Bardolan - Posted: Friday Feb 21st, 2003 4:25am GMT

A silent figure approaches at night,
The giant from abroad that brings delight.
A hopless cause that sees no end,
Awaiting another time to then transcend.
He comes forth now to entertain,
But why before did he refrain?
It may not be known to some or all,
That this lost bard missed his curtain call.
But now I have come to dazzel your ears,
To quicken your hearts and quelch your fears.
The Bard is here now celebrate,
for to this party youl'd not wish to be late.

Thats right....I decided to post a little bit here as well...You can start fleeing in terror whenever

Nakamuro Zataki - Posted: Friday Feb 21, 2003 9:47am GMT

Ph.Red is here...

*looks for a tree, jello, a bucket of nails and a hammer*

Phred - Posted: Friday Feb 21, 2003 9:51am GMT

dont make me use my dictionary zataki

Zooty - Posted: Friday Feb 21, 2003 12:17pm GMT

There once was a poet named Phred
Whose eyes were distinctively red
He breaks into verse
With a smile and a curse
Who's Phred? That's right, he's dead.

Tiarra - Posted: Friday Feb 21, 2003 12:52pm GMT

hehe..........the Battle of the Bards has begun !

ackk. too much alliteration there....

Phred - Posted: Saturday Feb 22, 2003 9:15am GMT

Challenge me you dare,
But I must make you aware,
That my pen doth be fair.
A battle may be fought,
With no steel to be wrought,
Yet unaware I shan't be caught.
For you deal with the Bard,
And written upon this card,
Another rhyme, not hard.

Zooty - Posted: Saturday Feb 22, 2003 10:57am GMT

At last, cried Zooty
An opponent, do your duty
Defend OF
With your last breath
From this upstart floozy

Right, said Fred
Zooty, go Red
Pick up a pen
Let's do it again
At stake is our stret-cred

Tiarra - Posted: Saturday Feb 22, 2003 3:33pm GMT

*claps hands*

Two defenders of two wonderful clans !!

*takes a seat and gets the popcorn ready*

Phred - Posted: Saturday Feb 22, 2003 5:57pm GMT

You belive to have me beat,
That I am a helpless sack of meat,
Well you now I must warn,
That ever since I was born,
My words have been considered a treat.

I come here to honor Youkay,
So I'll hold this ground any day,
You are nervous and fickle,
And you words seem quite brittle,
And you're running out of thigns to say.

Though I must tip my hat,
You're good, I'll give you that,
But I am not mastered,
Even though I am plastered,
So you might as well now say "drat".

Tiarra - Posted: Saturday Feb 22, 2003 11:56pm GMT

Twinke, twinkle
little star........

oops...wrong thread ....

Zooty - Posted: Sunday Feb 23, 2003 2:50am GMT

In truth, I fear you not
Though your words run a little hot
I sense in them beauty
At heart, you're a softy
Now Tiarra, she's the cutie

She cheers from the sidelines
As we battle to find rhymes
That will settle the score
For once and for all
In favour of Zooty, that fine wine

Phred - Posted: Sunday Feb 23, 2003 4:16am GMT

You resort to limerick,
When you could use haiku,
But I'll turn out a trick,
Taht few out there can do.

A twisted out style,
Of prose and verse,
Where I go the extra mile,
From want to converse.

For this form is rare,
To find in a book,
But I wish to share,
So you might as well look.

You lay out your rhymes,
To form an intricate plot,
You dance thier designs,
To transcend beyond thought.

When all see the picture,
You are trying to construe,
You then stop the lecture,
But all is not through.

You lay down the readers,
Gently to rest,
Then they'll all be belivers,
That you are the best.

Zooty - Posted: Tuesday Feb 25, 2003 2:59am GMT

My absence was brief
And not caused by strife
Enjoying a holiday
At home with the wife

It pleases me greatly
To see the approval
Our words have caused lately
No sign of removal

I vary my style
As you plainly see
To bewitch and beguile
Not bending the knee

No slave to the limerick
I practise my craft
Each day I am slick
No need for First Draft

I welcome you gladly
To OF, dear Ph'red
Our words have been madly
Enjoyed and reread

Phred - Posted: Tuesday Feb 25, 2003 6:30am GMT

A decent reply,
Your words not so quaint,
But be wary as I,
Am damned not a saint.

I'll toss you a new,
Torment to read,
So you can have a few,
Aneurisms to seed.

Now watch very close,
This will happen quite soon,
A twisiting of prose,
That will make your mind swoon.

The pillars of our nation,
Are held aloft by those who preach creation,
But lack a demonstration,
For their admiration.
So I propose an incantation,
Before we leave this station,
Thats is belabored to beration,
Withought hesitation.
As time for contemplation,
Is ended from frustration,
From lack of fornication,
So bring on the masteurbation.

Uoe - Posted: Tuesday Feb 25, 2003 12:11pm GMT

Ok now, I've sat and read every word.
And to some my reply will seem quite absurd.
But I've just a tad bit of rhyme in my head,
To share with or dear friends Zooty and Phred.

My beer is hot, my beer is cold.
But one thing for sure,
My beers never old.
It flows from the can to my cup with such ease,
And soon it will render my conscience at ease.

As I sit here this morning, clearing my mind,
My wife and my children suspended in time,
My beer is my soulmate, lover, and friend.
And so shall it be til the cold bitter end.

It calms me faster than any drug I can find,
And can always be found at a place by my side.
Not once has it failed to loosen my smile,
Replacing the frown of a day gone wild.

I hope I've not managed to upset this game,
Who's winner claims nothing, no fortune or fame.
Just passing the hours with a silly ol ryhme,
Drinking, thinking, and killing some time.

p.s. It's late / I've been drinking / It's snowing.

Zooty - Posted: Thursday Feb 27, 2003 1:54am GMT

Dear Uoe, how nice to hear
That beer leaves you in such good cheer
A glass or two, sometimes three
Is good for what ails thee

Phred - Posted: Thursday Feb 27, 2003 8:28am GMT

OK... I have spent the last day tryign to respond and not ebign abel too.. loseign two realtily insane poems int eh process...so out of shee fatigue... heres a little ditty from Nakamuro Zatakis archives that I wrote a while ago just to keep this going

Footsteps in the hall,
Grow increasingly near,
Breath echos on the wall,
Hearts beat fast with fear.
Stand steadfast,
The muscles taut,
Forever it lasts,
The torment's been wrought.

Swear drips from the brow,
Time loosens the blade,
Soon becomes now,
Descisions are made.

And staring back is there,
A visage clean as day,
Gazes back from your stare,
And you hear your voice say...

"You cannot hide,
You cannot win,
I'm a dagger in your side,
I am the enemy within."

Zooty - Posted: Friday Feb 28, 2003 2:05am GMT

Hope is a good thing to hope for
For, without hope
Life is hopeless

Phred - Posted: Sunday March 2, 2003 3:00am GMT

soul,
what is a soul?
though it rhymes with bowl,
so smokeing must make it whole.
But does not fit with coal,
or smell like a troll.
soul.

fate.
It seems like hate
For mankind to masteurbate,
Instead of sayign outloud why we're irate.
But then that would seem late.
For we are unable to sate.
fate.

Zooty - Posted: Sunday March 2, 2003 5:00am GMT

Our Destiny
Is sometimes hard to see
But, between you and me
Is often scented with victory
As life moves on
Our troubles are gone
I see good times ahead
For all, even Ph'red

Phred - Posted: Sunday March 2, 2003 7:01pam GMT

my future is cloaked in night,
and it reeks of a large lump of shite,
so I implore you, do not read my palm,
For it's vile, a cantankerous baslm.
You cannot possibly insult me more,
For self hate I happen to adore.
Not relly but it makes for good rhyme,
And wastes yet another hour of time.

Tiarra - Posted: Monday March 3, 2003 5:06pm GMT

Arise ! A call to arms is heard
but perhaps only in my head.
I must needs sharpen my wit and my sword
For there is one who seeks me dead.

My unseen foe leaves footsteps ...black, marked on white
Languishing about, dancing just out of reach of me
Remaining out of sight.

Beware, sirrah, for I seek thee
Knight, you shall not be called.
My sword will dispatch you to Hell
No trail.... only dust where you fall.

Phred - Posted: Monday March 3, 2003 10:16pm GMT

Your placated fortress,
Solitude.
Your glass of wine,
Despair.
You thought that you've
unseated me,
but my throne is well,
past here.

You've struck a chord,
Within my walls.
You've over run,
my room.
Now you'll see,
a side of me,
A darkest side,
to the moon.

Bardolan strikes his hammer once,
Bodies explode,
Entrails flow,
Breaking open brain pans as well,
red blood flows,
a river to hell.

and all lies quiet again in the garden of my solitude.