"sauron" poems
*i hate to break it to you kid,
i'm not mindful of narcissus'
economics that's all oh so very modern...*
but women are their own orbit,
more chance to find a single mother
than a single father...
it's against nature to make the man
without god,
as it's against nature to make the woman
with god...
thus we have the tectonic plates
making man with god, accepting
or doubting, church or laboratory...
and woman... an eroticism of jaw eaten
faces... but a kiss to be a fingerprint
likened to erasing the dangling of the bitten
jaw... erased only once by the aphrodisiac of sirens'
wail of aquatic opera so damnable that only
one man heard it, while others scolded
being in audience with beeswax...
and by second chance, erased, indeed,
but only by the suffragettes as the new nuns...
as the new nuns dare comply to change,
like every male become female and
vice versa,
and the popes disclose their continual
loss of matrimony in their misogynistic
involvement in ****** if i'm not the pope
and do no encounter such practices,
i'm not a pope at all!
*only a ninth spoke as the necromancer,
and of the nine spoke clearest,
as it spoke, it dawned on me
that sauron was invisible for the sword
to strike, a gravity enveloping,
a gravity envelope, rather than a skin
of infinite diadem sharpenings,
for nine rigs unto men,
seven unto dwarfs, three unto elves,
but none unto the orcs... strange....
ORC ARKHAN MORDOR ARRAC!*
Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 10:36 PM UTC
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
Feb 26, 2017
Feb 26, 2017 at 2:39 AM UTC
Two years of laughter and smiles
Two years of being worth the while
Of course for David it could feel like its been two years
Worth of Lucy's tears
You are my greatest friend
My love from the beginning right to the end
Battles fiercer than those of helms deep
But love that forever is ours to keep
And although when I'm angry I may look (and act) like an Orc
I do still love you more than a lot
In truth I'm more of a hobbit
Loving and loyal
(Not so much small)
Entirely devoted
To my David and my David alone
For you are my precious
My love, my only one.
No one can have you (not even Sauron!)
I'd like to see him and his ring wraiths
Face me and my one woman fury
Two years today we started a journey
And still today we are forever learning
That you hate mushrooms and sugared tea
90210, gossip girl, and feet!
But I love you and you love me
And may this journeys end never be
For I love you more now than two years before
And I know for sure that, this love will grow
14/6/11 until the end of time
I love you baby that's just how it is
There and back again
A love tale
By David and Lucy
So do me favour and keep on laughing
Otherwise you've wasted 720 days of minecrafting!
Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 10:50 AM UTC
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....
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 9:06 PM UTC
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.
Aug 27, 2013
Aug 27, 2013 at 9:18 AM UTC
Carmen's legs
are pixilated cerulean.
Rubbing beasts
that itch at untouchable
bruises beneath her skin.
Her computer is on.
She rests crossed legs
on its desk.
There's something sticky about her skin.
Carmen's date is calling,
her speakers make a sound
like **** plopping in a toilet.
The webcam blinks
like Sauron's eye.
Carmen has never had
any of the cards
in her hands.
Not a whiff of a queen of hearts
or a jack
of all trades.
It seems she's been slipping for awhile now,
in her black room, colored
by the glow of some
techni-cyclops'
cavernous mouth,
crimson, heart-shaped teeth,
and scythe tongue.
She has never known the war machine
of love,
or the war machine of self-determinism.
Now she does,
her compudate buzzes on-screen.
Tiny sprouted pixels
jump into a constantly
buzzing whole.
He's got a bored face,
and Carmen knows this is the look
of the generation.
Carmen lifts her legs from the desk.
Puts her hands on her lap.
Licks her lips.
She wants to know
what lowered human beings
do when they are restless.
She is seeking something
moreso
philosophical
than
******
"Bored, much?"
Carmen asks sardonically.
He took it literally.
He jumped at attention.
"Oh, no,
now that I've seen you."
"How do these things work?"
"Well, I guess we talk to each other,
and if you like me
then we go from there."
And to Carmen this was reticence,
this was blasphemy.
She had the cards in her hands,
finally.
Carmen's legs are pixilated high cerulean.
Cerulean the color of
a tiger ocean,
****** cakes,
slushies,
a sun-fucked sky,
a corpse. Skin against a computer screen.
Jun 28, 2012
Jun 28, 2012 at 12:26 AM UTC
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
Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 10:54 AM UTC
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.
Dec 11, 2018
Dec 11, 2018 at 12:59 PM UTC
and what of depth in dwarf heart
may man keep his balance
for emeralds of knowledge sought,
and knowledge neither emerald
nor sought, be that the eternal quill
of the sharpened elven ear guided
to hear its master's race:
for the darkened elf known as the yrc,
sauron the mighty dark elf,
who's eternal guise was not felt for the wave
upon wave of migrating elves into
the western lands... thus the story a story
of dwarfs who against the canvas of man
where men likened unto gods revealed
the partake of dwarf concern for knowledge
akin to precious gem stones lost kept with
a breeze's briefness emotionally superior,
second's lasting partake in minute, in hour,
but what of day of year?
none be congregated in such assumption,
in such an asylum of kept suntan...
this tale of dwarfs and darkened elves who
would never reach the immortal western shores,
on the canvas of men's story likening themselves
to the gods, here we dug up the ground
by the tree which confused our loot of prohibition
transgressed with neither knowledge of good
or evil; given the bias of numbering a singleton's loot
for a welcome praise unheard.
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 10:19 PM UTC
I've lived countless lives and loved countless wives
I've defeated voldemort, sauron and countless others
Looted and plundered with the Vikings
Went on psychotic murderous rampages
Built floating, intricate castles in the sky, with balconies out of which I've stared for countless hours, trying to make sense of the patterns made by the constellations shining through the fluffy clouds in the night sky
Settled on a inhabitable planet with a population of only loopy straws whose only purpose in life Seemed to be to force feed me thick foamy milkshakes until the buttons on my jeans popped and I blew up like a balloon and floated away into the skies
I've lived the life of a poem, may it be joyous or pitiful, enraged or complacent, unrhymely or out of verse
An entire planet at times; tectonic plates moving to make and break the shape of continents, and have ecosystems being formed on my being, watch with pleasure as new life forms on my surface and feel the pain of billions of such life forms as they slowly fade out of existence, my core erupting at every moment is what has made my shell so thick and given me the ability to support further life
A box of matchsticks, with each matchstick's head being rubbed against me as it erupts into flames and slowly burns down to ash and cinder
I've been a macho soldier in space blowing up monstrous creatures of disproportionate proportions with gigantic claws and humongous jaws
I've been lived as the creator and guided the evolution of a sea of pebbles through their voyage and to their destination as grains of sand
A spec of dust as it floats from place to place, sits in dark attics for eons till the cleaning lady dusts me off of the rusty old lamp and I fly out of the open window, only to be caught by a passing gust of wind and swept towards the next town where I become one with the earth of which I emerged.
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 3:24 PM UTC
Deep within the spacial abyss that is my brain
There lies a little blue planet called “Paul”.
Hidden away from most of reality
This world is full of wondrous dreams.
Its drifting continents are full of sporting arenas,
Traditional pubs and inns
And swarms of gorgeous women.
Lofty mountains overlook sandy beaches
Fringed by sun kissed palms.
Endless vistas of hill and dale
Teeming with Life.
There is a Dark Side too:
I have my “Mordor” for sure
And my own Sauron.
Who doesn’t?
Lands full of man eating wasps
Fearful ghouls and witches
And torture chambers
Full of dental equipment.
Giant eyes
And Mirrors
Which take on a life
Of their own.
But let’s focus on the Brightness here:
The music and poetry
And even dance
And romance!
A place where we can “Get Around”
To Beach Boys harmonies,
Rock to Chuck Berry
And enjoy whatever delights Carlsberg can conjure up,
If not a pint of “Willy’s Beer”
From Cleethorpes.
Paul Butters
© PB 10\5\2018.
May 10, 2018
May 10, 2018 at 12:39 PM UTC
**** the ringwraiths, dwarves, and all the men
**** rangers, trolls, and the wretch of Saruman
To hell with goblins, dragons, and barrow wrights
To hell with balrogs, and the ever evil sprites
****** all the spiders, wargs, and Ents
Slaughter all the Rohirrim, sleeping in their tents
Death to all the elves, hobbits, and kings
Death to everyone, and death to everything
Sauron's will departed, smashed upon the battlefield
Unable now to navigate, and nothing left to feel
My anger and hatred dry, as spitting out the desert dust
No reason and no why, spent, the last of my blood lust
My axe and shield are heavy now, as I roam the empty plain
No idea, of when or how, my war became in vain
Jan 24, 2017
Jan 24, 2017 at 8:49 AM UTC
Another day stirs me awake,
Before its dawn I'll travel far.
Clay path ahead, feet burning dead,
Days - short, nights - long. My friend - a star.
Essea is the name I bear,
For I'm a healer-elf; I share
Great wisdoms of the ancient worlds.
Her secrets Nature deftly hides -
I know paths where She them unfolds,
Jumping, her creatures at my sides.
Knowing my Past, I don't forget
Lothlorien, my only home,
My Mother and my Father - dead,
Now buried under wooden dome.
Over Dark Hills, alongside Men,
Praying for Light, they fought Dark Prince.
Quick death slew them at Sauron's den.
Rare words are spoken of them since...
Searching for Light, I travel wide,
Trees, Herbs, and Rivers help my quest.
Unseen to all, with gales I ride
Vast shores and lands from North to West,
Warring dark powers that may be.
Xylographs I carve, so that
Ye, my Beloved, only Ye,
Zealous for me, do find my path.
----
I have a way with Evil -
My love it should not wish.
Perverted and seduced, then dead
Dark things who taste it, be!
Frightened you are to learn this, -
You needn't be - for I
Present no danger to good folk -
You cannot cheat my eye.
(c)kRu, 2002
Jan 29, 2010
Jan 29, 2010 at 10:33 AM UTC
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.
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 10:05 PM UTC
I’ve got arms long enough to hold the whole world
Well, not really, but my arms are quite long
Which means that if I don’t hold it in my arms
But hold it at arm’s length
The world is remote enough for me to feel safe
And if I cross my arms over my chest
The barrier is strong enough for me to feel protected
And if I touch the back of my, also, long neck with my long fingers
The caress is reassuring enough for me to feel calm
It’s a shame, really, that I don’t use my arms to benefit the world
Because I find that when I hold on to people
My grip is a little bit stronger and a little bit sweeter than I expected
Enduring through time, space, and hurts
And I do feel guilty about it
I imagine the first man who wanted to move to the moon or the man who invented fences
Must have felt some form of this guilt
And the first man who was so disconnected from the human race
He needed to touch his chest to reassure himself
That beating hearts exist
Must have lamented, like I do
Who, in Sauron’s name, started this?
Oct 23, 2022
Oct 23, 2022 at 1:48 PM UTC
you see my honourable
rabbi,
i have this problem,
Sauron just keeps
igniting me...
i either buckle and fall
over laughing
on the second h of
the gemini -
the ** the woman bit,
or i am struck with
a need to catch my breath
(my vowels) ah eh:
exasperated,
surd-surfing: f k p c s t -
gargantuan waves of
effort... in genetics
you can say xy -
but that still makes no coordinate
sense, given the z-antics.
Alice looking at the H -
and when i wasn't looking
at the YHWH i swear i could
see a sun, a sea, a mountain -
quantum physics **** right there,
a melissa mccarthy punchline
on the ready.
yep... crude trigonometry central:
starting with sharpened cosine -
and then pinpointing on the Y -
convergent exponential...
plus: so little calculations
were involved.
i swear to god... mingle the latin
phonetic encoding with
the hebraic key,
and you can attest to seeing
a million 'allah'u akbar'
cockerels shout in simultaneous
detonations and
in a Solomonic guise... barely flinch.
Dec 14, 2016
Dec 14, 2016 at 11:01 AM UTC
Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com
Are We Looking Through Sauron’s Eye?
Through our glowing palantiri we watch
Dark images, shadowy and flickering
Ghostly men gathered around machines –
Are we looking through Sauron’s eye?
A silent flash, and structure disappears
Enveloped in blackness and liquid flame
Arcing bits of metal and bits of men -
Are we looking through Sauron’s eye?
Are we looking through Sauron’s eye?
And is that eye now turned on us?
A poem is itself.
Feb 28, 2022
Feb 28, 2022 at 11:17 PM UTC
There are things I thought I knew
About love and its wonders
That was true until I met you
A person who made me ponder
We could talk for hours and hours
about the books we've read
and argue about "The Two Towers"
whether or not Sauron is dead
You became a part of me
A pair that is a perfect fit
Without you I don't function properly
If this is not love I don't know what to call it
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 10:26 AM UTC
Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com
Are We Looking Through Sauron’s Eye?
Through our glowing palantiri we watch
Dark images, shadowy and flickering
Ghostly men gathered around machines –
Are we looking through Sauron’s eye?
A silent flash, and structure disappears
Enveloped in blackness and liquid flame
Arcing bits of metal and bits of men -
Are we looking through Sauron’s eye?
Are we looking through Sauron’s eye?
And is that eye now turned on us?
Feb 28, 2022
Feb 28, 2022 at 8:16 AM UTC
Here I stand as Sauron's bane
Within the chasm doom
I fear the darkness of my prize
Could rival Angmar's tomb
As his master's malice echoes
Tongues of ages past
Drowning out Lord Elrond's cries
Into the fires cast!
Yet could its will so dominate
This Middle-Earth now bade
Free from ruin I hath smote
With but a stroke of Narsil's blade
Perhaps a tool so powerful
Could I now use to lead
Should come the Men of Numenor's
Utmost end of need
Now in my fingers as it turns
My grayest thoughts to gold
I shan't release it from my grasp
For it is mine to hold
Yes it came to me, my own
A gift meant for a king
I must possess the qualities
Of this most precious ring
Dec 5, 2016
Dec 5, 2016 at 1:28 AM UTC
Lawrence Hall Poems
2d
Tolkien's Shelob the Spider
Tolkien’s Shelob the Spider
“…a great malice bent upon him…gloating over…
prey trapped beyond all hope of escape.”
-Tolkien, The Two Towers
A poisonous lump of flesh in malignant repose
Her lair all befouled with scraps of souls
In life sought out with her multiplex eyes
Her Sauron-eyes - it was the hopes that died first
Should a sunbeam shine in, it would be darkened
Should a breath of air waft in, it would be poisoned
Should a sprig of green appear, it would be withered
Should a prayer be whispered, it would be cursed
A poisonous lump of flesh in malignant repose
Within whose realm of hate nothing ever grows
(allusions to The Two Towers and Beowulf)
Nov 7, 2022
Nov 7, 2022 at 8:29 AM UTC