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"legolas" poems
Sand on the seashore, Wand and a bezoar, Rustle of lace, Legolas’ face, Dragon’s and ghouls, Monkeys and fools, Knights, and Queens and fights
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Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 7:05 PM UTC
Girlhood Dreamland
Elven prince Tender of trees Molder of leaf-covered mansions, And brother to the green and growing; Older than Dwarves, Older than Men, And Hobbits, Younger than Ents, Eternally young, Fading slowly To the West.... Truer heart Never surged, Inscrutable, Unfathomable, Anchored in Old Codes, Time out of human mind, Hidden motives Sometimes revealed, Sometimes blind.... Worthy of fearful trust. Friend to true-hearted Hobbits, Men, Dwarves, Eagles, White wizards, Hunter of Nazgul, Blade-armorer. Warg Enemy, Orc Killer, Spider Foe, Sauron Hater, Murdering Mordor....
0
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 9:06 PM UTC
Legolas
I used to swear I was born in the Shire right next to Bilbo Baggins. Not because of the allure of being a hobbit, their squat bodies and hairy feet. The shire was refuge from the eye of the witch king. I would rather be an elf like Legolas with a bow of rowan wood Arrows fletched with swan feathers, twin gold inlaid swords, and eyes keener than a hawk. My weapons in this world are a bleeding tongue and rusted teeth Maggot-filled reasoning, an understanding that middle earth is no more. The Shire never happened for a ******* child. The witch king came and raised me proud. Fantasy is all I have left. What could I possibly have for you?
0
Feb 2, 2012
Feb 2, 2012 at 2:41 PM UTC
The Fellowship is Broken
No...more...bickerin, your eyes flickering you're nickering your nit pickin' lost it quick as the Dickens My tracks a hell of a kickin' you're just the next feckin victim, of the flow bound Hurricane of sense and rhythm, The Sensemilla Sensei Kempei of verbal Kempo's home, Like Alladin and Saladin mixed with a Party Boobytrap a Paladin of Palindrome... The Storm rider glider blasts you through the  other side of the Thunderdome My - Spitfire drips Ire as ********* ***** fire Surprise in your eyes quick blast from the past from a .50 Cal Microphone- Fiend in me soul under control you failed your roll, will check failed-I check wills,its a Checkmate mate you-best quill your will and will to build some soul Its a dill of pickle you're in - you're a nickle worth of Nickleback stickleback sticklebricking best Lego I let go last, I'm the Legolas of the fast pass in the underpass stick you fast now you're stuck fast I buck fast at your glass of Buckfast the Truculent, ever vigilant-words are Succulent got you diggin' in diggin' out a liddle bit of Lidl in a stolen digger,move quicker stop the friggin' in the riggin' little Pigpen Pigeons time to drop the bridge in...
0
Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 6:08 PM UTC
Demonic Mnemonic Part Two
I love children. Okay let me rephrase that: I love children that aren't mine. I have abso-positively-fucking-lutey no responsibilities attached to them. They didn't leave my body completely wrecked. They don't look at me and call me "momma" or any other variation of the name and I love that because frankly, children scare me. Okay let me rephrase that: The idea of ruining a child's life scares me. First off: I wouldn't think my newborn child is beautiful. Newborns look like potatoes and I don't particularly find potatoes attractive. Secondly: They'd have a name that haunts them in their sleep. I named my dog Legolas after gorgeous Orlando Bloom in Lord of the Rings so don't try me. **I will name them Harry ******* Potter without batting an eyelash.** Thirdly: I will be brutally honest with them. When they ask me why the sky is blue, I will say that I don't know. I didn't pay attention enough in school to know. When they ask me why some boys kiss boys, I will say that it's perfectly normal. Mommy probably kissed some girls and boys at some point in her life. When they ask me why the little girl in their 2nd grade class comes to school with bruises on her arms, with her hair in two pigtails, a smile on her lips, but fear, loneliness, and heartbreak in her eyes, I will say that some people in this world don't deserve Angels. They don't deserve to be alive at all. When they ask me why they don't ever see their great aunt Perla, but hear her name whispered at family events, I will tell them to ask the little girl in their 2nd grade class. Fourthly: They will learn to clean house, top to bottom, The way my momma taught me. They will hate it. Then they will hate that they love it. Fifthly: I will argue with them every step of the way until they can learn to hold their own. But until then, No, you may not have $60 to go shopping. Unless you're buying books or music. Then you can have $100. Lastly: I will teach them to love. My love for them will be overbearing, smothering, and unwavering. This is how they will love their children. But when they finally ask me what love is, I will smile, bittersweetly, and say that love is... Love is drowning in the ocean, gasping for air that never quite reaches your lungs, but when it does, it hurts because water doesn't belong in your lungs. You can't help breathing the water in, however. You just want it. Want something to fill you, to overwhelm you. Love is repeating this, over and over until one day, the breathing doesn't hurt anymore. There is no more water in your lungs. Just air. There is water still, all around you, but you are not drowning anymore. You're swimming. You, my dear, sweet, beautiful, hypothetical child, are swimming! which is something that I have yet to do.
0
Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 12:35 AM UTC
Thoughts on Procreation
I love children. Okay let me rephrase that: I love children that aren't mine. I have abso-positively-fucking-lutey no responsibilities attached to them. They didn't leave my body completely wrecked. They don't look at me and call me "momma" or any other variation of the name and I love that because frankly, children scare me. Okay let me rephrase that: The idea of ruining a child's life scares me. First off: I wouldn't think my newborn child is beautiful. Newborns look like potatoes and I don't particularly find potatoes attractive. Secondly: They'd have a name that haunts them in their sleep. I named my dog Legolas after gorgeous Orlando Bloom in Lord of the Rings so don't try me. **I will name them Harry ******* Potter without batting an eyelash.** Thirdly: I will be brutally honest with them. When they ask me why the sky is blue, I will say that I don't know. I didn't pay attention enough in school to know. When they ask me why some boys kiss boys, I will say that it's perfectly normal. Mommy probably kissed some girls and boys at some point in her life. When they ask me why the little girl in their 2nd grade class comes to school with bruises on her arms, with her hair in two pigtails, a smile on her lips, but fear, loneliness, and heartbreak in her eyes, I will say that some people in this world don't deserve Angels. They don't deserve to be alive at all. When they ask me why they don't ever see their great aunt Perla, but hear her name whispered at family events, I will tell them to ask the little girl in their 2nd grade class. Fourthly: They will learn to clean house, top to bottom, The way my momma taught me. They will hate it. Then they will hate that they love it. Fifthly: I will argue with them every step of the way until they can learn to hold their own. But until then, No, you may not have $60 to go shopping. Unless you're buying books or music. Then you can have $100. Lastly: I will teach them to love. My love for them will be overbearing, smothering, and unwavering. This is how they will love their children. But when they finally ask me what love is, I will smile, bittersweetly, and say that love is... Love is drowning in the ocean, gasping for air that never quite reaches your lungs, but when it does, it hurts because water doesn't belong in your lungs. You can't help breathing the water in, however. You just want it. Want something to fill you, to overwhelm you. Love is repeating this, over and over until one day, the breathing doesn't hurt anymore. There is no more water in your lungs. Just air. There is water still, all around you, but you are not drowning anymore. You're swimming. You, my dear, sweet, beautiful, hypothetical child, are swimming! which is something that I have yet to do.
Continue reading...
75
Haiku Secrets fill the air Whispered through the swaying trees Though they make no sound Nature Poem The wind is an unpredictable beast Clawing, tearing, ripping And yet, gentle as a baby's breath Strong, frigid, freezes to the bone Hot, humid, sweltering, offering no relief And yet, can be pleasantly warm or refreshingly cool What it might bring, no one can know The wind is an unpredictable beast Metaphor Poem Euphoria is a green too bright to be real Filled with intensity that's possible to feel It is a heated blanket that has too much power Though it's unplugged, it lasts for an hour! Euphoria is a color that projects too much light It is a blanket that does its job too right! Letter Poem Dear Bel, At first sight, many people consider you a monster. And for what cause? Because you're different? If that were to always hold true, wouldn't everyone be afraid of each other? It's not to say you're perfectly harmless, that's true. But that's why we all admire you. Myself, Legolas, Tauriel, Fili and Kili, even Thorin. Because you are different, special, and quite able to hold your own even against an army of orcs. Not many people can make that claim. How is Mirkwood? Rivendell is the same as always, Though for some odd reason, my father's been in a really good mood. It's really quite frightening. I love you and miss you quite terribly. Please send my best to Legolas, Tauriel and King Thranduil. Ever so sincerely, Sari
0
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 1:09 PM UTC
Various Forms of Poetry
This pumice really rubs me the wrong way. Matadors moisturize with oil of ole. Heidegger has moves like Jagger. Any critic - Jaeger; Typhoid Mary - plaguer. Who's the top chef that goes derpa derp derp? Wyatt Earp. I'll drain the swamp like Dagobah's. A Clovis Person. Legolas. The nipple's best on chicken breast. Pin that on your Pinterest. To show all the dispossesed. Witness Godwin's Law at work: ****** you're a **** Pick up the phone and call Cthulu. Get hung up on by Shaka Zulu. Chalupa mis huevos, says the chihuahua. Hey Tarzan. Ungawa. Jesus walked across Titicaca. Crane thinks the Bridge is over. Biddy bah bah.
0
Mar 29, 2018
Mar 29, 2018 at 12:43 AM UTC
Kraken vs Megalodon XIV
Start where my world had ended ten years have passed but the sights sounds feel hasn’t bended. I still can picture like a photograph of the past the tree that marked the step that was my last before the world disappeared into the land of unknown at the age of seven in the woods all alone My mind froze like the ground in October as I gazed out past my tree my line the Pacific to a kid who was trembling all over. I turned from the place that had been told to me as being the limit of where I was allowed to be. The queen the leader the one I call Mom the one who I’d been trained to think had known all requested, NO commanded, that “I shall not pass” but she was the Balrog and I was Legolas. But still, I was scared trained to trust in the words but oh how my heart ached and how it yearned to be set free from these boundaries on Earth. In the mind of a child Up up was away so I began to climb And I'll climb to this day. From the branches I’d gaze out across the fields and the trees and the blades Weren't green they were black as if cast in a shadow about to attack. I screamed, inside outside I fell, from the branches of my mind no rope not a repel. Fast was the descent for I caught myself on the truth of the words I had heard from no one else. They were mine, not the queen’s not the leader’s not my mom’s and the fact that they weren’t made them seem twice as strong. No field could haunt me, No field could do harm so as I envisioned prior I began my journeyed on. Past the tree, past the line, past the Pacific of my mind and into the darkness that was only black through the blinds. For all I had to do was draw them back and then i could see, that past my line, my Pacific, there was nothing but more trees. So now, seventeen I journey back to the place at the edge of my ocean that is an ocean I now crave. The point past the tree, past the line I had drawn and into the green, and the light and the thoughts that now come to mind not of fear or of doubt but of joy and of fun and I can’t live without the knowledge that the tree that has meant so much to me instead of a line is an ocean, My sea.
0
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 1:18 PM UTC
My Sea
Start where my world had ended ten years have passed but the sights sounds feel hasn’t bended. I still can picture like a photograph of the past the tree that marked the step that was my last before the world disappeared into the land of unknown at the age of seven in the woods all alone My mind froze like the ground in October as I gazed out past my tree my line the Pacific to a kid who was trembling all over. I turned from the place that had been told to me as being the limit of where I was allowed to be. The queen the leader the one I call Mom the one who I’d been trained to think had known all requested, NO commanded, that “I shall not pass” but she was the Balrog and I was Legolas. But still, I was scared trained to trust in the words but oh how my heart ached and how it yearned to be set free from these boundaries on Earth. In the mind of a child Up up was away so I began to climb And I'll climb to this day. From the branches I’d gaze out across the fields and the trees and the blades Weren't green they were black as if cast in a shadow about to attack. I screamed, inside outside I fell, from the branches of my mind no rope not a repel. Fast was the descent for I caught myself on the truth of the words I had heard from no one else. They were mine, not the queen’s not the leader’s not my mom’s and the fact that they weren’t made them seem twice as strong. No field could haunt me, No field could do harm so as I envisioned prior I began my journeyed on. Past the tree, past the line, past the Pacific of my mind and into the darkness that was only black through the blinds. For all I had to do was draw them back and then i could see, that past my line, my Pacific, there was nothing but more trees. So now, seventeen I journey back to the place at the edge of my ocean that is an ocean I now crave. The point past the tree, past the line I had drawn and into the green, and the light and the thoughts that now come to mind not of fear or of doubt but of joy and of fun and I can’t live without the knowledge that the tree that has meant so much to me instead of a line is an ocean, My sea.
Continue reading...
106
Swords flash with a mystical brilliance For enemies, it only means demise Bright blue eyes that look into the distance Deep as the sea and bluer than the skies Skin, like ivory, paler than the moon Hair, that is almost like woven sunbeams From light rose colored lips come Elven tunes Perfect armor over his shoulders gleams His aim is never off--he hits his mark Whether it be enemies or my heart There is no one sweeter--it flees--the dark If ever we should meet, we would not part This is Legolas, of the woodland realm When I see him, my heart, he overwhelms.
0
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 4:43 PM UTC
Legolas
His deep intense gaze Never wavering either side Locked upon his target No, his enemy can't hide An instantaneous moment And an arrow's locked into place His enemy frozen in fear For no blade can wound his face The metal pierced its skin Before his quiver ceased to shake His pale blue eyes satisfied As he watched his enemy quake His tunic sways in triumph His confidence never wavers As he returns to his home To the woman of whom he favors
0
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 2:01 PM UTC
Legolas
Human desires Cross seldom the mind Of one who has shifted The need paradigm Yet often I find   Myself craving a taste Of her strawberry field Or the diamond embraces Of nothing is real To think and to feel Cascading emotion   Is still but a drop In infinity's ocean Intangible quotient The product of self The sum of its parts Is but dust on the shelf And there lives an elf Who communes with the trees His arrows of wind Sailing evergreen seas As he writes eulogies Detached from the world For his dying earth mother As time keeps on turning Mankind on each other
0
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 2:30 AM UTC
Legolas
Panic at the Disco And I'm at the edge Thank you for my place Thank you Sister Sledge St. Patrick comes around Chicago River green Alicia Bobby blue I read Things Not Seen My grandma in the kitchen Look there at Herself Charles potato chips Legolas the Elf My mother in Toledo And my Uncle Jack Walnut Heights, Ohio I lay on my back               ?
0
Mar 17, 2023
Mar 17, 2023 at 6:57 AM UTC
Surf Ohio
I see you decided to Pick This dumb poetic Flick So let me tell you about this ***** Who doesn't happen to be pickle Rick He can't even Kick Anymore since he is Sick He is as dense as a Brick Watch for his Stick He possesses many a Trick And the metallic Lick Used to be his happy Tic Many have called him a **** That's how it goes for a man named nick ...But hey at least my name rhymes with Legolas
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Mar 28, 2018
Mar 28, 2018 at 4:55 PM UTC
My Name is Nick