Once in the land of Kibosh
In the castle between worlds
Was the mighty warrior, Yargh,
And the dice he deftly hurled.
He gambled with the gnomes and elves
And other clever fey
But lightning struck and Yargh’s great luck
Won the money and the day.
A fighter yes, so strong and bold
With blood as cold as ice
But we sing not of his prowess
With the blade, but of the dice.
So sing of Yargh the fortunate,
The winner of our game.
His only lack of luck is that
His parents chose that name.
Filed under Poems
She saw a roll of wrapping paper,
A pool noodle, and a stick.
He saw a lightsaber, a lightsaber, and a lightsaber
Because he has a dick.
Filed under Poems
There once was a fellow named Baggins
Who tired of old Gandalf’s naggin’s.
He stole a gold ring
From a fire snake thing
And inspired the game “Dungeons and Dragons”.
Filed under Poems
A fantasy author was getting tired
Of calling things dragons, and so he hired
A marketing guru and said “Hey, it’s lame
“That all of these dragons have the same name!”
So the marketing guru sat down and thought
That people didn’t use “Y” quite a lot,
So he proposed the namesWyvern and Wyrm
And both those became an acceptable term.
Alas, Mr. writer will probably live
Long enough for his stories to give
The inevitable climax, the ultimate sin:
A book where the monster is spelled as “Dragyn”.
Filed under Poems
Nobody knows the journey of a cat:
Where they go or what they do,
What secret groves within they sat
Or fearsome vermin that they slew.
No one knows the lives they’ve saved
And the worlds they lost in vain.
Such is the mystery of the cat;
Both majesty and pain.
Filed under Poems
My girl is sexier than yours.
She could knock hinges off doors.
She has pretty knees and toes
And looks good with and without clothes.
She has pretty auburn hair
And says fancy stuff like “Au contraire”.
She’s the girl I’m going to marry…
Who cares if she’s imaginary?
Filed under Poems
All the women who play video games
And complain about bikini armor
Never seem to complain about how
Swords and arrows never harm her,
But men are stuck with heavy armor
Instead of a chainmail thong
Because if men could wear female armor
They’d be unbelievably strong.
Filed under Poems
No matter your age or your weight or your sex,
If you like Raisin Bran or prefer Chex,
There comes a time when the day is all done
You bid fond farewell to the moon and the sun
And fade into fancy, a limerent land
Where nothing is normal and banished is bland,
Where poets can prosper and perchance partake
In fantasy simply for fantasy’s sake.
I wish you good venture into such a place
As the slackness of sleep falls fast on your face.
Sleep now, and linger beyond the awake
Where nothing is real but nothing is fake.
Strawberry girl who smiled at me,
I can’t help but wonder who it is you see.
Is it a ghost? In your heart I haunt
With illusory promise of all that you want;
Or is it a man who won’t stop the fight
To find you? Which one of us brings you delight?
Strawberry girl who gave me a kiss,
When we’re apart which me do you miss?
Is it the thought of the way that you feel
Like each moment we are is too sweet to be real;
Or is it the man protecting the bruise
Someone left on his heart? Which me will you choose?
Strawberry girl who held me one day,
I will be your man, whether mortal or fey;
A dream or a person, a prayer or a mind;
Someone to be cherished or else left behind.
You are a woman, but also a thought,
And I’ll be your man whether you’re here or not.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 