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CHOMBY DAY SPECIAL
Confessions of a Chomby Glutton
Jelly, jelly everywhere,
But which ones can I eat?
I try to eat one much too big
And it devours me.
Oh jellies, jellies sliding by,
One day I'll be big enough for you.
I will eat you one and all
Even if you're blue.
Until then, I will slide by too
And settle for smaller ones
While I dream of days when I'll eat you
All and feel like I have won.
Cornupepper, lemon, lime, mint:
I'll gobble you down so I can grow.
Thornberry, fish, even lint:
Maybe I'll eat the world, who knows?
Jelly in front of me,
Jelly to each side,
I'd better get out quick,
So I start to slip and slide.
Oh no! I'm going much too fast!
Just when I thought I'd win,
My tail brushes an orange blob
And it starts to suck me in.
Seemingly mindless blobs of doom,
Moving slowly toward my death,
I long to eat 'til there's no more room.
'Til then, I'll settle for points on Neopets.
To Reach the Highest Leaves
Interlaced, the emerald green,
That only breeze shall rouse.
Ironic that the luscious leaves,
Hide on the tallest boughs.
Elongated and outstretched,
Past lower branches, dart.
A neck so long it's hard to tell,
Where Chomby form might start.
Tail used as anchor firm,
He stands on tiptoes tall.
Hope within his very heart,
That tasty snacks might fall.
The angry breeze remains his friend,
It loosens each small treat.
They spiral down like emerald flame,
To land near Chomby's feet.
Should stance fail, nothing's lost,
He'll take an angry stance.
Charge toward the trunk like mad,
And, rampaging, advance.
Massive form will hit the bark,
And shake lose distant snack.
Tail swung at shaking tree,
The sound? Resounding WHACK!
Oh, to reach the highest leaves,
Impossible, it seems!
And yet for Chomby on the ground,
It's still of what he dreams.
To shake the emerald from up high,
And have a chance at each.
Temptations swaying in the breeze,
For him, just out of reach.
A Sonnet to a Yellow Chomby Gnome
Oh, Yellow Chomby Gnome, you make me smile.
The way you perch amidst my garden's plants
Quite simply adds a needed dash of style.
No other gnomes compare; they simply can't!
Your pointed maroon hat and little beard
Will never fail to fill me up with glee.
Now, some may say you look a little weird,
But those folks never will be friends with me.
The one pink flower wrapped around your tail
Holds in its bloom the fading summer's grace.
Your intricacy, porcelain detail
Shall always put a grin upon my face.
And so, my Yellow Chomby Gnome, my dear,
You'll always be the one that I revere.
Lone figure on the table's edge,
A yellow Chomby small.
Made of paper, motionless,
It does not walk nor crawl.
Origins remain unknown,
(Though Shenkuu is my guess.)
Striking is the resemblance,
Never failing to impress.
Simplistic form, face rather blank,
Yet shape is recognised.
Protruding are the triangles:
Each spike equal in size.
Staggered feet almost as if
Ready to leap for joy.
Folded twice, the tapering tail,
Completes this Chomby toy.
Origami, so it seems,
Is paper's best disguise.
With every fold, with every twist,
A new form does arise.
This one took a Chomby's shape,
(A fine choice, I should say.)
And until this toy is unfolded,
A Chomby it will stay.
Chomby calls for gentle touch,
For 'twill quite easily rip.
Paper is so delicate,
One tug would ruin its tips.
Yet minimal care is required:
No leaves must this toy chew.
If you've no time, but love Chombies,
This folded one's for you.
The Old Chomby's Garden Canticle
Look at the years that paint my skin,
the lonely months that took my eyes.
See the stumble in my steps,
and you'd think the whole world has passed me by.
But let me tell you, and let me tell you so,
that age stops growth only from the inside,
and so here is the land clutching a bouquet
of ripe sunbeams that take the night in
for its stars, not the dark.
Let me tell you of the river when
it's heading home to greet a tide,
when it's putting on the armory of winter
and taking the praise from the Stars of Paradise
as a humbly gallant river will often do.
And it's been flowing here since my neck
was long and youthful and red,
and it won't go to bed very soon.
Look at the years that keep Neopia
in orbit, in seasons of burns and blooms,
look at the months that pass us by
and toss up a brief shiver, an annual change,
some temporary sunshine but perpetual youth.
Look at the petals of the sun falling
off my skin and watch the moon
cocoon me in its pallid form.
But the beauty doesn't have to leave me
if I take it all in as light
and not age.
Admiral Blackbeard at the Food Club
"Get ready to eat your meal,"
The stout-looking referee shouts,
Ignoring that some of the pets
Look at their plates with obvious doubts.
Admiral Blackbeard is not one of them --
Fungi Pizza is not his favourite meal,
But as long as it contains no dairy,
It is something with which he can deal.
The food club referee blows his whistle;
The pirate Chomby picks up the food,
Swallows it nearly in one piece.
He is first, it quickly lifts his mood.
Broccoli is the second course.
Blackbeard grins at the vegetable --
Eating this one will be no problem;
It's his favourite food, his label.
Spectators stand all around in the lagoon
Cheering as Admiral Blackbeard
Picks up the food and swallows it
As soon as on the plate it appeared.
"We have a winner," the referee shouts
Walking over to who did best today
And it happens to be our Chomby captain
Who ate all the food with no delay.
Song of the Chomby Genie
Oh, take my lamp and set me free,
By rubbing it you shall see me
And I shall grant you your deepest desires
Gold, jewels, power, healing fires!
"Who are you?" Who am I?
The Chomby Genie, that is no lie!
That means your wish is my command,
You can send me on any errand!
Well, almost, for there is a limit.
It's true, so don't you throw a fit!
I'll grant you a few wishes before I go
Back into the lamp, where it's cramped so.
(In that case, maybe it's better
If you weren't a wish-maker
And you would let me roam free
Oh, all the sights I could see!)
That aside, what is your wish?
An extremely fancy Gourmet Club dish?
A bag of Neopoints, a heap of gold?
Rare artefacts from times of old?
But alas, nobody ever asks a genie
What his dreams and wishes would be.
I may possess great magic and power
All to be used for the sake of my master.
Yes, I know I should stop singing
And listen to bells in your head ringing.
You've given it thought and it's hard to resist
Making a really, really long wish list!
Don't you know I can't grant you everything?
To my song, you probably weren't listening!
The picture was incomplete
Until Tyrannia was discovered
And with it, the gentle Chomby.
From a land of dryness and fire
And rock all clothed
In matching dusty hues,
They came in herds moving slowly,
Representatives of an age --
A lost age, an age in transition,
Whispering faint stories about
A primordial darkness
Into Tyrannian heat.
Placid and tranquil,
They came to us
A Part of Me
The cool waves of the deep,
Bluest blue, salty and wonderful,
They enchant me as I twirl,
My tail propelling me through the water.
I have been part of this world,
For such a long time now,
And yet it never ceases to amaze me,
With its unending beauty and majesty.
The grace of the waves is undying,
It shall never be lost,
But it will forever be found,
By those new to the waves and sea,
That will delight in her many wonders,
And enchanting realms,
Beneath the waves.
Glittering in the sun,
The light reflecting off her skin,
I swim and do not wonder about the world,
Above what we call the surface.
I am a Maraquan Chomby,
My green skin and large eyes
Are characteristic to my form,
And I dearly love my owner,
For what she has done for me.
Life is wondrous beneath the cool waves,
And I am never discontent with my small world,
Many might be in the face of how little I have,
But something inside me, deep inside,
Just doesn't seem to care.
Little Jelly Chomby
In a wobbly, shiny, nonexistent world,
a little jelly Chomby wants to grow.
He wanders among the tasty streets,
Holding in his mouth a dream of treats,
For the yummy, slippery sweetness that will
To the top of his stomach warmly fill.
Some little purple tidbits come sailing by,
And the Chomby follows, slow and sly,
Gradually, fiercely, building up haste,
Till the jellies become an aftertaste.
He burps and sighs, ready for more,
And behold! He grabs a whopping four
Lovely pink jellies, so bright and fine,
That dissolve in him into strength divine.
Then his hunger rumbles, roaring, great,
And he gobbles on at a furious rate.
Pretty red jellies? Come on in!
NOM, NOM, orange treats for the win!
And wow, what's this? A yellow giant?
He turns to face it, bold, defiant,
And with a loud gulp he's eaten that too!
Now what should appear, out of the blue,
But a majestic, dark blue, gleaming blob,
Bearing upon him with a deadly throb!
The last thing he sees, mouth agape,
Is a sea of jelly, and no escape...
Oh, not for nothing do they assume
The name of "Jelly Blobs of DOOM."
Total Poetry Pages : 1972
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