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MOEHOG DAY SPECIAL
Judge's note: Please check out the Tyrannian Victory Day Special on the previous page!
Listen to the Ship's Cook
let me be your poignant guide,
trust me to know your needs
and on what your existence relies.
close your eyes and pretend to imagine
nine nights without food
in a stone city, suffering.
now be Moehog, young,
all hooves and bones and fur
be clumsy and benighted
from a life of unsparing existence.
dream of food,
apples snapping with a juicy crack,
meat pies and black-eyed peas.
see how the hours own you,
stealing your life away,
and here visions without pity,
find a ship one day,
sailing in to the sound of screams,
watch how they eat and plunder bread,
open eyes wide and crouch low
to avoid blows, and sneak aboard
when you get the chance.
now open your eyes,
see before you a Moehog grown
sits with bitter stare and eyes you.
see now how I came to be
and eat your vittles with joy.
The Moehog Poet
The Moehog Poet settles in
With empty page and inkstained quill,
Casting mind for inspiration,
Submissive to creation's will.
A poet hat upon her head,
Lucky feather rooted to the brim.
Poet's pants are silk and roomy;
Poet's shirt leaves free the limbs.
Yet still despite the creature comforts,
Or, perhaps, their succour is to blame,
The poet chews on pointy nib
While the pristine page spotless remains.
So too does her mind persist empty;
No muses call to whisper, hint.
No inklings tease from murky shadows,
No notion demands her mind's imprint.
The poet embraces the desolation,
Entering the inky void,
Until the quill begins to scribble,
Her arm not quite consciously employed.
Poem finished, she is depleted,
The Moehog Poet an empty husk.
What remains is the ether she has filtered
With her whole being, from hoof to tusk.
He does not live, he merely exists --
You'll find him at the end of
Old passages tortuous and black
Of the Darigan Citadel,
Stranded in a silent dungeon,
Tar-dark, bleak, a tomb really,
That holds the living until --
Thinking about it makes it worse.
He is grey-bearded now, aged beyond recognition,
But not dead yet, though those who knew him
Guiltily convince themselves that he is.
The truth is that he has been forgotten,
And is now alone -- alone, but not completely,
For in cells next to his, others lie
And wait like him, shadows of the lost,
Of those going slowly mad.
That chain has lain around his neck so long
It feels like his own sinew,
And he has forgotten how to speak --
He only cracks worn hooves on the stone floor,
One clop for yes, two for no,
Three for food -- and the rest?
Four, five, six, a thousand --
Deeds not done, gutted wishes,
Dead thoughts unsaid?
He is like the dry weeds that grow
Between his cell's paving stones,
Surviving silent and forgotten
Between the cracks of life.
Desert Flower strides across the sand,
Clutching fuchsia petals in her hand.
Windswept Moehog hair obscures her eyes;
Lashes flutter, bashful butterflies.
Amber fur, reflecting naked light,
Oiled with perspiration, glitters bright.
Distant Sakhmet wavers in the heat,
Waiting for the blossom-bearing feet.
No one knows the dunes as well as she;
Blooming gems are not easy to see.
Buds peek out from wasteland's dry embrace,
Seeking out the gentle Moehog's face.
Desert Flower takes them in her hand.
Moving on, she strides across the sand.
Shaking the Curse
After the cheers have subsided,
And the confetti falling has ceased,
The Krawk Island team again starts to practice,
Or Nitri Cassale does at least.
For this Moehog has much to prove,
It's hard being on such a strong team.
Her fans expect the best from them,
But there is one obstacle it may seem.
Because there is this thing of which they speak,
A 'winner's curse' has befallen them, they say,
And they will not place this year,
Not even top three, try as they may.
But luckily for Cassale, she does not believe
About vexes and curses and such things.
Still, it makes her wonder,
What this Altador Cup V brings.
All she can do is play with her heart,
To win with honour, and lose with grace,
And shake this pattern from the past,
In order to stand once again in first place.
She's the bringer of darkness,
And the taker of light.
With potions and spells,
She helped Lord Kass's plight.
Not only is she magical,
She's an excellent spy, too.
Watch out for her keen eyes,
But also for her brew.
Morguss trusts no-one,
But evil seems to trust her.
As soon as Darigan was gone,
Her alliance to Kass she did transfer.
When a new battle is waged,
And it's once again time to take sides,
Watch out for this Moehog,
And the dark magic she provides.
Groovy, Disco Moehog!
From across the flashing room,
Across the expanse of disco floors,
A being, rather green, was smiling.
He was a curious creature, I thought --
He had a tuft of orange hair.
Hair that rose against gravity,
Hair that poofed this way and that,
Hair that was obnoxiously orange.
His tail was bizarre as well,
Tail that had a little daisy,
Tail that was short and stubby,
Tail that had a flower. Let that sink in.
Let's not mention his shades, shall we?
Shades of oval shape, glinting in the light,
Shades that dipped low when he peered over them,
Shades that hid his smiling visage.
This is the disco Moehog.
And as soon as he starts dancing,
You will NEVER ever forget him.
The Zombie Moehog
Wispy, smoky tendrils beckon
From the thickened fog.
Tempting, twisting, taunting you,
The cursed zombie Moehog.
Sure of hoof, held fast to course,
He comes striding down the path.
This creature of the nightfall
Seeks a victim for his wrath.
Bloodless pallor, ashen grey,
Skin icy to the touch,
Crimson stains on dagger tusk,
You'd best not linger much.
What wrong was done to you in life
That raised you from the dead?
What plays behind those sightless eyes
That fuels your hatred?
Eternal soldier guards his realm
Until his soul may rest,
Though many a wary traveller
Has failed to pass his test.
In tandem with the sun's last rays,
Fair folk withdraw from sight.
Aren't YOU afraid to wander through
The Haunted Woods at night?
If you see a Moehog,
And elegance does not come to mind,
Then the Neopet you see must not be
A Moehog of the faerie kind.
For the faerie Moehog is gorgeous;
With her regal, dainty toes,
She capers lightly from here to there,
No matter where she goes!
Her bright eyes dance merrily,
And her mane flutters lightly in the breeze,
As she prances happily among the flowers,
And the gilded butterflies and trees.
But while graceful on the ground,
She is by far more beautiful in the air:
With her expansive, bejewelled wings,
She flies lithely without a care.
So before you cast off all Moehogs,
As creatures that can only trip, fumble, and fall,
Remember well the faerie Moehog,
For she is the most graceful Neopet of all!
The Giant Moehog Plushie
A year ago, on my birthday,
My friend cleared out his Safety Deposit Box.
He gave me a plushie he didn't want.
I would have preferred old socks.
The gift was a Giant Moehog Plushie,
The colour of asparagus or a pea.
I stared at it with great distrust.
That's not a colour a Moehog should be.
I thought about discarding the poor thing,
But it looked incredibly sad.
So I put the thought out of my head,
And felt a little bit bad.
Although at the time I didn't like it much,
I placed the Moehog upon my bed.
What a wondrous place of honour
For that Moehog of stuffing and thread.
I was sound asleep in my bed
The night after my birthday,
When I had a dream about the Moehog.
It had something important to say:
"You may not think I am beautiful,
But I have a kind and gentle heart.
Every plushie needs some love,
Otherwise our seams will fall apart."
The next morning, when I woke up,
I realised how wrong I had been.
Now, I make sure to hug the plushie every day,
For it is the best plushie I have ever seen.
I am alone.
Once a warrior for my city,
A brave soul with a strong heart.
I was an officer of Lord Darigan's army,
Wielding the blade was my art.
Now I am alone.
My hooves now chafe and are sore,
Held by manacles made of dark steel.
Melded to the cold dungeon floor,
That grips my frozen heel.
I am alone.
My voice was taken, I was cheated,
And left to sleep and bemoan my loss.
My groaning pleas were left unheeded,
By Master Vex, the warden, the boss.
I am alone.
My fellow inmates are my comfort now,
A silent, compassionate comfort.
We eat our meals with a heavy brow,
And play Cellblock together in the dirt.
Yet while we are together, we are apart,
Locked in our own forgotten cells --
From which not a being can depart,
No matter what he screams and yells.
Thus, I am alone.
A Moehog Princess
The moon was high,
Big and white,
Like a lost coin.
The princess was dressed
In the finest linen,
Her pretty dress rustling
Like the wind through the trees.
Some say that Moehogs
Cannot be attractive,
But this Moehog Princess
Was as pretty as a picture.
She smiled, and her subjects
Let out a sigh.
Their princess was
Everything that they'd been
There were oohs and ahhs,
But she took no notice,
Simply dancing under the moon,
To a tune that only she could hear.
The Mortogs croaked,
The reeds shivered,
And odd other Petpets
Made a tune.
Others partnered up,
And following the princess's
Example, they danced
Like there was no tomorrow.
Admire him for his courage,
Admire him for his strength.
Admire him for defending us
Against Invader Skeiths.
Admire him for not giving up
When all hope seemed lost;
Admire him for defending us,
When no one else was left.
Admire him for his brilliance
And cunning strategy;
Admire him for his leadership,
His friendship and his love.
Admire him for everything
That makes him who he is;
The bravest Moehog soldier,
Valiant Meridell knight.
The True Moehog
Please, I beg of you,
look beyond the outside,
only if you knew,
what is deep down inside.
Although I may seem ugly,
and my thoughts unwise,
I will always smile kindly,
to cure others of their demise.
Although many to me despise,
and laugh at my integrity,
there is more than meets the eye,
don't you feel any pity?
The truth is not cynical,
please accept me,
and be more analytical,
to see behind the bias -- don't you agree?
My Baby Moehog
One bright spring day,
I walked into the backyard barn.
From inside, shadows loomed,
Tall stacks of hay.
Snuffly noises, soft yet loud,
Curiosity piqued, just one peek?
I creep yet closer still,
Keeping near the walls.
With an explosion of hay,
and my yelp of surprise,
I was knocked to the ground, stunned.
Just a little Moehog! A baby one!
One with too-big ears and great grey eyes,
Pink snout, little hooves, big smile.
A wagging tail, a toothless grin,
I was melting, there is such a thing as too cute.
Into my pocket I reach,
A single candy, chocolate.
He smacks his lips.
The chocolate is gone,
My clothes are ripped,
In the blink of an eye,
The baby Moehog gone,
With the rest of my chocolate.
That'll teach me to fall for
those baby eyes!
Total Poetry Pages : 2008
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