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”.
Tag Archives: Fantasy
Watch… It’ll Be A Baby Name Too In 2035
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
And You Thought They Just Slept A Lot And Licked Themselves!
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
She’s Actually Not, But The Punchline Makes Me Seem Desperate, And Desperation Is Funny
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
Just Another Way Men Are Casually Oppressed
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
Dreamland
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
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
Playground
Some people bought the story
Of pursuing fame and glory,
Of health and wealth and growing,
Running forward, never slowing.
I see those people every day,
Each burned out in their own way,
Faces lined by years and hassle;
I laugh inside my cardboard castle.
They are knights in shining armor,
Not satisfied to be a farmer,
Dying for causes another chose;
My armor is purple pillows.
They fight over feelings they never said,
Fighting a thought they’ve trapped in their head
For fear if people knew what they thought
They’d be revealed as someone not doing so hot.
I know I’m a no-one, and no I don’t care
As I play in my sandbox in fresh autumn air.
Maybe you mock me, but maybe you doubt;
After all, what if fun is what life’s all about?
What if the crusaders, celebrities, kings
Understand medals are just metal things?
What if they know, but their leisure depends
On you staying tired and having no friends?
Do you want to know if enough is enough,
If the pain doesn’t pay for the meaningful stuff?
Care to discover if your dreams can come true?
My castle has enough space to fit two…
Filed under Poems
Worth Waiting For
One day a boy was throwing stones
At nothing in the wood
When he struck the belly of
A creature pure and good,
A unicorn of golden mane,
A thing so unexpected
He hardly knew what he could do
The moment they connected.
He knew just what the creature was,
For one cannot mistake
A unicorn for something plain,
An angel for a rake.
He laid his hands upon it
And for some time they were one
Until the moon had passed ahead,
The herald of the sun.
And when the boy had fallen
Into sleep, as boys must do,
The unicorn turned to the North
And took a step, then two,
And when the boy awoke again
His heart was full of light
As he looked for where the unicorn
Had cantered in the night.
At first he was uncertain,
Even fearful in his thought
For wherever he went looking
There the unicorn was not.
To chase it would be folly;
To lose it would be doom;
So he made himself be visible
And gave it lots of room.
He smiled while he waited
‘Til the smile hurt his face,
Then he cried and laughed alternately
And prayed aloud for grace.
The boy is waiting as we sleep,
For sleep we all must do,
Until he hears the hooves again
Come Southward, one, then two.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 