will shake
It would not have happened if the rings where ******* fake

Sharp black mountains up winding stairs was Smeagols secret way
He'll Lead Frodo into a trap he'll make those nasty hobbits pay
The heaviness of stagnant air the darkness consumes the day
Unaware of what awaits when SHE comes out to play
Weaving webs of shadows the dankness of black and grey
Deep inside of that dark lair is where Mr Frodo lay
The Phial of Galadriel's silver light keeping darkness at bay
Sam's glimmer of hope the Elvin blade Shelob he tried to slay
Feeling the 'Sting' of Sam's despair he made that spider sway
Dark defeated by the light but Gollums pleasures gone astray

Arriving at the fires of mount doom the volcano's of Mordor
Destroy the ring throw it in the fire but Frodo wanted more
Just let it go and don't hesitate what are you waiting for
As Sam looks on the ring is mine Frodo's last withdraw
******* the ring is hard enough especially if your not sure
Don't be too obsessed like Gollum was by being the rings *****
The following of footsteps Gollum's foul bite of blood and gore
Frodo's severed finger ring lost from a blooded scarlet claw
The joy of regaining 'My Precious' was Gollums goal and law
Falling in the fires of mount doom his death ended Frodo's chore

With Gollums Demise the ring destroyed our stories nearly told
Mount Doom has fell all things must end including rings of gold
Mordor has crumbled the defeat of Sauron and enemy's of old
Great Eagles came Frodo and Sam saved from Mordors fiery fold
Frodo's fellowship reunion at the bedside of the brave and bald
They'll never be the same again but no longer Orced or Trolled
Cheering crowds the Return of the King Arwen's beauty to behold
The Hobbits bow before the king but they really should withhold
My friends you bow to no one kings honour for the hobbits mould
A kneeling of the whole kingdom bestowed the Hobbits over bowled

Thirteen months to the day our returning to bag end
A familiar sight our home the Shire we left to defend
The beginning of the fourth age Sam's marriage to attend
Sam's choice of bride Rosie Cotton his wife to wed intend
Home at the Shire was too hard to fully comprehend
For Frodo's old threads of life the bonds of a true friend
There is no going back some things time cannot mend
Some hurts they go to deep the book that he now penned
The completion of Lord of the Rings a few pages to extend
Giving the manuscript for Sam to continue the written trend

The galleon is waiting and its time to break the chain
Bilbo's journeys are over the last ship to leave the main
The time of men has come and the end of the rings reign
Gandalf's work was over the brave Hobbits teary strain
True endings of the fellowship seas call us home again
Don't be sad and do not weep but Frodo felt the pain
Not all tears are evil Gandalf knew of Frodo's wane
A departure of emotion the tears they could not retain
The saving of the shire but it isn't quite that plain
Frodo's sad farewell the Gray Heavens don't refrain

The fellowships disbanded but as if that wasn't known
Quests for gold are no more the dead are dust and bone
Elvish has left the building the trolls have turned to stone
The one true ring has been lost so its no longer shown
Hobbits are back in their holes so all of them will groan
Hords of Orcs have now ****** off after lowering the tone
Towers have been toppled, Mount Doom's collapsed and blown
Gollum has lost his precious so he'll have good cause to moan
The Dwarfs are not around no more cos their not all fully grown
Ring bearers have been and gone so they'll be on their own
The king has now returned and he's got his ******* Throne
The story has now ended but you know how far we've flown
So thank you J.R.R Tolkien thanks for your story loan
But it isn't exactly Lord of the rings so its not a ****** clone
Classy J Sep 2016
Friendships are easy to lose when you play competitive videogames, rage quits and pride on the line, and yeah that's when things get insane. Smash bros, tekken, street fighter, king of fighters and mortal kombat, the greatest fighting games to ever come out of game designers hats. Its magic man, its addictive like gambling, who is the best gamer and who is a noob that everyone be trampling. Gg bro, even though we don't mean it though, your not as good as us, compared to us you are nothing but a ***. Powning and owning all you suckers, PC or console gaming, either way you are bound to find some trolling little *******. Gamer life, and one aspect of the nerd life, but there is more to our expansive life. There are the: know it all’s who can reference anything and corrects everything everyone says, and if you can't keep up, you can have a nice day. Star trek and star wars, collecting action figures that are definitely not dolls, roll them dice boy to see if our clan survives going down the falls. Dungeons and dragons, role-playing in a fantastic fantasyland, joining clubs like board games, videogames, writing, reading or band. Make fun of us now, but in the future we could be your bosses, so think about the next time you say that were wasting time trying to beat a dark souls boss. Cosplaying and reading comic books, this is the nerd life man, relaxing in our snuggies and croc's. Don't judge us without getting to know us, who knows you might want to get on the nerd bus. On a mission like Frodo or harry, going faster than the speed force just call us Barry. Feeling lucky punk, riding over you like a monster truck. Nintendo, Sony, Microsoft, steam, Sega, and PC, may just be me but I love it all, I'm not picky I appreciate things as they are like Marvel and DC.  Go go gadget, hate getting stuck traffic, I'm not the killer, I'm as innocent as Rodger rabbit. Please Ed, edd, and eddy, don't need to cause a scene because that would be pretty petty. What's the sitch wade, better beat those bad guys that choose to miss behave even if it effects my school grade. Kids that watch Cartoon Network nowadays will never how awesome it used to be, shows like samurai jack, power puff girls, Johnny bravo or Dexter’s laboratory. Duck hunting, ****** tunes and chill binge on anime and the only slam-dunk we do is Denny's pancakes sorry Shaquille O’Neal. Pocket protecting fiends; not to good at puberty, man we spending it all watching reality kings. New beginnings, love seeing what’s new at e3 each year, except for waiting for that game to arrive, counting the days till it finally appears. This the Nerd life, I may have never got the attention of girls when I was young but who knows I may just find myself a nerd wife. I can't wait to show my kids all that I know, the circle of life man, now I have a new perspective on watching this kid of mine grow. Future hopes, future class blasting off into possibilities, nerd life man better build up my durability.
Rudolph Musngi Jun 2014
Up and down, left and right, salt and pepper
black and white, twist and shout, pen and paper
North and south, pork and beans, chips and dip
*** and coke, q and u, paper and clip

Bacon and eggs, back and forth, biscuits and teas
Remote and TV, a pod with two peas
Yin and Yang, hand and glove, bread and butter,
hand and foot, mac and cheese, land and water

Abott and Costello, Tom and Jerry
Ron and Hermione, Harry and Ginny
Mutt and Jeff, Jack and Jill, Holmes and Watson
Jobs and Wozniak, Delilah and Samson

Tom and Huck, J and K, Tarzan and Jane
Frodo and Sam, Clark Kent and Lois Lane
Batman and Robin, Romeo and Juliet
Hansel and Gretel, Browning and Barret

There are many things that go together
But nothing will ever be as clever
Nothing will ever be as perfect, too
than my favorite pair called me and you.
http://rudolphmusngi.com/things-that-go-together/
Tommy Johnson Apr 2014
Winnie the Pooh is trying to think
As are Plato and Socrates
While The Little Rascals get rambunctious
And The Marx Brothers cause calamities
Jim Jones stirs the Kool-Aid
And Georgie Porgie makes his move
Bo Peep and Miss Muffett start to blush
Red Ridding hood just swoons
The Muffin Man does a deal
With Johnny Apple seed
These beings and people our real
In our Surreal Reality

******* lets the paint splatter
And Moses parts the sea
Belushi buys an eight-ball
Bruce is on trial for obscenity
Rorschach is on the case
Right behind Sherlock Holmes
John the baptist goes for a swim
Along with Brian Jones
Jack and Jill meet Hansel and Gretel
They're hungry, they're thirsty
These figments of imagination do exist
In our Surreal Reality

Rasputin was so evil
As bad as Captain Hook
Now was it ** Chi Minh or Nixon
Who said "I am not a crook?"
Mao Zedong looked at Stalin
With a shared murderous grin
Booth stormed the Ford theater
And shot President Lincoln
Kennedy and King we're both casualties
Of the process of the deciphering
Of our Surreal  Reality

Zeus said to Aphrodite
"Wow, you look real good tonight"
And Handel says "Hallelujah!"
As the Wright Brothers take flight
Baby Face Nelson
Teams up with Dillinger
Moe, Larry and Curly
Mengele, Mussolini and Adolf ******
Three bears, three little pigs
Along with three blind mice
Sit together, while Maurice Sendack
Cooks them chicken soup with rice
Charlie Bucket had a buy out
Wonka gave up his factory
Fiction or nonfiction it's all a apart
Of our Surreal Reality

Chicken Little tried his best
To warm The Little Red Hen
Of the sly trickster
They call Rumpelstiltskin
Rimbaud applauds Leonidas
And his 300's final stand
Da vinci  paved the way
For both Newton and Edison
Folklore and war heroes
And those with intellectual mentality
Are all just pieces
Of our Surreal Reality

Wee Willie Winkie's scream
Wakes up Rip Van Winkle
But not Sleeping Beauty who's been asleep for thirty years
But has no acquired a single wrinkle
Caligula has lost his mind
And Nero's lost his fiddle
What does Beethoven's hearing aid
Have to do the March Hare's riddle?
Abbie Hoffman fights for civil rights
Thomas Jefferson for democracy
Products of the conceptual
In our Surreal Reality

Berryman writes an ode
To Washington's wooden teeth
Manson speaks of Helter Skelter
Neruda damns the fruit company
Charles Schultz frames the story
And Seuss gives it rhyme
Some where far, far away
Taking place once upon a time
And the villagers all had omelettes
Thanks to clumsy Humpty Dumpty
It's all food for thought
In our Surreal Reality

Santa brings us presents
And Cupid bring us love
But we can never get back
The members of the 27 Club
Warhol makes his movies
And Buddha meditates
Joseph Smith reads the golden plates
Mohammed and Jesus save
Theses figures bring people hope
In life's dualities
Trusting faith
And our Surreal Reality


Han Solo is in carbon freeze
Don Juan's preoccupied
Sinbad sets his sails
Simple Simon didn't get his pie
Caesar looked at Brutus
Brutus looked at Saddam Hussein
Hussein looked at L. Ron Hubbard
Who prayed to Eloheim  
Dionysus can out drink us all
We cringe at Achilles fatality  
As Ra soars through the skies
Of our Surreal Reality

Aristotle says to Shakespeare
"Well Billy you old bard"
Frodo trades the ring of power
To Fidel Castro for a Babe Ruth Baseball card
Biggie and Tupac write their lyrics on paper
Ted Bundy is put in jail
They're making another skyscraper
For King Kong to scale
Hemingway is too far gone
Kant's take on morality
Einstein says it's all relative
In our Surreal Reality

Churchill said victory
John Lennon said peace
Judas gave back the silver
Then hung himself in a tree
Tojo and Kim Jong-il
Wanna be as cool as Brando and Dean
George Carlin warned us all
Now Hermes leaves the scene
So do the butcher, the baker and the candle stick maker
Followed by Old King Cole and his Fiddlers Three
As they make their way to find
A sense or Surreal Reality

Odysseus pines for Ithaca
Paul Bunyan chops the trees
The Jersey Devil has not been found
Noah herds the animals by twos not threes
Anubis wraps the mummies
And Augustus leads Rome
Bugs Bunny laughs with Pryor
All at the expense of Job
So what can we all make of this
Is this all actuality?
Symbolism or nonsense?
Realistic Surrealism or Surreal Realty?
Leon Hart Mar 2013
This is for the soul searchers
This is for the song writer who feels like who he is doesn’t fill the space

of who he was meant to be. This is for the depressed cigarette smoking chain smokers.
This is for the poet who writes a thousand lines and keeps them all to
herself, because nobody else deserves to hear them.
This is to fight the starless sky of every midnight wanderer who looks up
wondering, cause if there were more like you the night time streets wouldn’t be so empty.
This is for the traveler who never got a chance and lies below a rock with
his name.
I don’t even know if I’m old enough to say it, but it’s for the generations
of baby boomers of old women and men whose ideas and values are shushed by an obnoxious generation.
This is for the wedding planners whose weddings never seem to come.
This is for the beautiful girls that somebody told otherwise.
This is for the 15 year old gang member who can’t leave.
This is for the second place finishers and the C students.
This is for the guitar strings never threaded and the scripts never
written and the thrill voices that never cried hallelujah because they didn’t believe they could.
This is for the incapable,
Because you and me both are incapable.
This is so you can look at me differently like I was an amputee.
And what I’ve had cut away was my expectations.
I was supposed to be huge—
I was supposed to be the first rose ever planted in the desert—
I was supposed to be the first paint on the ceiling in the Sistine chapel—
I was supposed to be either Axel Rose or Frodo Baggins, and whether
you’re cool or not you understand that line.
I was supposed to be the first pope with a full body tattoo—
I was supposed to be Neil Armstrong—
I was supposed to be the first life on another planet—
I was supposed to be bleeding iron and nails—
If you saw me as I was supposed to be the contrast between me and the
rest of the world would be unbearable, but I’m incapable.
‘Cause nobody ever pushed me,
Nobody ever pushed me,
Nobody ever pushed me and said:
Be something bigger,
Be something bigger,
Be something!

Nobody ever told me I had the power to leave a hole when I withdraw
my hand from water or move a crowd with mere words or play notes on a piano like bullets to your eardrums.
And in all of this, I wonder if the big things know how important they
are, because I’m a mustard seed and nobody expects me to move a mountain,
Or even cover its slopes in yellow.
But I still feel vastly important, so what then?
So this is my push, my push that you may never get from another person, ever. So, listen carefully:

I EXPECT A LOT OUT OF YOU.

Don’t be discouraged when you can’t cross one line, ‘cause you’ll pass a
hundred others learning you can’t go over one.
This is a dare: go to your fridge and get out all your eggs and put them in
one basket and tell me if you’re still incapable.
And if you are, go back to your fridge and get all your egg based
products, ‘cause you missed them, you missed them and you need them and the neighbors not lending any ingredients.
And when you get there, wherever it is that I pushed you to, don’t worry
about telling me—
Cause I
Will notice
And most of all remember that if you’ve been pushed, if you’ve really
been pushed, you’ll be dearly missed when you’re gone.

                                                         -Marty Schoenleber III
The Princebles Office better known  as the Dragg queens lair.

This time it's it!
You demented twisted drunken *******.
from the veins that shown so easily from Sir Eltons  neck i could
tell it must be a bad hair day.
That and  he was trying to butter me up with all the compliments

****** harassment,Encouraged drug use,Public displays of insanity,
******* indecent act's with a animal oh wait that's the artist formely known as jack horner.

As this sad little dwarf from a strange planet called London ranted and rubbed the fact in my face that yet there was one rule i hadnt broken
****** man whats a girl gotta do to get some attention?

It's it ive gotta list of angry sensitive people who are friends with benfits  who  want you gone!
How could this be?
Had the world gone insane or caught some std that slowley eats away  
your brain slowley making you think that Justin Bieber had talent?

Dear lord it was reffer madness all over again.
Well Frodo theres only one solution I exclaimed.
His face red eyes mentally ******* me jesus man must have been
missing happy hour at the shire.

Well pippy  they'll all just have to go  im mean what would
funhouse be without a ***** old pervert  to feel up the costumers?
Dam you  Francis Ford Copela
What the hells wrong with you?

The question hung in the air like a **** in church
So many things made one Gonzo.
Not enough hugs  to little wild turkey.
And not using protection.
Remember kids always fasten your saftey belts get your heads outta the gutter.

The list read like a who's who of people who really needed
to get a life  or laid maybe even by there wife.
After hours okay maybe the rest of my bottle of wild turkey
it was decided  once again  i was the black sheep and no one
wanted to play anymore oh well i'll just do what the staff of the drag queens lair does and play with myself.

But enough with the foreplay children.
so many things i had learned  like  well ummm?
Okay maybe nothing at all  i knew i should have tuffed it out and
got through   kinder garden.

As I cleaned out my desk I reflected apon old times.
The laughter  the time i set fire to grandma's cat  and blamed it on my
little brother eventhough i didnt  have one.
Wait wrong memory.
  
The road ahead uncertin my mind unclear.
My inner child hurting in need of a really hot comfort cuddle maybe
from someone with a inner ****.

As I began my long walk of shame much like a woman who relized
she made a big mistake with her boss lastnight.
It's hell working in the family  business.

I passed old faces  all  pretty much thinking i was full of it as usal
turned and in my grown up ****** with a heart of gold voice said.

No one puts baby in a corner!
Sometimes you gotta  stand up for things  or do like me and blame it on others   and I cant belive  not even a single  free bottle of ***** or a concert  or maybe a lap dance  yeah  it's really went down hill
girlfriend oh snap.

Guess i'll just go  dont try to stop me.
Hmm tuff crowd   well  stay crazy amigos.
And as i closed the door i could feel the sadness.
There was a great racket coming from inside.

I knew it the heartbreak was so terrible these people were destroyed.
Why even as i opened   the door and saw them swingin from the hey what the ****?

All eye's turned  the music died.
Dear lord people  really?
Even my 50 pen names?

Im okay  well  the cake saying good riddance hurts a bit
But it taste great and the margarita's nice touch.
After such a outrage I was left with only one choice
steal as much **** as could  flip frodo the bird.
spike the punch   okay maybe  do a little dance make a  little
Gonzo once later  id demand  a blood test for and shut the hell up for good tonight.

The door slammed shut like my wifes legs after she relized her sisters baby  really had a strange fondness for wild turkey.
All sat around wondering will this long *** write ever end ?

Chris looked at the artist formely known as Jack Horner.
Speaking in that slow **** seductive  voice of his.
Ya think the crazy ******* is really gone.
To which my crazy amigo across the pond replyed.

**** no he does that every other week.
And besides  thats the door to the janitors closet.
Hey I know theres a millon jokes in that one dam you R Kelly
When it comes to crazy theres only one Gonzo.
Thank God stay crazy.

And if I offended anyone ya really need to download
a sense of humor.

I write what I want and no matter if ya love or hate me
ya dam sure wont ever forget me.

Drink laugh and enjoy it while ya can cheers my friends
Ronald D Lanor May 2013
What's up, Chicken Little? Whatchu think you know?
The sky is fallin', Skittles droppin’ out the rainbow.
Don’t hate me cuz I’m fast. Don’t hate me cuz I’m keen.
Hate me cuz I got more tiger’s blood than Charlie Sheen.

My rappin’ is a skill, wait, matter fact a habit.
This rhyme is so rare I threw a Masterball at it.
Ima get you to the point when you done think you had it
then keep on chuggin’ through like the Energizer Rabbit.

Runnin’ this game since I was born in 1990.
Ball so hard like Waldo everybody wants to find me.
Watch me as I fly free, practicing my Tai Chi,
soarin’ through the sky like Ben Franklin with his kite key.

I slay wicked verses like they fire breathin’ dragons.
Always down for an adventure so they call me Bilbo Baggins.
You got your feet draggin’ from all your pithy laggin’.
Chokin’ on my farts, left you in my dust gaggin’.

My girls be elegant while yours be nothing but ******.
No diamonds in my ears cuz I don’t like to be flashy.
You just can’t get past me, kilo in the backseat.
NOS tank in the front so them piggies can’t get at me.

Lyrics like the plague so they call my **** Bubonic.
Sittin’ at the bar gettin’ drunk on gin and tonic.
Blowin’ on that chronic, so fast they call me Sonic.
Watch me transform as I go Megatronic.

Is my **** too fast? You need to stop and smell the flowers?
I am just a human, I ain't got no special powers.
I could go for hours. The rap game I devour.
Like Frodo with the ring takin’ down the Two Towers.

My rhymes are heavy duty while yours be made of plastic.
Better call the Doctor cuz this **** is getting’ drastic.
Snap back like elastic, I made an instant classic.
Light the roof on fire with a flick of my matchstick.

I’m tellin’ all them haters that I’m wicked sick nasty.
Dissin’ all they want to but they too scared to come at me.
I go where the cash be, rappin’ makes me happy.
Don’t wash my hair for days cuz I like that **** *****.

All I really wanna do is have a rap battle
cuz my rhymes are so disgusting they’ll make your head rattle.
You’re in a boat with no paddle, on a horse with no saddle.
It’s lookin like you’re gonna hafta ******* straddle.

I know I have the sickest flow that you have ever felt.
There’s nothin’ you can do it’s just the hand that I was dealt.
Killa Kraig will make you melt, yes it matters how it’s spelt.
Get it right the first time or I’ll leave you with a ******' welt.

My game will give you chills from your head down to your feet.
Sittin’ on the couch cuz I love to chill with Pete.
I’m the man to beat cuz I bring all the heat.
Grew up in the burbs, didn’t grow up on the street.

They gave me a gold medal when I scored a perfect 10
cuz I got the versatility of an erasable pen.
Singin’ like a ren, no need to pretend.
Murkin’ rhymes like zombies like my Asian friend Glenn.

Honesty’s a virtue so you know I never front it.
Always swingin’ for a homer, ain’t no need to ever bunt it.
Now you really done it, watch me as I run it.
I made it to the center of the Tootsie Pop in one lick.

Crusin’ round town in my green 6-4 Impala.
Drop so many bombs that you think I worship Allah.
Dolla’ after dolla’, cute as a koala,
but ruthless as a renegade Viking in Valhalla.

My lyrics kick you in the nuts now you talkin’ like a munchkin.
Drop you to the floor like some Mohammed Ali punchin’.
Where is Conjunction Junction? Do the number crunchin’.
Get you home by midnight so you don’t turn into a pumpkin.

Stickin’ to the game like some universal duct tape.
Give you three tries while I nail it in one take.
I'm the sugar on the cornflake, the reason for an earthquake.
I'll toss you like a salad or a chicken in some Shake n’ Bake.

Now grab a pen a paper cuz here’s the final lesson.
I know who’s on first so now tell me what’s on second.
I did the number checkin’, I’m the best I reckon.
While you standin’ at the wrong end of my ******’ Smith & Wesson.
SøułSurvivør Feb 2016
here's a tale I will tell
of the supreme Master
of Rivendell
elfin Lord, just and wise
knowledge deep as elvish skies
darkly handsome, unearthly fair
silver circlet, midnight hair
greatest Power for him alone
eyes as deep as river stones
grey and lustrous, holding grace
broad of shoulder, fair of face
aquiline nose, chiseled jaw
Master of the Elves. Their law.
of his mercy his people sing
possessor of the elvish Ring
one of three, such Power possessed
he's the Lord, and thusly blessed
he's seen grief and was forsaken
his beloved wife was taken
to Mordor and was in suffering bound
with the Orcs deep underground
father of the maid Arwen
who's in love with the human King
deep pain of mind, Elrond's aware
that he must leave this daughter there
in human kingdom Middle Earth
for her love has lifetime worth
but Strider will soon pass away
while Arwen has immortal days
though her love's surpassing fine
she will one day weep and pine
without her husband, all alone
for her people will be gone
they will one day sail far
following an elvish star
and of Frodo he's aware
the Hobbit will go to Sauron's lair
generous, gentle, yet supremely strong
he will help Frodo along
elvish war-mail and provision
he directs with great vision

noble King of Rivendell
at once gracious
yet mighty, fell
his word, ever,
is his bond
Hobbit friend
the great

ELROND


SoulSurvivor
(C) 2/5/2016
I have a great love for
JRR Tolkien
If you have never read
The Hobbit
or his Ring series
you should

Reading is better than movies!
By the Spanish Arch
a few kind crusty folks
talk in the March sunlight.

Soft incantations of sweet trad
spill from a concertina, tin whistle
and fiddle, sloshing out an ambiance.

An old fella' makes a poor man's black velvet,
The ladies drink Estrella Galicia and San Miguel.
Another lad jokes: my grief counselor died last week

but he was so **** good I didn't care.

A motley crew, good-natured and friendly,
Drawn to session like moths to a flame;
Always I wonder whether I belong.

"I think in his heart Frodo is still in love with the Shire:
The woods, the fields…little rivers. I'm old Gandalf.
I know I don't look it, but I'm beginning to feel it"
Lines Fourteen to Sixteen from The Lord of The Rings.
Samantha Sep 2013
Outcasted kid with purple hair

Albeit not the kind of violet
That made your nostrils drip
With a watery ambrosia
Sugary enough to belong to a bee

And not the kind of
heavy, royal, omnipresent
contentment plum presents as a
molten lava
perfecting the pockmarks in the pie

My tendrils were not reminiscent of
home or
anything savoury so

I tangled them in tiaras
belonging to some Duchess' daughter or
one of Henry's wives or

Maybe twined them round
Frita's pallet and
Dyed my scalp a more pleasing hue or
Anything other than purple

Because purple was what I was not
Purple was Lilacs and
Pansies and Heliotropes and Tulips and
Lavender and

That little wild flower aforementioned

whose name I can't bare say
for the sake of
a humble beauty
such as hers

'twould be a shame to make comparable
To the wet-dog-fur look
Of my purple hair

And so I learned to get lost

In a past I always felt my own
Traveling continents and
Floating through eons

While my classmates  coloured in
British Columbia and
Where is Nunavut again?

Growing, I gained companions

A faery,
Athena,
Aslan and
Frodo, Einstein, Plato,
Theodore Geisel, Mahatma Ghandi
and Louis Leakey, Jamal Dewar,
Joan of Arc and John Lennon and
it all became
more complicated

Because my world was in flux
Oh it ebbed and it flowed and it expanded
Like the molten plum but this time
It really was more like lava

Assuredly you'll understand;
See the seams in our stitching!
Our Worlds are sewn together!

And as much as we would like
to cling to our
individualism

at some point we all must
accept that there is
but one

Intrinsic as our innards
Are our atoms and
Electrons and
mine are yours and
yours are hers and
ours together are all of the stars and
it really is
beautiful

At some point the twisting shroud
The squeezing and contracting -
of the world inside my head and
the world inside my eyes and
the world I was walking around in
and the world that I saw above me -
it tensed then halted
and became very dense
then melted

What a glorious
Ubiquitous, secure and everlasting amalgamation!
I opened my eyes
To find Van Goghs Scissors
All bloodied still and so
I cleaved my purple hair

But to find Hieronymus' oils and
watercolours so
I made my skin a hellish canvas
Painted all in yellows and blues
Without a hint of purple

Now from shoulders to forearm to wrist
from breast to navel to hip
from thigh to calf to foot
legible as anything are
lines that lilt and gleam
sighing songs of
devils and cherubs alike
and of sparrows and snakes

So after heaven is hell
and after hell is Nirvana
And Manna is as good as dirt
if Ambrosia is but
the spit of a bee

It all always works out
Because at the end comes
Death and after that
We don't know
But I do know that
I don't know
Much at all to begin with

Except for four things, almost assuredly:
1. Energy is all
2. I will never cease to find shouting at people from my bedroom or a car window amusing
3. My mother loves me more than anyone
4. Nothing is certain, except for uncertainty
I feel relieved of some burden wowza! Time to clean my room. Have a good day dearest readers and content skimmers.
Little Bear Mar 2016
In the stories that I read as a child,
the leading character was always the hero.
And, I always imagined the hero to be tall and strong,
handsome and capable.
Maybe they were loud, brash and brave.
But they were always fearless.
Displaying outstanding courage in the face of adversity.
Seeking justice, going to war,
doing battle with those
who would destroy us all...
us being..
the little guy..

They were never the little guy.
They were always someone who I would never be.
To me well, I would always be the one getting saved
and not the one doing the saving.

And as I grew up I realised, to my horror,
that none of this was real.
Heros like this did not exist and that real life is most certainly not a fairy tale.
And some of it, stranger than any fiction I've ever read,
and believe me,
I've read some ****....

'Heros' like this will very rarely come to save you.
But, I will tell you something...
If there is one thing in life I have learned it would be that,
there are heros,
and those heros are in fact...
us.
The little guy.
Me
and You.

And... In our own stories,
we get to play the leading character..
but only if we choose to.

You see...
In fairy tales you do indeed have the fearless warrior.
They dance and sing their way through the stories,
where the village is saved, the wicked witch is destroyed,
were monsters are caged and villains are brought to justice.

But,
more often than not,
the real hero of those stories
is the little princess
who wields the frying pan.
The young girl from the village
who cuts off her hair
and defeats a whole army.
The girl in a small town
who loves to read
and shows real courage and tames the beast.
The boy who,
over coming his physical disabilities,
tames and flies,
of all things,
a dragon.
Showing the whole town he is indeed..
a warrior.

And I could not continue this long *** analogy
without mentioning the story of Frodo and Sam.
Through the mines of Moria,
across the dead marshes and lets not forget who defeats Shelob...
on to Mordor where they reach mount Doom.
Almost defeated, Frodo could not take another step
when carrying the ring,
it was just too much to bear
to finally put in the fire of mount Doom.

And then, even after being sent home,
it was actually Sam..
Sam the gardener,
Sam the loyal companion who faithfully,
with courage and determination,
carried Frodo and battles on to the end.
He,
Sam the gardener,
was the real hero of the story.

Time and time again it will be the little guy who saves the day,
time and time again it's the little guy,
the underdog,
the one least likely to succeed
who will be the true hero.
They will have been told they are not smart,
worth nothing,
are unimportant.
Sound familiar?

They will have been through many trails and tribulations,
many which could and in fact should
have brought them to their knees,
but it didn't,
it hasn't...

Because,
like us little guys,
they know what is right,
they know what is good
and they know that they must carry on
because,
if they don't,
well...
the bad guy wins.

And it is the same for us in our every day lives.
And in our own stories you will find,
you have the biggest part to play.
Should you choose to play it.

We face our own villains, demons and ogres.
For us these come in the form of anxiety,
depression, addiction,
abusive partners,
disability and a thousand other things
that can and does bring us to our knees.

And time after time you will show courage
when you think you have none.
You will be brave when you think you are not.
You will carry on,
even when you are face down in the dirt.
I too have been there,
many times.

And sometimes,
things are so desperate,
too hard for us to bear alone.
We can't be all that we want to be..
and so enters our story...
our friends.

In almost every story I have ever read,
in every moment that I thought I could not carry on,
there will be someone else
who sneaks up beside me...

And these will be our companions,
our sidekicks,
our friends.
They will be the ones who hold us up.
Those who will cheer us on.
Those who will mop our brow,
straighten our collar and send us out fighting again.
They too are the heros,
and where indeed would we be
without them?

So please,
take heart that we do not travel this journey alone.
We are not the only one in our story.
There will be others to help us along the way.

Some may stay for only a page or two,
some for a few chapters,
and others you won't be able to shake
for love nor money..

And so,
when things are at their worst,
when it is the darkest hour,
when all seems lost,
they too will be there,
at your side..
you just might have to write them in.

And they will be with you.
Being the little guy.
The hero.
Right along side us..
****.. sorry it's long..
My excuse is that writing is my one true love.
I just wanted to write about the heros,
our friends, in our ordinary lives..
and this happened :o)

Probably quite **** really but I got carried away.
B Young Feb 2015
The suburban housewives are all prostitutes.
Cuckoo CUCKOO cuckoo
Sings the cuckolded husband
Bury the demons in the backyard,
Jack.
Decomposing rotting souls
Enriching the soil
Get rich without any toil.

Step
Outside

A glance to heavens
From the floors of a forest
Reveals a distant star.
Symbolizing neither here, near or far
A twinkling image destroys the ego
Although in this here woodland
Anything goes.
I am the king.

The truth only goes as far as the rocks thrown
So I asked the reapers which way to go
Take a trip with me down memory lane
my past has no real pain.
And no thank you I would not like any fame
I really have nothing to gain but catharsis
So please don’t call me an artist.  

I learned how to read from Frodo
Potter got me through puberty
Infinite Jest is too long
They say the strong dont read poetry
Naked Lunch ravings from a ***** gone mad
Anything discussed on Oprah during brunch is just bad
Satre and Camus too absurd
Stephen King too frightening
David Sedaris too homosexual
Chucks Palahniuk and Klosterman too hipster
The Electric Kool Aid Acid Test for van wagon hippies
Lao-Tzu is too Zen
James Paterson and John Grisham are a waste of pen
The Perks of Being a Wallflower is too needy
Just begging to be loved
Like stupid Twilight
Ann Rice already got it right
Political books are for crooks
Self Help too pretentious
God Dillusion and God’s Not Great too scary
Romances are all wrong
Farces are all right
The Torah too infallible
The Gospels too life changing
Fear and Loathing, On the Road drugged tales disguised as art
Truth can be found in A Million Little Pieces
Lies found in the truths of our textbooks
Vonnegut is always too short
Woody Allen plays never long enough
Waiting for Godot left me waiting for an ending
The Big Book didnt work
Tweak is a ****** piece of work
Henry Rollins yells Get In the Van with a vein pulsating out his forehead while,
Nikki Sixx makes millions from a marketed selling of his soul
The Hunger Games are over popular children books
Did not stop me from getting hooked
A Brave New World is a reality
Dune a vision
50 Shades a pandering to public lust
The etchings left on my mind by Supertramp McCandless and Hesse will never rust
Edward Albee is everything you could ask a play-write to be
Harmony Korine just makes me envious
Even grand mom has the collected Carlin
Twain is middle school
Hemingway high school
Coleridge is college
Dostoyevsky too daunting
French books are too ****** french
Joyce too Irish
Kafka too German
The great American novels are comic books and tabloids

I get it life is both entirely ****** and perpetually beautiful.
One needn't to read to see
Nat Lipstadt Apr 2018
a short poem

<•>

kept women

my words are all kept women;
an old fashioned term
that has no currency today
but true for me

they but be the heart of my hearts,
when they leave my employ
keep them well, these yeowomen,
good fellows all,
for they will always be your
one true reciprocating lovers

keep ‘em

please

<•>

lie

how many gray April Saturdays are inventoried,
that we be bequeathed yet another this dull day of the 7th of the 4th month,
of errands and tax preparation and poem initiative-nationhood

the city backyard is a dulled green, energy ****** by one three too many nor’easters in March that  “Sherman-through-the-south”
came marching double time,
leaving the leaves, airport-delayed
and the spring poem planting, struggling

buy milk, lie and get a refund, do stuff and
don’t forfeit forget to
do laundry and
lie

write the longest short poem in history
that green-shots nature won’t provide,
so Me absinthe wills into existence

<•>

this English Woman

tomfoolery’d me continuously,
nature comes to her on knave-bended knees begging for
a verbal sword tap upon each shoulder for a knighting of a periodical glorious poem.  

She provides.

Does woman live in a glen, upon the wetlands,
walk moors
in moons grasp,
or upon a table way in the back of the pub, drinking pints of imagination?

man will die disconnected for so many “reasons”
but if his passing precedes an answering to where,
wherever she locale composes,
man will haunt her residential terrain  happily

<•>

Seven Hours

the clock implies that the body sleet-slept, probed deep-dark for seven hours.
disbelieving, then recalling the dues Frodo-Friday eve paid:
three and half hours with two thousand others at the Opera,
hours of Placido Domingo,
extracts from the body
emotional  countenance,
homage to artistry exemplary;

the pharmacist denies having this drug among the sleep aids
so to the opera must return to earn my occasion occasional dreamland refreshment

a well worthy trade: innervation trust rest from enervation must

<•>

idiosyncratic

all my idiot life wanted to be
syncratic
unique something special different

then I realized that’s what
everyone wants and we are all idioticsyncratic

so much trying, exhausting life,
it’s wonderfully human and classically

idiotic

<•>

* Postfaces*

Postfaces are used in literary works so that non-pertinent information appears at the end, to not confuse the reader.

this very short poem was born, birthed, on a salty grey Saturday, April Seventh, Two Thousand and Eighteen,
precisely between
Eight and Nine O’clock Eastern Standard Time

The opera was Luisa Miller at the Metropolitan Opera,
Lincoln Center, New York City.  

Everything Everybody is a factual fiction of your imagination.
Short Poems are copyright, copied write from the tissue of a man who is epistemologically incapacitated in a life incapable of writing a short poem, post facing forward.

(Too **** bad for you).
I was celebrating as normal I'm not sure why besides oh yeah duh I'm the most awesome writer in the history of this site .
The bar was empty as usual the old crowd had been abducted by aliens and replaced by children whom seemed to believe I truly gave a **** that there five day relationship had just fallen apart yeah live on your own bust your *** to exist then tell me how ******* hard life is okay kiddies.

It came through the wire a message that read.
Dear Gonzo I just read your recent co write and wow was I impressed
It's so great to see established writers giving new writers like yourself a break.

It appears this juvenile hamster had smoked a little to many bath salts today for they had no clue as who my ego fed **** was how dare they.
Yes kids isn't it a shame when all the kick *** drugs were discovered by your grandparents ?

Look don't reinvent the wheel if it gets you ****** up stick with the **** that hopefully doesn't make you trip ***** and lock yourself in a closet with a butcher knife .
That's why I stick with the mild stuff like herion.

I was just about to write this writer wanna be a long and thoughtful response telling them in a mature way to go **** themselves when yet another message came in .

Hey Gonzo loved your co write I always wanted to co write with a true writer any chance you could ask Helen if she would write one with me ?

Dear lord man these kids were higher than Justin bieber's  over inflated ego yeah he's going to put out a new album yeah you been warned .
.
Another message came in in one after the other it was like I was driving a ******* ice cream truck on a hot summer day every bed wetter and ****** picker running down behind me with there snotty little dollars clutched in hand didn't these children know I hate kids .

Well all except for barley legal hot ***** with low self esteem cause I truly love helping misguided ****** yeah I know I'm such a thoughtful ******* aren't I?

I couldn't take it I slammed the laptop shut and turned up the jukebox as I poured myself a stiff drink .
At least here at the bar I could escape this insanity .
But the nightmare was far from over .

As I herd the squeal of airbrakes as a school bus came to a stop outside the bar ****** I was being invaded **** why hadn't I infested in those rabid coyotes Lilly Mae  had tried to sell me .

The little ***** hit the door like invaders across are unguarded boarders yeah do you know how many millions of those ******* Canadians slip through every day .
Yeah if only we had snipers then we never would had to listen to Nickleback.

They jumped on the pool table laughed played and really started to **** my buzz as they played there modern crap they called music .
It was like being ***** by a ****** clown and the rest of his fifty buddies that could fit in one car I swear those  *******  can pack a car better than any Mexican I've ever known and for my fellow Latino friends out there I truly meant no disrespect please don't stab me or bounce up and down on my skull with your low rider  .


Hey Gonzo the leader of this dwarf cult spoke up we want a co write with you.
Um like hell I will Frodo just take your sawed off *** and return back to the shire  okay.

**** that stupid lord of the rings joke dork don't you know harry potter is the in thing *******.
The little man had said a mouthful there and being he was a Harry Potter fan I could tell he was probably used to having his mouth full of assorted things like his nerd friends magic staff .

Look sparky or ******* or whatever the hell you name is note to anyone if you don't have *******  I probably wont care what your name is .

I truly hate kids okay and there's nothing in this world that would make me ever write anything with you so just carry your *** cause I'm sure you are missing out on some kickass time to sulk in your room that is more furnished than my entire house and post your bleeding heart sonnet all over your ex girlfriends face book wall alright.


Okay the little hamster replied .
You know Gonzo I'm real sorry you feel that way cause I was going to overlook the fact that you offered me and my friends ***** and tried to get my underage sister to flash her ******* .

It's a real shame I hate to see such a talented co writer go to waste sitting in prison but you don't want to co write with us so I fully understand .

I couldn't believe this little **** was going to blackmail me it almost brought a tear to my eye how demented he truly was .
Reminds me of myself at that age when I blackmailed my sitter into showing me her ******* ahh the preciouses memories .    

I weighed my options co write masterworks of true demented genius or play basketball with guys who had been in so long that they let me win cause I was a hot ***** .

Hmm I had to ponder that one cause I never was very good at basketball duh I'm white and slightly bad humored with racist jokes that if do offend get over yourself it's called a ******* joke okay.


Okay sparky you got yourself a cowriter but can I ask one thing first?
Sure Gonzo shoot.
Well being that I was going to be falsely accused of seeing your sisters ******* maybe I could actually see them?


I don't have a sister you perve I just said that to trap you into co writing for us and finish this stupid *** write cause it's drinking time and I got places to be people.


Until next time hamsters stay crazy Gonzo.
Jeett Ratadia Feb 2017
Hats and Hooves and Humming Birds,
Moulded cheese and strawberry Nerds,
Oh, Good Gracious Paper,
You are this poems maker,

The Lion kills, Gryffindor's dead,
the snake bites him, Slytherin lies on the bed,
The Raven caws, Ravenclaw is upset
The badger has a cold, 'Hufflepuff takes him to the vet."

"I am the Lord of the Rings", Says Mr.Frodo
Then Sauron comes out from Mordor
Gollum Screams, "Smeagol the Lord."
Boromir kills Saruman, using a sword

All ends bad, as is bad
Denethor in his house goes mad,
he burns himself and leaves Gondor sad,
Bilbo beats the old took, all because of that footpad

There is havoc, everywhere
Voldemort challenges Sauron to a dare,
Voldemort has the Elder wand,
Sauron wields the ring and jumps into a pond

They duel right there, wand and ring,
Sauron things Voldemort's a dumb thing,
Sauron wins and Voldemort flees
then Sauron boasts about his good deeds

harry's happy but Frodo's sad
and Bilbo is weeping over his lad,
Sams works for Sauron's evil garden,
and pippin lives in a barn with a hen

thank you, oh paper,
This funny poems maker,
unfortunately, I didn't write this poem on you,
I wrote it on a computer screen, nanana poopoo
Mike Hauser Sep 2015
This seems to be a lifetime journey
I'm sure more than a few can relate
Doing my best in this formidable quest
In search of the perfect toothpaste

From grocery aisles to shopping malls
To mom and pop roadside stands
Standing in line at the 5 and dime
There's no corner that I haven't been

Looking for the flavor to which my teeth savor
From blue to green to red peppermint
I've tried bubblegum and for meat lovers, bacon
Even the new cinnamon no rinse

But it's not only the flavor that's concerning
It also has to do with the foam
While brushing my teeth in the morning
I look like a rabid dog on the roam

So it's back to the store in search of much more
I feel like Frodo Baggins the Hobbit
From top shelf to floor in this my Middle Earth
Until the elusive paste I have got it

Yes, my friend like you I'll keep trying
For the toothpaste that removes any doubt
But until then I'll toss them into the bin
Saved up for the day I caulk my house
Don Bouchard Nov 2014
"Come, Mr. Frodo!
I can't carry it for you,
But I can carry you."

"There's some good in this world,
Mr. Frodo, and it's worth fighting for."

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

Where would a Hobbit be
Were he struggling alone
Without the tugging hands of
True and loyal friend?

How would a hobbit
Stand a hope
Had he to face the evils
In his world on his own?

How high would any hobbit
Struggle Mordor's smoking sides
Alone,
Neck bound around,
Burdened with golden ring
Whispering its seduction...
A ring so powerful
As to rule us all?
Don Bouchard Aug 2013
How was it there in Isengard,
Former haven of the proud,
Whose hollowed valley hid the rot
Beneath its treeless hills,
Ancient machinations tunneled far below
The smooth, impervious tower of Saruman,
The Iridescent Dazzler,
Whose quiet words slipped Sauron's thoughts
Inside our weaker minds?

Venom running hot...then changing cold
Within old Saruman on Gandalf's salutation:
"Saruman the White,"
Changing Truth for truths,
Something totally desired.

"I prefer Saruman the White!"
I think old Gandalf said
While he was still "The Gray,"
(Just before his lofty spire stay).

But evil magic has its ends,
Tendrils turn upon themselves,
Vines tangling slow or fast,
Returning to the evil doer's door
While Good climbs steadily to new beginnings
Rooted in the Old and True,
Reaching for the sun.

Old Ents in righteous anger
Broke dams, diverted streams to flood
The war machines of Isengard,
Drove Orcs and Wargs and Trolls to doom,
Drowned the furnaces...
Then, mourning tree-limbed kin,
Greeted Gandalf on his way to greater things,
And pledged themselves to holy war.

Saruman the Proud,
The sooty iridescent,
The abject coward,
Stripped of power,
Fled unrepentant
Into the mists of Middle Earth
While Sauron's eye glared
West and East,
Wraith-seeking
Frodo and
The Ring.
“I know. It's all wrong. By rights we shouldn't even be here. But we are. It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened?
But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something. Even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back only they didn't. Because they were holding on to something."

FRODO: "What are we holding on to, Sam?"
SAM: "That there's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it's worth fighting for."
Charlie Hazels May 2014
You said I was Alaska- its true
But I'm not gonna crash that car.
I replied 'then you're the Colonel'
And you're much better- by far.

You always said you were Lennie
And this I was George- the clever one.
But I am the fool and you are the brighter,
You'll be around when I'm gone.

You always thought you were Ron
And me Hermione- I guess so.
But then who's Harry- *** we're not gonna marry
It's you- you are the hero.

I reckon I'm Eragon- the wanna be warrior
With a lot to learn.
But I've Saphira by my side
Level-headed fun and stern.

I'm Frodo- I keep going,
But weakness roots in my heart
In you I have found my Sam,
Won't let me fall back to the start.

Asterix the bright and clever-
Always knows what to do.
I follow- a faithful Obelix,
I'll always look to you.

And if I am truly Odin then you are Asgard itself.
How many other ways can I describe our friendship?
Your are Peter the rock-
And I am Thomas the doubter.
Me and my best friend- squished into characters.
Kyle Gene Burke Dec 2011
I'm going to take a shower and then, this day is mine.
It may be 2 pm and yes, maybe I only woke up and hour ago, but that's fine.
Time is of no essence, holding no power over me and my kind.
See,  we hold the power to counter act fascist politics
While the media scours to keep one step ahead of the times
But keeps slipping further and further behind.
I may not know everything there is to know about the GOP nominees but
Believe you me, I'm doing better than 90% of the pop culture fiends
Who know everything there is to know about every song Lady Gaga sings.
That's not to bash all the little monsters, see I know a bit myself
As I like to stay abreast on all kinds of music, television,
Internet memes, university official ****** stings,
And a plethora topics categorized under the moniker "various other things".
Between you and me, I'm not sure there is a Heaven
And if there is a Hell we make it daily ourselves.
But that doesn't have to be the case.
We can rise up and grab onto the clouds, pull down the sky
And bring the idea of Heaven a little closer than simply reading a book
Found in the drawer at **** near every hotel ever could.
Now, that’s not to say I don’t believe in the Word
and that the word isn’t Good.
I’m only making a case for a proactive age and for doing and living the way that we should.
We were never called to preach to the sinners that they‘re going to hell in the first place.
I’m only stating that there is a mass information bank
Being lawlessly and shamelessly misinterpreted and misunderstood.  
What I am saying is we need to put a stop to injustice parading itself as truth—
In our schools, in the church, and in the hearts of our youth.  
Read with fervor and a bit of passion any book can hold the keys to a life worth living.
The Good Book is a good book, but…
God the father and his son Jesus would have got on well
With Bilbo Baggins and his nephew Frodo,
Who both understood that the war they fought was so much bigger than a silly ring. '
They would have seen the passion and pain behind the eyes of Wilber Larch and is protégé Homer Wells,
Who only wanted to help and had to make some tough decisions in order to do so.
And they would have been able to appreciate the selfless devotion of Severus Snape
And commend Harry Potter on his willingness to die for those he loved.
Because...
In the end—what’s the difference?
It’s the same story over and over
From the cradle to the grave,
From Genesis to Revelation
To my walls lined with posters—
They all contribute to the loops and the corkscrews
On the same roller coaster.
This whole charade called existence resting on the shoulders of nothingness is everything that we have,
So the quicker we learn to take the good with the bad the quicker we’ll realize that the things that we want
Are exactly the same as the things that we had and the things that we have.
Maybe all the moms and the dads of today are displeased with the direction we’re heading because
(though they’d never admit it)
It’s no different than where they were going and for some reason they thought it would be.
Open your eyes.
All I’m asking is for a little time.
A minute or so more, tops.  
I’m pulling out all the stops
And I’m laying my heart on the line in hopes that one day you will return the favor in kind.
Not to me. Maybe not even to anyone other than yourself, but that is enough.
I've seen some things I wish I hadn't.
I've been drunk and I’ve done drugs but I’ve never voted in a political election.  
I’m 20 years old without a clue of what it means to be a good person
But I refuse to let that stop me from being one.  
So I’m not going to get high tonight and I’m not going to sit around by myself in my room watching ****,
Which I’ll admit without shame I do sometimes when I’m bored.
Tonight I’m breaking the illusion and crossing the line
That separates me from who I want to be and who I was at one time.
I’m inviting you along, so come on, put away words like “was” and  “will be”
And replace them with “the present”, “living”, and “free”.  
Because that is all there ever was or will be—
We've been given the present for living and in that we’re free.
Alastur Berit Dec 2018
Where are you?
The crowd tries to bustle
the tickets out of my clenched hands
I cannot seem to find you.
For a second, there! a flash of you,
vanishing as a corner carries you away
I know you're near, but not
what's happening
Are you running towards the gate?
Or away from me?
Find a bar, meet a new friend
Steps 1 and 2 in a magic spell
3 sips, a story, 4 drinks, and you're on an adventure
while
I am the gatekeeper
The Fire Lord to your Avatar, the Sauron to your Frodo,
trying to trap you at
every turn.
But that is ok.
Fight me, triumph over me,
throw my ring in the fires
I'd rather see that than,
see you get stuck at this
****** airport

you have your own adventures to live
worlds to travel,
magic to share.

you are my love, my hero, the one who triumphs
over evil, the elven star to my Shelob's lair, the
gandolf to my Balrog, the s.h.i.e.l.d. to my H.Y.D.R.A.
the kirby to my Galeem,
the nephalem to my Diablo.
not just that-
you are
little moments
of light found in between
the chaos of time
You are
everything I imagined
and more
when my world was dark,
and the only hope I could cling to
was the idea of my future,
and perhaps the someone, (that heroes always meet)
who drives away the darkness
and holds their hand.
You are the one to see the world with
the destination of my travels,
the one to land with.
my partner.
but
not if, to you,
I am the gatekeeper.

and I'd rather be the gatekeeper
(even if it means you know what)
than watch you get stuck
and your magic fade
and your steps falter
and your soul struggle
to breathe, and you
hate yourself,
I'd rather you hate me
and get out of this airport
because otherwise,
evil would
truly win. and that
that is what
would end me.
Searle Jul 2014
The dark clouds writhe
like serpents in the sky
and belch down brimstone
where unicorns asleep they lie

In the distance Mordor's spear
dominates on high
demanding submission
from whence dragons fly

They search the jagged peaks
For one ring to rule them all
The fiery evil eye it beckons
and Frodo heeds it's call
This was a picture prompt
Francie Lynch Jun 2014
I golfed with Byron yesterday. And no, he didn't "kick my ***" as promised. It's always an edifying round with Byron. On the links he looks more like Dorf than Frodo. Sometimes I glimpse the top of his head when he's in the rough, or see a cloud of sand, like the Roadrunner hitting the ground after the inevitable fall. Our conversation (his conversation)  gamuts from his re-constructed porch to life on Mars. He'd like to build a porch on Mars. He is an Everyman almanac. His back swing is like a tilting windmill, and I, his Sancho, suggesting which club to use. In fairness, he makes some remarkable shots. Here are some I've heard:
"To pinch one off, inhale, then cough." This sums up Byron's intestinal fortitude. He takes heavy doses of codeine and morphine for his back.

"Don't swab your ears with asparagus spears." This is the extent of Byron's relationship with veggies. He's more a plant man.

"During ***, if she wiggles her toes, she's still wearing ***** hose." Byron gives a full belly laugh at the double entendre.

"If you pick your nose choose the best plastic surgeon." Yeah, I know. Cute. Byron himself sports a double car garage.

"Men who manscape must **** or go ape." Pure irony for Byron. Nothing sharper than the bearded axe approaches his iron.

"Ladies, when you quin manicure, design it with a touch of *****." That's Byron. Discrete, gentle and quizzical.

"If you *******, get to the point. Don't hesitate." Byron would never admit to such self-indulgence.

It was a gorgeous golf day. Byron seems to make the sun shine a little brighter. He promises, next time, he'll kick my ***.
Devin Tinnin May 2015
If Frodo can carry the ring and its weigh, to Mordor, into the fires of Mount Doom, I can walk this earth carrying my backpack and its weigh.
Kaedon Feb 2013
And through the woods and past talking  trees
Past gandalfs house and past the pile of leaves
Returns a king who has only one specific dream
To conquer the world with a powerful golden ring

And this  journey will take three movies long
With Frodo's friends and Gandalf's help
To exploit the lost and i think theres theres room
To throw the  ring in the firey pits of Mt. Doom

And I, would save
A fairy elf princess that fell in love with 
a man, that's brave
Enough to travel through the mountain to try to save 
The whole, **** world
I think that's enough to be worthy in this book

And to try to fight the goblins and trolls
To be prophet of the ancient scroll
And be the the guy that is the chosen one
Please don't forget the times we spent at home

And to help the king thats poisoned in time
And the return of Gandalf the white
Is enough to save the one he loves
The remembrance of a man who fell off a cliff

And I, would save
A fairy elf princess that fell in love with 
a man, that's brave
Enough to travel through the mountain to try to save 
The whole, **** world
I think that's enough to be worthy in this book
Joel Hayward May 2017
I carried something deep inside
my pocket like Frodo's ring

with the cruel gravity of Jupiter making every step beside you a slog through Russian snow

I never told you

I couldn't bear the thought
you wouldn't fight

and oh how valiant you were!

Even that French emperor that I have in pewter in a box in storage

would have thumped you on the shoulder

Oh tu as un cœur de lion!

yet a lion had already clamped its teeth into your shoulder

such pain

and you fought impossibly

until you finally fell into that shadowy shaft without knowing that I had carried a secret for eighteen months

that you, mon brave soldat, had only six months to live
Joe Cole Jul 2015
What was Frodo thinking as he sunk under the burden of the one ring*

I'm slipping into the twilight world of shadows sombre grey
No more a world of sunlight
Or of birdsong summer days
Legs weary, sore, I struggle 'neath the weight
But I still must struggle on
To reach the Morgul gate
In my small hands I hold the future of mankind
For them and for their freedom I now must be prepared to die
Why me? Why me? Why was I the chosen one?
But I must think not of the past
But of a new life not yet born
Obviously I would never try to compare myself to the greatness of Tolkien but in my wild imagination I tried to place myself in the mind of Frodo
Larry Cook was a crabby old ******* almost as bad as the ******* he caught and sold off the waters on Knotts Island North Carolina.

Every other morning during the season he was up at the **** crack of dawn and on the water either pulling or baiting pots.

He worked hard, he drank even harder.

He was back at the marina went and sold his ***** paid his crew and hit the bar like clockwork.

If he made it home was never the question, now if he it made into the home most nights was.

He lived in a nice old house his neighbors thought he was a freak.
And he thought they were all a bunch of stuck up yuppie *******.

He passed out on the lawn.
But he didn't give a **** for it was his lawn to pass out on.

He sat there on his tail gate one morning after a good ******.
His next door neighbor just glared.
He cracked a beer and just laughed.

The neighbors seven year old kid walked up to him.
Larry Cook hated kids.

And they always seemed to be drawn to him for some ****** up reason .
Like a **** house cat.
Course Larry never hated ***** although that never quite seemed drawn to him like ******* kids.

The kid just stood there staring.

Larry just kept drinking his beer.

“My dad says you're a nasty old drunk.”

Larry just looked at the kid and almost laughed.

“Yeah that really hurts cause I thought me and him were always friends.”

“Really that's weird because he hates you Mr Cook.”

Larry cracked another beer.

“So what the hell you doing over here shrimp.”

Larry asked.

“I'm bored.”

“Really seems like you're also a bit ******* as well.”

“You shouldn't use that word Mr Cook its  offensive.”

Larry saw the kid’s mother step out on the front porch.
She had a look on her face as if her little bed wetter was speaking to the Devil himself.

“Well Frodo I believe you're mother wants you.”

“She thinks you're crazy.”

“Most women do.”

“She said that's why you're wife ran off and left you and cause you're a drunk.”

“Bobby stop bothering Mr Cook.”

Bobby's mother called out.

“Looks like the warden's calling kid.”

“Well Mr Cook I guess I better go.”

“Yeah **** for brains come back and visit when you can’t stay as long.”

“Mr Cook I don't think you're so bad aside from sleeping on the front yard and hating everyone.”

“Yeah thanks and tell your mother even though she’s a uptight *****, I still think she has a great *** and thanks for not drawing the blinds last night.”

The kid just looked at Larry oddly and shrugged his shoulders.

“Okay well talk to you later.”

Larry learned a lot of things from his conversation with the kid that day.

He only passed out in his back yard from there on out.


From my book .

Smoking At The Gas Pumps .

Soma Publishing
As I have moved to publication and fulltime editing I still always remember where I really first began pushing my scribbling out there .
Noah Mar 2014
I watch lord of the rings when I'm feeling
empty and masochistic
when I feel like butter
scraped over too much bread
not toast, but bread, with
butter cold and hard to spread
and I struggle until my bread is full of holes and
I can't hold myself together -
     I am the bread.

I watch lord of the rings when I want to be
distracted, reassured that in the end
it is only a passing thing, this shadow
and I cling to those words like my shadow clings to me
hoping one day I will truly believe them
but marathon after marathon
I am frodo only in burden, not in strength
I am aragorn only in fear, gimli only in stature, but
most of all I am faramir in the pyre
except I put myself there and
I don't know how to wake myself up even though
     I know the flames are coming.

So give me cream and I will
churn and churn and churn
and give me flames to toast my bread as dark as my shadows,
and I will scrape that butter on that bread until
     I can survive.
Francie Lynch May 2014
I have an unusual friend. A small man with charms of a gentle redneck. He holds court in his garage for his acquaintances, those free or at large. His demeanour is rustic, but his wisdom self-taught. His name is Byron ( I know, it's too good to be true),  not lordly, but Byron likes the girls and light brew. Byron says, “I'll kick your ***.” every time we play golf. Not yet. His voice is chasmic and often influenced by distractions. And then on a cold, witch-***, heathcliffe driving winter's day, with the wood stove well-fired, a rascally friend opens the door, and Byron yells, “Shut the door. Do you think wood grows on trees.” On leaving the same day he advises me, “Don't slip on the ice. It's frozen.” I didn't tell  you Byron has one eye. Better yet, a patch on the other. He looks more like post Frodo  ignoring the “Don't run with scissors" warning from Mother Baggins, than he does Lord B. I dropped my pipe once on his garage floor. A special pipe. It's my bowling pipe. I don't smoke tobacco.  Byron thinks it clever to call me at work and tell my secretary he and I are bowling after school. Byron mixes metaphors. So, my pipe has dropped. Byron says, “ Let me help. Three eyes are better than two.” His cleverness can backfire. I tried to be sensitive, but there was neither an honourable or dishonourable way out. Byron hung an oak wood sign near his stove. He makes his own stain, and rubs it evenly in circles with his wife's old nylons. “It's great for the *******,” he'll quip. The two ***** of the sign are joined with leather straps and stainless steel studded to the wood. The letters painted within the stencilled lines are a dark, rich mixture. The joke. “Lift flap in case of fire.” Normally one lifts the flap. “Not now stupit. In case of fire.” I discreetly pointed out the t.The sign quietly disappeared and was never mentioned again. He'll never kick my ***.
skaldspiller Dec 2016
We find between well loved pages
Why do all our hearts beat for them
I grew up with 2 loving parents
Shaped by 4 loving hands
1 half crazy hands
But love all the same
So why do i feel you
Harry, oliver, frodo,
Why do i know...
I guess we all have our abandoment issues
I guess lonely is something we all relate too
I guess i know you
In the back of my mind where we are all
Unshaped, and learning to be brave.
Justin Case Mar 2018
You are precious to me.
Much like that fateful ring though, you bring me much pain.

How can someone that brings so much joy into my life bring me so much pain?
The same way the ring does of course.
Being with you is such a high
That being without you is worse than death.
I would do anything to keep you.

Not only that, but the ring desires its true owner,
All others are simply a temporary placeholder.
The trouble is, I know I'm not the final destination,
Which means it is only a matter of time until you will be gone forever, never to return.

Still, I would travel through Mordor for you,
Although I fear I won't be as fortunate as Frodo.
I would risk my life, go through all the pain.
All you have to do is ask.

The chance of me making it through this journey is probably about the same of Frodo succeeding without Sam's help;
It just ain't gonna happen.
Bailey Aug 2016
I can make it home.
No I can't.
Cross the street, to the park.
Do my stuff, walk back out.
Aww, cute dog!
Walk over to pet.
"His name is Frodo".
Little girl.
"I love that name".
Pet some more.
"It's Delia's birthday".
She thinks I'm part of the party?
"That's nice".
Pet some more.
"Did you see her open her presents?"
Cute.*
"No, I'm just passing through".
Make my way, to the swings.
c:
Qualyxian Quest Nov 2022
Some say rest in peace
Some say rest in power
The Son indeed will come
But no man knows the hour

My mind on Tallahassee
La Florida, the Land of Flowers
This thing destroys the Ring
This thing all things devours

                Frodo lives!

— The End —