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KRAWK DAY SPECIAL
Guardian of the Waves
Undulating waves seek the mysterious beast,
Slicing through the ocean, his power released.
Keeper of the ocean, the king of all seas,
Guardian of the waves, his soul swims free.
Dark and gloomy, the depths are below,
Life is disguised by a hidden eerie glow.
Fading light, no hope found here,
The murky waters one does fear.
Maraquan Krawk, he glides with peace,
His siren all around; will never cease,
Protecting the walls holding the ocean,
Floating along, feeling the motion.
Golden light dancing off, a glaze,
The ocean's wonder, its beauty ablaze.
Swift and light throughout the waves,
Skulk below between the misty caves.
All day long, protecting his kingdom,
Exploring the realm, feeling his freedom.
The mysterious creature, too quick for the eye,
Through the azure waters, he seemingly flies.
For Krawkawk, One Darigan Krawk
One Krawk, one lone Darigan Krawk,
Launches from the floating Citadel.
She hovers in the moonless vault
High above sleeping Meridell.
The purple of her scaly skin,
Regal colour, the choice of queens,
Reflects the nobility in her heart
And guarantees she remains unseen.
As gliding does she cross the sky
On leather wings, ribbed and spiked,
A silent spectre in the void,
Just one more drop in the ink of night.
Her mane flows back from august face,
Blown into a crown by gusting air.
Her brows are arched in private thought;
Her eyes glow red with sanguine stare.
And on she wheels into the gloaming,
Her cudgel tail steering her course,
A path serpentine, seemingly random,
A drifting danger masking her force.
For as she flies and floats unnoticed,
She watches the kingdom far below,
Awaiting Lord Darigan's call to battle,
As only power can sate her hungry soul.
To Escape and Be Free
Jaws snap shut, wires fly,
The robot Krawk is now awake!
Sharp of sight and green of eye,
He finds and makes his break.
From the lab a gaping hole
Heralds the passage of the Krawk.
Smouldering ruins, black as coal,
Remain where stood a lock.
The metallic limbs reach out far,
Tearing through steely walls.
Before gnashing teeth and dribbling tar,
The lab's exit buckles and falls.
The robot Krawk whirls his head,
No more darkness, only light.
A tranquil forest lies ahead,
Offering peace and respite.
Behind his form alarms now scream,
Chilling the Krawk to his circuits.
He starts to run, eyes agleam,
Excitement filling spinning sprockets.
Legs move by strong hydraulics,
Miles pass beneath his feet.
The Krawk's destiny now begins,
Like the one he saw in his vivid dreams.
Like Ether with a Crooked Grin
His eyes an anticipating tan and
his tail a flick of vigour, his cornflower mane
carefree and unrestrained as the
willow cloud-marks he bears --
they which name him
to be of the wide, wide skies,
an entity ought to be greeted
by the eternal blue upon
coming home above and beyond
the sun's pale cloud-breaths.
His thoughts wander miles, like
a balloon barely tethered and gently
reaching, and if things were
but a little different,
he'd be up and away.
But no, he is landlocked --
the Krawk's (indeed sizable) feet
began their sojourn from a
cavern unbeknownst to most,
and continue still to where'er he pleases,
save the sky and its wonders
yonder and above;
and so he muses his days away,
quite landlocked but
contemplation soaring far:
like ether with a crooked grin.
A Curious Transformation of My Krawk
My Krawk was a Petpet once,
Of this I'm positive;
I know you ask, how can it be,
How can you really know for sure,
But I'll tell you why it's so.
I remember clearly buying it,
This cute little Petpet,
At Little Nippers,
Where odd things were for sale.
Remember haggling over a price --
Does ten Dubloons sound fair?
And coming out all in style,
My new Petpet proudly under one arm.
I remember feeding him,
My new little addition,
And how I cleaned and kept his bed,
And took him for a walk twice a day.
These things are clear in my mind,
I swear to you I would not forget,
Nor mix up and muddle,
Such an important event.
Seems to me it was just one day --
How curious a coincidence,
For we were out exploring,
We were in a cave, dark and cool,
With odd fungus on the rocks.
When along we came out into the light,
My little companion did look strange,
For up to now he'd been quite small,
A little stumpy, not so keen of eye,
But now before me, lo behold!
No longer Petpet, but pet, my Krawk was,
And so it's been, ever since.
Whispers on the Wind
The Krawk of Darigani birth
Struggles hard against the winds;
With eyes shut tight and muscles flexed,
Fiercely strains his tattered wings.
The howling ghosts of Meridell
Reach for him with wispy hands.
The grudges of an age-old war
Haunt the sky above these lands.
His crimson irises turn up,
Seeking out the airborne ground,
As whispers of an angry world
Swirl and bellow all around.
His hair is windswept, jaw is clenched;
Closer, higher still he flies.
The twister reaches fever pitch,
Wailing livid, untamed cries.
The Krawk, with final burst of speed,
Touches down, home safe at last,
And in the distance, whispers fade,
Returning to the rightful past.
Sharp as his arrows, and just as swift,
Sir Korinesta travels Brightvale's
Dancing green hills,
Seeking a resting place for
Legs weary, and quiver empty.
Brightvale's fair valleys, deep and green,
Call to his heart, and bid him stop there,
While forests of oak and hazel and beech
Offer cool shelter from the day's heat,
And flourishing fields of gold,
A soft path for road-weary feet.
Brightvale castle's bells ring
In the lingering evening hour,
And invite him in a joyful strain
To the tempting parties and feasts,
And courtiers pleasant and damsels pretty,
That its tapestried chambers contain.
But what seduces this wanderer's mind
Is a little pastoral copse, where ivy leaves
Flourish and curl, bedropped with bluebells,
And young birch trees bend and sway
To the softest breath of breeze --
There he'll stay, amidst mossy rock,
Silver bark and singing creek,
World-wanderer, home at last,
In peaceful solitude and restful ease.
The Sinister Neovian Krawk
A hat perched jauntily at the tip of his brow --
Confident, charming, composed,
Suave winks and gentlemanly airs --
Never reveal the trickery behind the reptilian eyes.
Coolly polite, a fluttering kiss on your hand.
Sly eyes shift to and fro -- Krawk eyes.
Listen to me, you'll never guess, of the sinister plots
In the depths of that devilish mind.
Ever so smooth, never a hitch --
Perfect actor, always pretending,
Wrapped in expensive silks, donning polished shoes,
Charismatic to all, wooing you --
Cunning, clever, catty eyes --
Handsome, sharp, everlastingly scheming.
Those glittery eyes -- they speak of stealth.
As melting gazes disarm, his plans fall in place...
Pray that his golden eyes never catch you unawares!
Be sure to know to Sinister Neovian Krawk!
The Faerie Krawk
To fly, unfettered,
upon a wisp of breeze;
to fly, unbound by
the land, and expectations of it.
To be free of the greed
that paralyses her land-bound cousins;
greed for riches and treasure,
for silver and gold;
a greed that hangs over her species
like a bad smell, a smell
of rotting fungus and stale cave air.
To be free, of this greed
that makes other Krawks a slave
to the clinking of Dubloons,
to the call of the sea
with its promises of adventure
in faraway lands, offshore places.
No, she is of the skies;
where nothing's more substantial than
a whisper of cloud in the sun --
but sometimes, oh, sometimes --
she hears the song of the sea,
tastes its salty breeze,
and her pulse thrums a heady beat
for a longing she can't deny.
Ode to the Krawk
"Arr!" shout the Krawks from their quarters,
spreading cheer and gold.
For only once in many days does one
have so much to behold.
Krawks of all shapes and sizes come, you see,
for all the fun and partying.
And when it's done, there is still more fun,
but some are ready for departing.
What happens during this celebration?
Experts can only guess.
Some say that they make special foods,
others think they open a treasure chest.
However, many may think they're right,
we can never know for sure.
And during this I don't think Krawks
will let you on a tour.
Toward the end of the day,
they prepare to resume their normal lives.
Until it comes again, which it sure will,
from dawn till sunrise.
The Resolve of a Krawk Petpet
I will not eat this fungus, no,
It's damp and green and icky!
Your pleas will not avail you here;
It's not my fault I'm picky!
Did I ask to be dragged down here
To a cave so wet and cold?
And now you expect me to eat fungus
Simply because I've been told?
No, I don't care in the least
What benefits I'll get.
I'll have you know I'm quite content
To remain a Petpet.
In vain you beg me just to try
A teeny tiny bite;
You say you won't leave 'til I do --
Well, I can wait all night.
I don't believe I've ever seen
Such distasteful fungi,
And you expect me to eat THAT?
Why don't YOU have a try?
I think I'll stay a Krawk Petpet;
I'm quite content with my lot,
So I shall not dine on green fungi
In a cave that stinks of rot.
Perhaps I Can Be of Assistance...
You there with that furrowed brow,
That look of pain and scorn,
Why do you walk with such disdain?
Why are you so forlorn?
Don't you know your troubles
Are so easily undone?
With this simple potion here,
Your worries will be none.
Yes, Hissi Oil does the trick,
To make your dreams come true,
Do you wish for wealth or fame?
Or to become young anew?
A smattering of Neopoints
Is all for this great brew,
How can you fail to trust me?
I'm as honest as I'm blue.
You walk away quite sceptically,
But hopeful nonetheless,
Your wish will soon be granted,
But your joy turned to distress.
Expectations far exceeded,
And your darker side revealed,
Your town is doomed to discord,
While I remain concealed.
For I am Mr. Krawley,
The two-faced mastermind,
Both the heartless culprit
And the rescuer entwined.
I've left for you a flower,
As my parting gift to thee,
Now I'll leave you to this nightmare
Of a tale, oh woe is me!
Feline eyes that glow dangerously,
Emanating a golden hue,
Whose eyes -- whose fierce, cunning eyes?
They're the eyes of the Maraquan Krawk!
Scales as hard as diamonds,
That shine blue-green in the murky waters,
Whose scales -- whose flashing, sparkling scales?
They're the scales of the Maraquan Krawk!
Teeth that glitter in the night,
Sharp as the sharpest knife or blade,
Whose teeth -- whose snapping, fearsome teeth?
They're the teeth of the Maraquan Krawk!
Muscles that propel the body forth,
Through waters, both fast and slow:
Whose muscles -- whose lean, sinuous muscles?
They're the muscles of the Maraquan Krawk!
Swimming carelessly, but with such grace,
He makes his way like a sleek wraith,
What is this creature -- this stunning, lithe creature?
It's the Maraquan Krawk!
A Discovery Of Eyes
She was always told she was ugly:
Dirty hair, oily skin, elongated face --
Ugly. That's what she saw
In the mirror, that's what she saw in the lake.
Every day her heart reached out,
Willing that reflection to change,
For beauty to be bestowed on her,
But every day it was the same.
She saw beautiful faerie pets
As they flew through the air,
Vibrant wings almost glowing...
And she was stuck with her
Rigid, scaly back,
Hooked fingers, and tufty hair.
"Can I be painted faerie?"
She asked, but the answer
Was always no.
On a morning just like any other,
She was staring into a pond
At her ugly reflection,
When someone walked up to her.
"You have lovely eyes," they said.
"I didn't know that Krawks could have
Nice eyes. You've changed my
Perception -- thank you."
And with a smile, they walked away,
But they had changed her life,
Because now she knew something:
She had lovely eyes.
The Krawk Queen
Eyes like a blood-dripping gem,
Wherever she looks, they condemn,
Turning innocence to blackness of stone,
Stripping ruthlessly through dry white bone.
Blue-white fire within smoulders;
The icy expression grows colder
As the blizzard of a winter's day.
The hate inside, the claws betray,
Sharp and jagged to cut and tear,
Warning lesser creatures they must beware.
A slow throaty growl shakes the earth;
It rumbles and rolls as if in mirth.
Colour is leeched by a full moon's light,
Causing her unfriendly scales to shine bright
On this day of magic and superstition.
I draw a quick breath, she peers round. Suspicion.
Never a greater beauty could you see
Teeth a-glistening, she looks at me.
Total Poetry Pages : 1971
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