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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
Jared Eli Sep 2013
Here's some clay I molded well
And a note that's straight from hell
It just says "Live" and when I drop it
This gollum will wake up

He'll follow close my every order
Never teeter on the border
Of sentient thought because
I own him and he doesn't think at all

This gollum'll do the ***** deeds
Like taking out the ***** weeds
That filter through society
The people-poison of the earth

He'll invade your home as you did my mind
He'll make you leave the world behind
He'll take your head into his hand
And smash it down unto the land
As if to say, "Please taste the earth,
Substance of your death and of my birth"
The cyclic theory present now
He'll show you how to die

And when he's done and you are through
When my gollum's finished you
He'll emotionlessly tear through your guts
And with them, drag you through the street

Sleep tight, doll
Matt May 2016
Hello Gollum
I see you sitting there

And what are you
Looking at
With great care?

I see, that fish too
And it is so good for you

It will be a tasty dish
I will eat with you
If that is your wish

I have long limbs
Kind of like you
A bit akward
Seems there is
Nothing I can do

I go unnoticed too

We have seen
Knights, elves, and dwarves
Pass this way

We just live off the land
It is our way
Waverly Dec 2011
From the hole
in her acid-wash jeans,
she calls
her ***** a prophet,
from that hole a whole
new world
will be born.

She will push
out
****, ****,
but lastly
she will push out
a new world.

She will push out my fingers,
and my clawing
at her,
she will push out the concealed evil
and the suffocated good.

Slap that ***.
Slap that ***.

Make the evil and good scream,
give birth to a new black
humanity, a breathing wheezing
baby of equal parts good and bad,
king and beggar,
prophet and pessimist,
criminal and revolutionary.


From
her acid-wash jeans
and the hole
that I dug my fingers in
countless times
and made swirls
of mud against her burning
insides and wet flesh,
she will give birth
from a well-rounded hole,
to a well-rounded whole.
Don Bouchard Oct 2014
And you Gollum,
I'd say I am a spinner of apples
Hoping for pies,
A climber of trees
In October skies
And I would be telling
No lies.

And Gollum...
Poor Gollum,
Dweller under the mountain,
Avoider of Orcs,
Fugitive of men,
No longer hobbit,
Eater of pale fish,
You might pause...
Remember just a moment
Hands without claws,
Built for climbing apple trees,
Up in an autumn breeze...
Hands made for reaching
Apples ready for picking.

And you might remember
Cinnamon scents
Of apple tarts and pies
Bubbling fragrant spices
In an oven hot,
Waiting for
A slice
Of cheese,
And your pipe
After.
Apples are made for pies. Come have a slice! (the spinning is done on an old Norpro apple corer/slicer.)
Matt Oct 2015
Hello again Gollum
Sitting over there

Now I know sometimes
Life seems sad and stupid
And it feels like no one really cares

But everyone has their part to play
Remember what Gandalf said

Let's cook this fresh salmon
And enjoy it with some of
Bilbo's freshly baked bread
Matt Oct 2015
Hello Gollum
Over there

Eating fish
Without a care

I have an ugly body too
With my akward shoulder
I've learned there is nothing
I can do

An imbalanced body
Is a terrible thing
For a man of Tao

Let us eat
Our cooked fish now
Stu Harley Sep 2018
the
jet black
marble eyes
reflects
the
smooth
black olive
silhouette of
the
evil  crow
who
guards
the
realm of Gollum
and
me swears by it
Cailey Weaver Mar 2017
With his eloquent tongue,
Quick wit,
And grinning eyes.
He made us love him.
He made us feel loved.
If only for a moment.
Then it got ugly.
Suddenly there were questions.
Fighting amongst ourselves.
Betraying one another.
Never trusting.
No one.
Not even ourselves.
He made us weak.
Afraid.
Spiteful.
He turned us into something we're not.
He played us all.
He crushed us.
Or tried to.
Without a thought.
Without a care.
With his crippled black soul,
Deadened eyes,
And withered self.
Hidden behind a handsome mask,
A gentle hand,
His lies.
His fear drove him.
His fear of being realized.
His fear of being alone,
And others seeing him,
As he really is.
For he is dark,
He is apathetic,
He doesn't feel what others feel.
He cannot feel remorse,
Except for in fear of himself.
For he only cares for himself.  
He claims he doesn't care.
He claims to be free.
Free of restraints.
Free of emotion.
Free of love.
But for what he claims is free,
Is imprisoned in fear.
For he is a coward.
Terribly frightened.
Afraid of others.
What they might say.
What they might think.
But mainly he is afraid of himself.
For he knows his noxious soul,
Will one day find him.
Abandoned.
Exposed.
The day he knows he is unloved.
The day he knows he is alone.
Alone with no one but himself.
The one he fears the most.
He will weep.
For nothing is stronger.
Nor more horrifying.
Than facing one's greatest fear.
To open one's eyes.
To face all alone.
The one you despise the most.
To see in the mirror,
The demon you've become,
As no fear is stronger,
Than that of oneself.
Christmas.... ugh
Isn't this a perplexing situation?
I have an interesting question...
First, I know this poem is not perfection
But does any one know what it's like
To be utterly alone on what's supposed to be
A most joyous day, surrounded by friends and family?
That annoying cherubic man
Won't be visiting my home
It's just an idiotic holiday
And no one cares I'll be alone
No homemade Christmas dinner
I might make myself a grade A steak
I'll raise a toast to myself
Nothing to boast about
Probably just whiskey, bottom shelf
I immense-ly hate Christmas
Say I'm dense-ly, I don't care
Been that way as long as I can remember
From the makeshift tree, when I was three
To being stuck homeless in a snow drift at sixteen
I can count all the "merry Christmas's" I've received
On one hand
It's never been merry, or happy
Most I got was engorged on stuffing
And a poorly cooked, dried out Turkey
No presents under the tree
With a gift tag saying Melanie


You know what? Sorry Quin,
but this is too **** depressing...
I quit...

Tequila, Velveeta
Distant, instant
Solemn, Gollum
Under-wear, I don't care
Tiny, finely
Flightless, loneliness
Hindrance, appliance
Backward, forward
Orange, purge
Rooftop, please stop
Kringle, Pringles

Ha! Invitations?
No...
Salutations...
Yea... I hate Christmas.
L Seagull Sep 2016
Crawling from underneath the
Power which cannot be owned
Nor contained an illusion obsession
A lethal compulsion and ever present
All absorbing shadow
You are engulfed and deformed
Power you could only wear but never fully
Possess

To stand up and carry yourself
Under the light of your truth
Faithfully catching reflection
Never escaping
The only way to liberate
Empowerment
Pure and transcending
So much more than power itself
Been watching Lord of the Rings, yet again)
Mateuš Conrad Feb 2016
the concept of money, a dualism of value and devaluation, was based upon the worth of what darwinism could say about that monkey statement: you scratch my back, i scratch your. darwinism is a failure in terms of economics, that great human get-together, let's congregate, and instead of a stampede of buffalo we'll have ourselves a revolution... the failure of the monetary system: an invisible shining of gold is the fact that gold was once valued and now is devalued, money is a very serious virus, it requires something new to make it an asset, and something old to make it devalue it (a non-asset)... money is also a way to say: you be a plumber for me, while i be your middle-classed opinion making machine paying you, there's no monkey scratches another monkey's back in this story... money is the only invisible object that wants to intertwine so many others in its spider-web...  just so it can make itself visible, money added to gold will only be seen via the madness of thrór (throor).*

for now most of us are literate,
and by literacy
we are told to plough
the great genetically modified
fields of vegetables...
we've been made literate
but by the same acquisition
of literacy, the old powers
which once laid sway to this
monopoly have left its powers,
and instead of those to tend to
arable land we are left with
poets... we have become
straitjacket bound to the blank
pages... once the expression
of the mountain of muscles
which left us thoughtless...
now the work be eased,
and our body's harsh expression
of mandibles b forgotten...
and how we search for the same
expression of labour...
to have thought labour be exchanged
into equal labour of thought...
like muslims favouring
the elemental intoxication via the
element of air and its burned weeds,
discriminating with the element of
water and alcohol...
but we have been deceived in
being given such sudden literacy,
when literacy monopolised for so
long a status of power...
and because there's no field to plough
and live naturally, exhausted,
we've seen to be living by a new plough,
bishops and knights of the new order,
the legions of psychiatrists...
the stiff air of rooms with brimming
sulphur awaiting... no free air
of the field and strength of ploughing...
for ploughing can be quantified
with eager hands and hungry and emptied
bellies... but how quantify thought?
why... you'll only quantify thought
by a failing... and leave the quality of thought
to the ones reigning the quantification of it,
and the quantification of it
leads to nonsense or nothing,
akin to the ones qualified to
think, not the ones quantified
to do so in think-tanks
and political parties:
why then gollum invisible and sauron visible
wearing the ring in the narrated depiction?
well... apparently, the question aside:
we're not qualified to think,
because our "thought" is quantifiable
as soldier, baker, banker, spy...
but it's qualified to be an expectation
of a non-quantifiable thinking
which de-qualifies it from an original
intention, the intended quantifiable,
which leaves the existence of quantum physics
the deity of two humanisms arguing
on the simpler geographic, i.e. spelling:
quantity v. quality: both qua (as being),
far far away from what i said to an
anaesthetist having my wisdom teeth pulled out,
saying: quo vadis?
i guess it would make sense to have simply said:
qua quo non vadis esse omnis verax
(as being, as going, nowhere to be honest,
in all honesty).
Elaenor Aisling Nov 2013
17
I was 17,
when we discussed workout routines in gym,
thin legs branching from ruby-red shorts,
skin pale and dappled in winter air.
I described my workout of 200's.
200 crunches, 200 sit-ups, etc. etc. etc.
"You make me feel fat,"
my model- built friend complained.

I stared down at my shrinking thighs,
wondering how fat she would feel,
with hollow spaces beneath her skin,
numbed by the gnawing of metabolism on muscle.
If she could feel her labored breaths circulate
through drained limbs,
and saw the stars and sparks in the haze of exhaustion,
that perpetuated around me.
If she shivered
walking home in without a coat in December
simply because
Cold burned more calories than warm.  

At 17, I learned
Electric blankets were invented for asylum patients
so they wouldn't freeze when they were lain outside
to get fresh air.
I shivered under mine in a warm house--
strangled by three layers of hoodies,
a morbidly comical scene-- the skeletal inmate cowering
in masses of cotton
and still cold.

The skeleton in the mirror had no eyes,
Only its bloated stomach stared back at me.
Forget the thigh-gap,
the stomach was the only thing that mattered.
It should be as flat as the unleavened bread
I refused at communion:
I didn't know how many calories it had.

I was 17,
when the word "beauty" fell from my vocabulary.  
Lank, unwashed hair hung limp to hide the
Inflamed scratches on my face: feeble efforts to eradicate
the hatred, guilt, over two extra bites,
and what I had become.
Here I was, in all my gollum-like, two by four perfection:
except the stomach.
That ****** bloated *****
I wished I could tear it from my body,
Throw it aside to rot on the heap
of moulding high-school dreams
I kept in the corner of my room.

But it remained, day after day,
the stubborn thing stayed on,
even when filled with saltwater,
to force it to give up the last bit of its contents.
Three mugs, and several tablespoons later
it finally relinquished,
in the emergency room,
as my mother stood
holding my hair and crying.
I still thought she was over-reacting.

I looked up at the ER doctor,
middle aged and blonde,
her eyes were sympathetic, but annoyed,
As she asked me if I was trying to **** myself.
"No," I said. Not Yet I thought,
I heard my dry throat crack with the words,
"I have an eating disorder."
Thanks to rehab and prozac this is all behind me.
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
Cassandra Forte Feb 2012
Father-

You were so many icons:

The Chief to me.

My ***** Harry.

The Chris to my Gordie.

An Alexander Supertramp.

The Rick of Casablanca.

Father-

You were so many nouns:

Protector,

Guardian,

Hero,

Breadwinner,

Rapscallion.
­
Father-

You were so many adjectives:

Funny,

Caring,

Interesting,

Strong,

Adventurous.­

Father-

You were my biggest downfall:

Five times I’ve seen you cry.

For me, always baseball games.

Three school events attended.

Too many addictions.

One ruined childhood.

Father-

You were so many villains:

Jack, the dull boy.

Gollum, with your own Precious materials.

Michael Madsen, every time.

Keyser Soze.

The ego of Marsellus Wallace.

Father-

You were so many roles:

Liar,

Gambler,

Alcoholic,

Promise-Breaker,

Black hole.

Father-

You were so many problems:

Unreliable,

Restless,

Invisible,

Hopeless,

Cold.

­Father-

I am what you made me.

I am evil and broken.

I am cold and emotionless.

I am restless and relentless.

I am insane and dark.

I am conflicted and confused.

Father-

I am everything you aren’t.

I am everything you are.

I am nothing good.

I am nothing inside.

I am a part of you.

I am because of you.

Father.

I wouldn’t be without you.

But I would have been better off.
The sunflowers are yanked from my grasp.
The only spot of sunlight I see,
Is through the slivers of your finger cracks.
I am choked and dragged below,
To this dank tunnel.

Countless times do I find myself,
Crawling through this thick mud,
Escaping from the gollum,
Ring in hand and throat intact,
I run through the forest.

These trees know my path and struggle.
They sway and change my vision.
Thick bows and strands of their leafy vines,
Slap against my back like the whips
Of condemnation.

I am free,
But this time,
Full of the aches of your pain,
Inflicted through my body,
Telling of my immanent captures.
Ken Pepiton Aug 2019
and they began t' sing
marching single file

from the west

no masqued men were these,
these were
Kachina whitemen only saw in curio stories,
now,
approaching the old
prosper-specter

sitting full-lotus in his Barco-lounger, curbside-score,
from the land of too much good stuff

still, it's America, best effort men have made,

up to now.
The whole world has known since the International Geophysical Year,
1957, when the Symbolized Face of the Hungarian Freedom Fighter,

graced
the cover of Time, as Man of the Year before, when they lost
their war
and nobody cared, because
every body knew Disneyland is the Happiest Place on Earth,
where wishes can come true, and

that place is in America as sure as

blue fairy, you'real wish, Urielistical wish-grant,
Asrael and the others
singing backup
reload
when you wish
side-really… and a subtle shift in per
spect capacity
let be, just so,

and haps sub tile into layers of complexity re

because we, the people born to mature in the environs of Dublin
writ large, we
seers endowed with tele-vison, from birth.
The elders who watched the roll-out.
Aye, we watched
us evolve
to now

our future bright they say, a bright white light, then what

now,
we can say. The seals have been broken.
Nothing hidden now stays that way in ever,

and ever, as you know it, began

sometime
agone afore in some direction beyond your
ken, as it were when kenning the way of a knack was
as common as dowsers in the desert of my childhood.

What's in any name but what the namer seems?
Hey, yah way, tha'swhat I say,
tell me
what I say
Hey
Dancing shuffle footed single file
pass the white shirt black tie messenger from
the telestial king down Sonora way,
via
Yahoo, feel that tickle fo' a nickle, Hiram say come see
come feel
a boinin' in d' boosum through

the very crystal lenses

portal-ible model
through which Joseph of the name
Smith,
-- link back to Cain, through Tubal, via Na'amah--
-- set a breadcrumb, landmark, tag- say good old way
-- sign out don't break the story

through which Joseph of the name
Smith, came sayin an angel of light came with another gospel,

maybe the same guy the Galatians were warned to ignor,
re-legate-- re-read- start at the top
or all meaning is
like a song sung by Kansas, when we aren't there,
any more, than those wee
merest kachina jingle bells listing in the winds

but the Kansas chorus is stuck asif dust is all a simple

higgs-ified mind can manage to
regulate

without reading any ancient landmarks on maps of meaning
tattoo'd to the face in your mirror

in the darkest memory you hold
dear,
dearest,
your precious, in your Gollum-purpose state you know so well
protect it for all its worth,
with only your
strength
to lift
being the measure of worth-ship.

Ex-tol the worth of no bher-don born while in my state,
poor
un-gifted.  I remain a mortal soul linked mitochondrially to thee,
for whom the bell
told. You heard, but you were tolled don't ask.

Listen, the same hunch that said, It don't mean nuthin',

when you say you know that,
you bet you do.

I slew this dragon, not you. I say what the map says.

The dragon died of natural causes, so now,
all its true-sures
is yers…
Crown o'glory moon shine

plumb pert-nigh perfect fiture
imagined happy place to a T, crossed
and I dotted

Bleibe Doch! This is where all the Faustian Losers left their marks.

This is not where I aimed t'be said the elder bro,

as the wastrel was welcome t'Dada arms,
the crucial critics rave
Sheiszkunst, who Rah!
isis throws
a party for the prodigal madrigal has returned
from the pig's sty

packing each redeemed pearl, his brother once
fed to swine.

bent low 'neath his pearl-loaded ****-pack, he lifts his head,
waves his
crown, Fini,

come see, he says.
where I live, nowadays.

This is that treasure, on another level
as you may imagine,
free, if

you accept charity.

{There's the rub, say professional older bro, I know, charity;
'taint fair,
s'foul some, some ne'er-do-well finds a
pearl in some pigsty,

I PUT THAT PEARL THERE FOR THE FUTURE
not now.
I worked
for them ****** pearls, I sweated, brow-sweat, lo and hi.
I hid them well,

only a fool would ever believe a treasure
could be found in such ****,

but some fairy pulled a fast one, 'put a bean in little bro's ear,
so when the pigshit hit it began to grow,
sent a tendril to tickle a special spot,
just above the left ear,
right
there,

let's see diamonds, no
pearls,

any where we wish.
Let's say okeh, mark this spot, let us move on,

this is life. Let us see that more abundantly, while the poor
are safe and sound,
free as me to pursue haps past the frozen

disnified happy-ever-after WW2,
in the wake of Camus and ****** Wolves

---
splashes as the speeders pass, powered-row-row-rowing,

merrily mere ly wrong, not evil. Live on, next
is as you wish it were
someday, but in its diapers,

still. A we thinker thought awaiting effectual function,
as this trigger is pulled, in your space in time,

and another bubble appears,
portalish as mine-craft if ever there were

a subtle shifter of perception conspiring
A.I. see
a conspiracy with Lex Fridman infected by
Lynning Skyward
though a wave of old Radioman vibes,
played with plastic spoons
a famous peace march by
Kenurchka Klumpen, Sera-serah-selah-sinnade in B-Natural

and the last to leave broke the right arm from the doll,
sealed the dirt box one measure by one measure
deep and wide,

That seal was broken, 1957, approxi apriori right
arm dis
allowing
the left to change this next to come, sym-bolische
ified in the one-armed bandits left behind,

the bet. The die cast. Foccinaucipilinihili or holy

happy hunting ground, imagined in the land of too much good stuff.
Bits and pieces of the underlying tale. Note: The one armed effigy left in a 12 inch bt 12 inch adobe sealed hole in the floor of a pit-hose that may have been a kiva/ Vernon AZ
Jeffrey Laxamana Jun 2013
How do I even begin proposin'
My love for you, just like the sea, that's blue
Every now and then, I'm reminiscin'
Darling dear, don't divulge, but do subdue

What hath she? Pondering thee, like a snail
If I do reckon gently, your sweet voice
To heaven, I would go, maybe by mail
Oh girl I don't know, do I have a choice?

Eyes, lips, hair. Those curves, baby, so luscious
The way you caress, that recedes all stress
Is, as Tolkien told, Gollum's "my precious."
Your style, the way you dress, sittin' with poise

If they say I'm indiscreet, just retreat -
You don't need to take any of the heat.
Star Gazer Feb 2016
They say if you've found the
One.

No matter how much pain,
You've suffered,
You'll still look at them,
The way Gollum,
Looks at the one ring.

You would die for the,
One.
Battle in wars for the,
One.

And you would never,
     Ever,
             Discard it's worth.

I need someone to be my,
Ring,
Or someone to be my,
Gollum,
After all, that is life's,
Final goal.....
Its funny when people brag about how much money they make..
When the truth is the dollars worth is Jus as fragile as cake..
And when your flesh kisses death whats the amount you can take...
with you ..
The petals flourishes then they whither away..
Not a cent..
So tell me if this  make sense..
Pharaoh's died and put gold in their tombs and it been there every since..
So What does wealth  mean..the lust for more equals greed..
Whats your 30 pieces of silver will you betray the king..
Money over everything..
Are you aware what that really means..
Its like saying money by any means..
World full of Judas
surrounded by the truth but  tainted by unbelief...
Cash in hand but unaware of a misfortune..
Money is not everything a victim of the distortion ...
Of success.. called the American dream..
The pursuit happiness...
Plus the confusion of what it means to be bless..
Remember Job still called on God when it appeared he had nothing left..
Pain from boils on the flesh.. temporal
Prayed to the eternal God not treasures in a chest..
You look in see Greed's pollution..
When people need solutions..
1.4 trillion spend on a war like we need more shooting..
Screaming we fighting for freedom thats an illusion..
A False freedom your a slave to that freedom..
We are to fight for the Kingdom....
Yes the Kingdom of God...
You know thou will be done..
Thou kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven..
Instead of being a part of this  spiritual recession..
Unfiltered truth here no discretion....
I am Gods art how could I not be his living expression..
If all u talk is money than ur a mouthpiece for Satan check your reflection...
The love of money is like an infection...
So this is a lyrical tax invasion..
Putting a stop to this money glorification..
I hope u kno that private banks  controls the countries inflation..
They could stop homelessness..
They print money based on their personal legislation..
Big business..
I thought this country was founded by Christians...
Founding fathers were illusionist the Constitution wasn't inspired by scripture..
How u own the whole block of cheese n cant share a piece with a nibbler..
Praising a figure..pledging to a flag
Thats not in scripture..then where is it at?
Now God is a banner Jehovah Nissi
Yes im pointing fingers...
one hand round the Bible..
Pray that I wont ever need triggers
Modern day golden calf..
Like Moses speaking to save u from Gods wrath..
You have 2 ask Jesus into ur heart then follow his path..
Cash screws everything around me.
Seems that the money comes with causalities
Seen Lump sums  destroys families..
Capitalism to me is a calamity
American nightmare displayed as a nice dream..
I am very aware the coming of Christ is not a pipe dream..
Awake while you sleep life is not what it seems...
Some only believe what they see
Opening your mouth to eat poison.
Well here's a scoop of the truth..
Mr. senator gets paid  more than  troops..
Yet other men is his protection.
Right now my cousin in Afghanistan armed with a weapon..
Other there is a warzone...
But Mr. Senator your home.
In God we trust but won't step outside your home alone..
I depend on Christ..
Depend on man where's Kevin! Left Alone twice..
I am on fire so they take my matches..
More fear more security they increase my taxes
Should I trust banks money stuffed in the mattress.
Only God matters and your faith in him will matter more when the economy collapses
Let's define the word worth...
Well to everyone its different to some its a designer purse.
To others its its a NFL logo on turf..
To me if your worth is not in God then it is curse..
Let's drop the "th" and add ship to the end..
Where your worth lies is in  what your worshiping. .
Of course people are not content..
When they worship their ends and men..
You got real problems
Yet stocking your closet with red buttons
Them investment accounts won't solve em
Money is precious like the ring was to Gollum
Make us a creature
A villainous
Wretch
Skulk about
For the precious
We formerly kept
After theft
And a fratricide
Made it our own
And we made a new home
Out of shadow and stone
And the bones of our victims
All strewn about caves
And all hapless intruders
Play our riddle games
For our psyche is shattered
Persona is split
And discarded,
The heart
To a bottomless pit
Where we wait
And we stare
And we talk to ourselves
We’re forever condemned
To a ring’s
Magic spells
Classy J Jan 2016
Yeah, fearless, now watch me clear this obsession, that others keep stressing on, watching people keep wasting their lives over precious things as if they themselves have become like Gollum mon. But I digress, this is my mission, this my vision to run this dominion. I am fearless, devil can you hear it, I have overcome you're torment, I no longer fear ****. God oh the father up in heaven, It still looks like I aint one you're disciplinary brethren. This is my goal, ******* I am on a roll, can't decide which way to go. Classy so sassy, jumping over all you spazz's because you are all too drastic and dramatic. I am the fanatic that don't panic over first world problems, because ever problem can be solved, given time, I'm sure I will never again hit rock bottom. Fearless, so careless to the things that used to bother me, but nothing impedes me now that I got my masters degree. Going off you melon tops, you think I would give up when I got my friends for backup. So I haven't always been this way, but this is the way I rock today. I can only move forward, to tomorrow, can't look back at all my sorrow. Different me, so I think a lot differently, starting to build up my lyrical ministry. Fearless you can't commandeer this vessel that is so special,  that would be dreadful, so unethical to this human that is so gentle. Just a gentile that has over come his shackles, so gnomonical of all these obstacles I tackled. No more skipping over the point with the story of the birds and the bee's, because we finally have the keys to get off of our knees. To fearful are some, no fear for this one, because nothing can no longer have me outdone. Fearless can you comprehend how clear this is, but a lot of you are still to blind to see that fear is your nemesis. Why can't everything be good like in the book of genesis, I'll tell you why, because this generation has gone to ****, that is most definite. Some of you won't admit, but to be completely honest I don't really give two *****. No more fear holding me back from being in a relationship, I have become smart as a chip, blasting out here like I'm a rocket ship.
Mateuš Conrad Feb 2016
oddly, but not odd enough
bilbo baggins fared
a better adventure than
frodo baggins... complicate
your psychology further
why so many more hobbits
were involved,
and why samwise gamgee
accompanied the anti-hero
to dissolve gollum thus dissolve sauron.
Atheists
Atheists who believe in evolution
Lying
For example, evolution
Stealing
Satan worship
Judas
For example, Darwin

My neighbor Will
Who manipulated me into bad Pokemon trades
Witchcraft, for example, Atheism
Women’s sexualized Halloween costumes

Sexualized women, for example bikinis
Prostitution
Cussing, which is prostitution of the spirit
*** with someone other than your spouse
*** before marriage
Pictures of ***
***
The word “****”

The Ancient Greeks, who rejected Jesus
The Ancient Romans, who rejected Jesus
The Ancient Jews who rejected Jesus
(The **** Pharisees who rejected Jesus via ******)
The Ancient Samaritans, who rejected Jesus
Except one; that guy’s all good

The Ancient Babylonians, who would’ve rejected Jesus
Marrying a non-Christian
Helping your Atheist spouse to cuss or ******
Divorce
Not forgiving someone
Gollum, for several reasons

Not praying
Praying to Mary
Praying to Allah
Praying to Baal
Child sacrifice
Saying  “Just water please” but then getting pop

Bill Clinton, who did all that
Ken Pepiton Jul 2019
Were your mind the soil from which words rise,
autochthonic,

filled with meaning-ment-al
ready to write asif

you exist, dear reader, and know
autochthonic
people are some different from

Gaijins, gegenes, genetical offspring of Gaia,
I imagine, gollum mud men, goy-soulish sorts,

were, once thought,
asreal as death itself, by those in the know;

but

we never know ever, ever being as it is and

this being mortality,
the act of dying,

asif we were seeds, words whispered in darkness,

come and see. Buy of me gold,
without money,
without price.

Grace, take it for granted, and grow on.
Become that which the seed demanded you to be,

when autochthonic was re
cognized as some word Nunzio Corso knew, but you

never heard of him.
https://allpoetry.com/Gregory-Corso -- How many poets have I never heard, who found solace in such a once dark word by adding self. Self-chthonic, almost spontaneous generation of more than existed before the word came to be known, and shared, just in case you never gave it any thought.
Dhia Awanis Feb 2020
"Do you believe in love?"

she shook her head.

"Well, you know what love does to people—destruction," she whispered quietly.

his astonished eyes stared at her with wonder and confusion.

"Being in love means you'd be willing to sacrifice and risk everything for it; or even worse, fight against anything that against it. All my life, I only witnessed the kind of love that ruin one another."

"Look at Bonnie and Clyde. Look at ******'s love for his Arya race. Look at Confessions of a Shopaholic. Look at Gollum. There's a thin line between obsession and love, and sometimes you can't tell which one is which."

her eyes looked far across the city; as if she was longing for something. perhaps, he thought, it's true that woman is an open book, it's just most men don't read and it's written in ancient Greek.

"But how about your Mom? How about the owner of animal shelter? How about the Environmentalist? How about the firefighters and crisis call center officers?" he responded.

and in that very moment, she knew she was in safe hands.
do you even believe in love?
Matt Jun 2015
If I am living in the end of days
Or the end of America
Let it come

After all the things
I've been through
I'm not afraid

I'll be on the golf course
Even if they have shut it down

Even if there are hurricane force winds
And lightning
I just don't care!!

I'm alone again
How I always was

This is my game
A game I will play forever

The emptiness, The pain
And there is always more

Always more of this
Whatever it is I am doing these days

On and on
Shot after shot
Hole after hole

The therapist she
Left me
And it would have

Been nice
If she told me
She loved me

But she didn't!

And so I return to
The golf course

Despised by man
Misunderstood
Hated

My akward shoulder and hip
Forever alone

When judgement comes
There is nowhere to run
Or hide

When judgement comes
To America

I am sitting all day
Alone again

Month after month!

America dies slowly

I return to the mountains
Like Gollum
Hobbling around

To eat a small fish
Out of the stream

Pretty women
Didn't like me!

And all I ever wanted
Was to find a mistress

A loving woman who
Would listen to me cry
And comfort me

But of course
Things you desire
Don't usually ever come true

A man that likes women
But is never around them

I am always tired
It's this earth
This existence
That I find exhausting

Eating
And seeing and seeing
The same thing

My female friend is not coming

And so I go to hit
Golf *****

Return to the golf course
Until Jesus the Savior returns
Matt Dec 2015
Mean Women
Make fun of me

Please laugh at me
And make me cry

Yes I'm not attractive
And I don't care why

You don't want to touch me
You don't even care

And you slapped me
In my face

I think I like it
So there

You made me kiss your boot
You stuck a vibrating *******
In my ***

Made me pleasure
A powerful black stud
Isn't humiliation fun

A woman could never
Desire me

And why really cares
Wandering across the earth

I see Gollum sitting
Over there
A Wegner Sep 2017
'So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.’
- William Shakespeare

Could you be my best for last?
It’s the want that can ache.
Afraid. Content nonetheless,
A golden cage self-made.

Save me and take me
Gollum of my youth.
Haven’t a clue
Where I’m going,
But I’m sure I came with you.
Transmuted from your touch.
This is a climactic heap
Whatever this is –

Offering affairs and wares.
Beautiful stilted tomb,
Cradle my stone bedside,
Accompany the whistling tune.

Tracing every spindling crack
Admiring it like an artefact,
Leave me,
Like a child at a museum
Getting lost and losing track,
Tracking back
Mused, amazed,
Wonderment haze.

Damp shadows cast their way with us
Never to be dust.
Forlorn loss of clarity,
Walls waxed with tears and
forged with alchemy,
Our very own reality.
Eyes flicker in perpetuum,
In love with what surrounds me.
When love gives you life - but changes everything.
For good and for bad and for need of it to never go away.
Matt Oct 2015
My body is akward

I never got the chest I wanted
I feel ugly
Like gollum

Never touched
Or hugged
By any woman

Probably not capable
Of loving a woman
When I can't learn
To love this body

I don't see how a woman
Could ever

In a world full of emptiness
Full of times
Nothing leading to nothing

On and on

The ******* operator
She was pretty good
At her job

The slogan of the site
"Is speak to your desire"

I did
Now its over
The desire met

Feelings of boredom
Emptiness

Never thought
That highly
About life on earth

— The End —