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KYRII DAY SPECIAL
What the Kyrii Thief Covets
When darkness falls upon lands of Neopia,
The Kyrii Thief is there.
An open window the greatest temptation
To this villain who boasts stealth and flair.
But what has this crook come to pilfer,
Rare books or pricey jewels from a lair?
No doubt some great fortune attracts him
As he advances, no moment to spare.
Yet treasure maps do not tempt him,
Precious paintings for him can't compare,
Nor valuable weapons distract him,
From the object of his reckless dare.
The Kyrii Thief moves in silence,
His prize at last clutched, so let all beware!
He will not soon part with his riches,
The secret to fabulous hair.
It's a Great Day to be a Kyrii
It's a great day to be a Kyrii;
it's a day just for us,
for laughing and making each other merry,
giving gifts, eating cake.
The faeries like to flit their wings
the sky is their ballroom.
The pirates will try to steal the show,
they'll snicker and throw candies
shaped like a Kyrii head.
It's a great day to be a Kyrii;
won't you watch our parade?
We'll storm the streets of Neopia,
we'll march right past your house.
We have royals who look so lovely
sitting high upon floats.
Hoist high their royal banners! And you!
Don't let those Kyrii fall.
You need to step in time.
It's a great day to be a Kyrii,
will we get some new clothes?
What wonders will the Rainbow Pool bring?
We'll be on the front page,
oh, we're so excited we can't wait!
The checkereds will start their juggling,
the discos like to prance.
It's not here yet, but it's coming soon,
you'd better be ready!
It's our favourite, Kyrii Day!
Down with Apples!
"Down with apples!" This we say,
For Kyrii, an apple a day
Keeps good health at bay,
Especially on Kyrii Day.
For everyone else, apples are grand,
But put a Granny Smith in our hand,
And soon you'll begin to understand
Why we make this great demand.
Our skin breaks out in itches,
Our fingers go to twitches.
To us, apples are glitches,
Designed to give our fur hitches.
For, oh, the horror of an apple
To give us bright red dapples,
And even if we nap we'll
Reach back with tired paws to grapple.
So keep your apples to yourself
For, to you, they'll give excellent health,
But an apple to us will steal your wealth
In a cure on the Pharmacy's shelf!
Capara the Kyrii
In Neopia there exists a game,
The point is to cheat.
It's exciting, certainly not lame;
You can always trust there's one player you'll beat:
Capara the Kyrii, "the Feisty Rising Star."
She can't make it past level two,
It's rather bizarre.
Anyone could beat her, it's true.
The trophies are modeled after her,
Or so she will claim,
Of that you can be sure,
Even if she is terrible at the game.
She has the finest hair in all of the land,
She boasts to anyone who will listen.
Yes, it certainly is grand,
Especially the way it glistens.
So, go and play Cheat!
I will see you there,
Bring on Capara's defeat,
But, please, don't touch her hair!
Tavi and Baelia
Her name was Tavi
She scaled mountains high
And the cruel Jennumara
Tavi did defy
When she reached a high peak
And set a captive free
This Kyrii proved truly
Her own bravery
An unfortunate wing-clipped faerie
On the mountaintop was caged
Imprisoned for some unknown act
Which made the dark one rage
Tavi asked the grey faerie's name
The faerie did not say
"Help me," she begged, voice soft and weak
Tavi swore to find a way
The Kyrii dug in her knapsack
For something to pick the lock
But the cage was an enchanted one
And the lock began to talk
"My name," the lock said, sneering,
"Ends the faerie's misery.
And she knows, but cannot say it
So she never shall be free."
The sharp-witted Tavi replied
"Little lock, perhaps that's true
But I think that I can guess it.
Let me play a game with you
"I will ask you three questions,
I will not ask you your name
Still, I think that I shall
Figure it out all the same.
"You'll have three guesses -- if you name
Even one of my tools
I'll join the faerie in the cage."
The lock hissed, "You're a fool!"
"I see you are a climber.
I know what your tools must be!"
Tavi coolly continued,
"If I win, you'll set her free."
"Agreed," said the wicked lock.
"Ask what you would of me!"
Tavi gave a small smile and said,
"What's the name of the grey faerie?"
The lock shrieked, "Cheater! Cheater!"
Tavi simply shook her head.
The lock knew then that it was beaten.
"It's Baelia," it said.
"Your name is Baelia as well,"
Said Tavi. "Am I right?"
The lock fell silent to the ground
Knowing it had lost the fight.
The faerie stepped out from the cage
Whispering, "Can it be?
After all these long days and nights
Am I now truly free?"
"Maybe for now," the lock replied,
"But Jennumara will find you.
You're weak and without magic
And will soon be bound anew."
Tavi asked, "Can your wings be healed?"
Baelia answered, "Some claim
That such a thing is possible
If one earns a new name."
"Then let's be off!" said Tavi.
She had a new quest now
To gain for Baelia new wings,
Though she wasn't quite sure how.
The two set off down the mountain
Travelling to far-off lands.
None know for sure where they are now
So here this story ends.
Cheat!'s 'Rising Star'
Her Cheat! round has almost begun,
She flips her shining, shampooed hair.
Capara's ready to win the game
With her poker face and stunning flair.
It's her lead, her time to shine,
A win (her first) so long delayed,
To show skills and beauty combined
And dominate with cards well-played.
She glances at the hand she's dealt,
And her first mistake's at the start.
She organises her cards by numbers born
At a table where eyes always dart.
She picks four random cards to play
And puts them down as aces,
But 00 Hog calls her bluff right then,
Because she picked them from different places.
The game just goes downhill from there,
She fails a bluff again.
Mistake number two: you can't show indecision,
But Capara does, right to the end.
She's almost out of cards, she knows,
But that Jetsam's almost done without a doubt,
So she plays down all she has at once --
Three strikes in Cheat!, you're out.
Once more, Spectre wins it all,
For Capara's bluff, he made the call.
But really, though, of all the things
Why did the Kyrii try 'five kings'?
I gave my Kyrii apples,
What a fuss I got!
And that began my troubles,
What a mess I wrought!
I found some at the market,
Nice and round and red.
Polished like an agate,
And bigger than my head!
I brought it to my Kyrii
Who sat beside the mirror,
Blotching makeup waxy,
And combing hair of silver.
I took it with a flourish
And showed it to her face.
Shinier than varnish
And curved like a vase.
At first she turned green
And stuck out her tongue.
She seemed very keen
To have the apple flung!
My Kyrii gagged a lot
And pointed with offence:
"Take that thing you got,
Throw it past the fence!"
I did promptly as was told,
The apple was discarded.
Thanks to allergies, behold,
A fruit so widely hated!
The Island Mystic
The Island Mystic, there in his hut,
is always said to be crazy by some, but...
he lives on that Island of Mystery
forever a part of history.
He's one of the Kyrii, a Kyrii quite wise,
his getup authentic, not a disguise,
for he is the mystic, whose fortunes come true...
and he can see the future for you.
Some predictions are good, and others not fun,
yet he has the knowledge of things not yet done.
He speaks of the future, the future unfurled,
of all the Neopians around the world.
Neopians visit; it's quite like a game,
but there's a small reason for most of his fame...
He gives it out rarely, the famous av...
the little picture of him that many don't have.
So Neopians flock there, day after day,
waiting for the precious phrases he'll say.
I'll admit some things he says are quite silly,
like suddenly changing your name to Billy...
But your time with him is time well spent,
you just have to figure out what he meant.
Don't say it's pointless or that nobody cares,
because he shouldn't be judged by what he wears.
This Kyrii at the Island of Mystery
is forever a part of history,
giving out fortunes in his humble hut,
he's not crazy. Anything but.
On a dense, jungle-filled, mysterious isle,
The mystic has been predicting for quite a while.
His magical aura softly ebbs and flows,
As he sits on the floor in quiet repose.
Brown eyes glint and ornaments gleam,
As he stares at customers in a trance-like dream.
Pets crowd, hoping to hear of their fate,
Wishing that he tells them their day will be great.
As he mumbles off phrases like Uni Meadows,
And whispers cautiously of some angry Techos,
The patrons ponder their fortunes with uncertainty,
As they're warned about psychotic Lennies.
But his fortunes are a hit because of the suspense,
The cryptic clues and the wafting incense.
The captivating Kyrii gathers quite a crowd,
That hopes for the future to be spoken aloud.
The Kyrii will sit and wait to see,
What might happen today to you and me.
Find out your fortune! But do you dare?
Who knows what might be in store -- beware!
The Altador Cup Coordinating Committee's
Prize Shop Subcommittee Chairman
(Of course you can call him ACCCPSSC)
Was not always the powerful figure you now see.
This Kyrii, once known only as "Pinky,"
Was first hired by the AC Coordinating Committee's
Human Resources Subcommittee, Eastern Division.
Hired as a mail clerk, diligently the Kyrii worked,
As focussed and as driven as any Yooyuball player.
He climbed the ranks of the petty servants who
Toil behind the scenes, unnamed and unseen,
The workers who keep the Altador Cup running,
Running as smoothly as a well-thrown Yooyuball.
From clerk to intern to manager to chairman
The ACCCPSSC rose like an elite athlete,
Like a Yooyuball player from amateur to pro
Did the Kyrii advance through the bureaucracy,
Cutting through the red tape until now;
Now the dispenser of tape, sticking his inferiors,
The clerks, the interns, the low-level managers,
Until, once a year, he opens wide the doors to
The Altador Cup Prize Shop, and in his position,
That of the Subcommittee Chairman,
May he stand aloof with his tablet and his quill
Calculating prize points, awarding the prizes,
To those same athletes, the Yooyuball elite,
Who, through all the rest of the drawn-out year
Are oblivious to the ACCCPSSC and the others
Who toil behind the scenes, unnamed and unseen,
The clerks, the interns, the et ceteras.
Now may he stand, tablet and quill in hand,
And with eyes narrowed in imperious judgment
The ACCCPSSC refers to his numbers and awards
The spoils, of which he, alone, is guardian.
And Who Is This?
Now the suit does really
look the part: with ears so tapered
and coat so vivid,
three-fingered paws and
and her mane, the mane that
boasts of its
place in a Kyrii's heart --
a river of cyan,
and motion water-like
stirs each lock.
But you mustn't
tell me that no Kyrii, they who
take joy in impression,
would ever have such eyes,
eyes that scintillate
a smirk and a
bright-red ill intent.
Let pass the
checkered yellow, the
And you mustn't
tell me of the teeth, those
mirror shards of
split-second from her
We'll share our cake,
for she only dressed up
for a slice; and
it's a fair price, sir, an
exchange generous for what
would be nightmares
should we refuse.
She was a savage of the seas,
They called her Caily the Pirate Kyrii.
"I'm the meanest pet around,
There's a reason you should fear me!"
She patrolled the coast of Neopia,
On a boat she proudly called home.
She believed she could trust no one,
That's why she sailed alone.
Luckily, there was nothing to fear,
If you met her by Random Event.
"Before we start this plunder,
You have to give me consent!"
Fortunately for pets of the sea,
Her tactics were way too simplistic.
Her war cries weren't even original,
Spewing lines from the Island Mystic.
She loved to hoard sunken treasures,
Her most valued was a green sword.
"This cutlass might be mouldy,
But it's all I could carry aboard."
One day she came across another pirate,
Her social skills were left uncharted.
"No blood runs through these veins,
Go ahead and call me cold-hearted!"
The pirate loaded up his cannon,
Her boat couldn't withstand much harm.
A bright blue ball fired through the air,
A Snow Mote landed right her arms.
She looked the Mote in the eyes,
Suddenly she changed her mentality.
This stranger gave her the perfect loot,
She smiled showcasing her new personality.
No longer was she a barbarian,
This Kyrii had tamed her emotions,
Now she sails spreading good fortune,
A pirate still loyal to the ocean.
The Island Mystic
"You will fight off scores of evil Aishas."
Today's piece of 'advice'
Is no more helpful
Than the last ten days' combined.
The mystic objects, for you see
He 'knows all of Neopia's secrets'
And he thinks he is knowledgeable
In all fields one can be knowledgeable in.
In the past some have argued that
Putting a bone through his nose
Drove the mystic to craziness
And made him the way he is.
I argue in another direction,
For obviously he is really crazy,
Because all he ever wears
Is something akin to a diaper.
The truth is, no one really cares
What the old Island Mystic says,
Unless it includes something helpful
About a Kyrii, or Kyrii plural.
Better Than You?
That wide, wide smile,
Those gleaming teeth,
Yet is he really worthwhile,
That Kyrii underneath?
Could he actually be 'Better Than You'?
Oh, how you wish you were like that too!
That shining hair,
With unnatural bounce,
Is it really the sign of someone with flair?
Or should we his status renounce?
Could he actually be 'Better Than You'?
If he was... then what would you do?
Those sparkling clothes,
That lurid pink jacket,
Do you truly and really suppose
It decides the whole packet?
Could he actually be 'Better Than You'?
Or is he simply too good to be true?
Well, these questions have plagued his career,
(An illustrious career indeed),
But whether you boo or cheer,
One thing you must concede:
If there ever was a Kyrii who had it all,
'Tis the BTY host, with his game-show drawl.
Jacques the Swift
One step behind his daring friend,
One step behind the thrill,
Jacques keeps up the lookout,
While Garin climbs the hill.
A slip, a trip, a misplaced step,
Soon Garin shouts for aid,
Jacques is left to save his friend,
His loyalty displayed.
Though Jacques is ever faithful,
As time leads them to their fate,
Garin's the Pawkeet's captain,
While Jacques is the first mate.
Then on that destined day,
When Scarblade attacked their fleet,
Both friends fought for their comrades,
And for the Black Pawkeet.
Jacques had to help his friend to fight,
And to keep the foes at bay,
Eventually he chose escape,
And to fight another day.
But Garin was impassioned,
Amid the heat of war,
He wouldn't flee his vessel,
And Jacques's pleas he would ignore.
But this time things were different,
Jacques could not be there to help,
The dastardly sea-witches,
Dragged him down to the murky kelp.
And so Garin soon fell overboard,
This time into Isca's hands,
She showed him the sea's wonders
And the great city amid the sands.
When Garin came back to the shore,
His world seemed incomplete,
Where was his trusty sidekick,
Who helped lead the Black Pawkeet?
This time he was the rescuer,
So he followed all the tracks,
But as the setting sun dipped down,
He missed his best friend Jacques.
Total Poetry Pages : 1876
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