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CHOMBY CARNIVAL SPECIAL
Stone slab upon plateau Tyrannian,
sun-warmed and smooth
as mottled fresh parchment
that no one has yet slashed ink upon;
What better stone to
snooze this laziest of lazy afternoons
away, to tuck one's
giant feet beneath drooping neck
and, while dreaming of
berries and deep green leaves, keep
one creased eye open
to mark the
life of the plains.
Her gently spiked tail wrapped and an
inch from her nose,
a Chomby curled as
one who knows her place
and is in it.
The Sound of Chombies
DADUMP, DADUMP, sound of Chomby
Walking stiffly -- this one's zombie.
DADUMP, DADUMP, a pink walks past,
Her stomping leaves some pets aghast.
DADUMP, DADUMP, the Chombies stomp;
Babies loudly run and romp.
DADUMP, DADUMP, yes, they're plump,
And I admit they've got some rump.
DADUMP, DADUMP, but Chombies know,
As all surge forth, both fast and slow,
DADUMP, DADUMP, they may be large
And formidably do charge
DADUMP, DADUMP, but for their size
In heart, Chombies take first prize.
DADUMP, DADUMP, they sound real loud,
But they've got reason to be proud.
DADUMP, DADUMP, the crowds rush in,
Chombies wait with cheery grin.
DADUMP, DADUMP, the crowds rush out;
To Chombies many are devout.
The Carnival Comes to Town!
All through Neopia, heads look round,
As they hear a steady thumping sound,
Romp! Stomp! Romp! Stomp!
A line of pets to the Central bound!
Starry, checkered, baby, brown,
The Chombies make their slow way down,
And the realisation rolls around;
The Chomby Carnival's come to town!
Stomping over ground and grass,
Sand and water, clear as glass.
The group, it grows, and soon enough,
More pets are joining as they pass.
A giddy group they have become,
Chombies, Aishas, Lupes, then some.
And still they march their steady beat,
So well confused with a pounding drum.
The Chombies then retake the lead,
And quickly, boldly, pick up speed.
With haste, the group begins to run,
They're nearly reached the place they need!
Burst through the gates, a shout of joy,
And more abound; "We're here! Oh, boy!"
The celebrations soon begin,
Fireworks and sweets ahoy!
Long after nightfall the Chombies stay,
Even when the others have gone away.
And together, they call into the sky,
"Thank you for a wonderful Chomby Day!"
Journey of a Maraquan Chomby
In waters running deep,
Chomby graces through.
Darting past the twisting weeds,
In silent lakes of blue.
Fleeting glimpse of silky green,
Of purple velvet fins.
Chomby sings a lilting song,
Of life and hopes and dreams.
Were she to brave the stormy nights,
And seek the sea beyond,
Far from what she called her home,
Far from where she was born.
To idyllic oceans far away,
A new life for her awaits.
The choice now is in her hands,
She will choose her own fate.
Beyond her lake of paradise,
She travels out to sea
To the home of Maraquans,
Where she can be carefree.
And now she smiles her beautiful smile;
She knows that she belongs,
And in the light of setting sun,
She sings her lilting song.
For Ruthann the Baby Chomby
Dappled in tender greens and yellows,
Like the nascent buds, the shoots of spring,
Ruthann, the new little baby Chomby,
Is the greatest gift this season brings.
Stretching out her lanky neck,
She tips her face toward the sky.
Feeling the warmth of the sun's brilliance,
Ruthann blinks and opens emerald eyes.
Oh, would that I could share that innocence,
To see the world afresh, anew,
To delight in the rocks and bluffs and mesas
That overwhelm my own Tyrannian view.
Stumbling, she tries to stomp,
Yet trips up on her new legs four.
She squeaks and squalls, screeches and squawks,
When she tries to loose a Chomby roar.
Persistent, she takes her first steps,
But quickly twists and turns around,
Discovering that what seems to hold her back
Is her own tail trailing on the ground.
Promise me, Ruthann, wee Chomby,
That you'll keep your wonder, not submit to fears,
That you'll take risks, want to stretch your neck,
And know if you need me, I am here.
End of the Chomby Reign
He was a warrior of the finest kind,
Though old, he was a brilliant mind.
In his prime he struck fear in the hearts of many,
With courage and skill so rare and uncanny.
His senses were deadly acute,
Backed by the force of a brute,
Pinpointed with a fearsome power,
Thus began the warring hour.
Years have passed since those magnificent days.
Neopia has reinvented and changed its ways.
A new future arose.
The enemy line was standing strong,
Afore him they could do no wrong.
The field echoed with the sound of stamping feet.
Both sides refusing to admit defeat.
He was once great, a fighter of many abilities,
But now he was so old his bones painfully creak.
The Chomby reign looked toward inevitable doom,
The air was heavy with a darkening loom.
An empire so grand that once stood,
Rich in Borovan, wealth, and food,
Now faced the inevitable: destruction and decline,
It no longer mattered who was next in line.
All hope had been placed on him,
The mighty soldier, the golden one.
The northern light is now low and dim.
The glory that once was is gone and done.
A flash of green
In the shadowed night.
She stirs, awake.
The Shadow Chomby.
Line her back
Tracing the dark
Dripping down the tail.
The colour of night,
She wakes in the moment
Of restful sleep.
When the wind blows softly
As the sky darkens
To deep purple.
In the dark of night
Emerald eyes gleam,
Watchful and waiting.
Veiled in black,
Merging with the dark.
In the night
All is quiet.
Grey clouds line the sky
Glowing with black.
And in the grass
Blending with the night,
The moon shines
Gems that see and glow.
Eyes of the shadow Chomby.
The night is dry,
The taste of dusk;
One slight moment before
The shadow Chomby stirs.
Chomby don't chomp the crumbly crisps,
And Chomby don't chew the chrysanthemum pits,
Oh, Chomby, why must you chew, chaos commits,
Cleaning this up, chomp any more? Fyora forbid!
Chomby don't chomp the chewy chumps,
And Chomby don't chew on the crusty clumps,
Oh, Chomby, why must you char, chew, and chow,
Chomby, don't you continue your prowl!
Chomby don't chomp the cherished churros,
And continue away from the chewed bureaus,
Chomby, why must you crunch crisps and chews,
It upsets me so, oh no, not the chips too!
Chomby don't chomp, I've had enough,
Chomping and chewing and chowing must stop,
Away from here now, until you can learn,
Chewing? No, no, wait your turn!
Oh, how mysterious
a shy little Chomby can be.
I saw first my one in Tyrannia,
munching on a tree.
She had leaves in her mouth,
smiling so bright.
She sat there for hours,
it seemed like all day and night.
As I watched her eat,
I tripped upon a stick.
She abruptly looked at me
and tried to disappear quick.
Seeming so shy,
she ran away from me.
I followed her all the way,
as curious as I could be.
I threw her a leaf
to show her that I was nice.
She quickly snatched the leaf,
never thinking twice.
Although she never approached,
she smiled as she walked away.
I won her over with a bit of foliage,
what a wonderful day!
When Chombies Rock and/or Roll
A very rocking holiday,
No other can compare.
These quadrupeds like to jam out,
It's their favourite music fair.
Chombies are known for their musical taste,
Their rock, their roll, their disco beat.
Their banging heads, their swinging necks,
They are the musically inclined elites.
Their concerts rage deep into the night,
A music fest held on Chomby Day.
Stay 'til the dawn has finally risen;
Singing all night is just the Chomby way!
At the forefront of this revolution,
Chomby and the Fungus Balls sings out.
This band's been chosen by the best,
There's never been a doubt.
Chomby and the Fungus Balls is king,
They rock out the Stone Concert Hall.
The tickets are steep but worth the price,
Just take the all Chombies' advice!
The band has the most dedicated fans;
Other Chombies come from miles around.
It doesn't matter whether stage or pit,
With long necks, they always hear the sound.
If you're looking for a new jam,
Don't forget to ask the Chomby nearest.
They'll tell you rock, roll or punk,
But Chomby and the Fungus Balls is the dearest.
The Story of the Mad Count
Stories whisper in my ears,
Of a count within the Haunted Wood,
The home of troubles, cares, and fears,
Absent of things all bright and good.
This Chomby count, fierce as fire,
Had not one but three sharp eyes!
A cloak of blacken'd thoughts so dire,
That hearts are cowed by its wind-borne cries.
But wait, good friends, there is more yet!
I speak of a mask upon his head!
Bleached white to make time forget,
And jewelled with eyes bloodshot and red.
They say his evil claimed his mind,
And his crazed howls now whirl like storms.
Of a past he left far behind,
Of hidden secrets, faces, forms.
It's just a story, ease your fears.
Calm your bones, be at peace.
Or perhaps it is as real as tears,
Just don't wander the Woods at night...
Greta the Grooveless Chomby
All Chombies are made to groove,
Of this I'm sure you're told.
But I was born quite grooveless,
From when I was just hours old.
I cannot tap a rhythm,
Or walk in time with a beat.
Dancing is near impossible,
When born with two left feet.
My mother was quite the singer;
She tried to teach me well.
Not tune nor pitch could I replicate,
And her confidence soon fell.
I thought my talent, perhaps,
Might need a tool to boost.
An instrument like harp or drum,
'Twas my time to rule the roost!
Alas, my glory was short-lived,
No instrument for me.
Oh, but I tried and tried some more,
I tested twenty-three!
But do not cry or mope for me,
Because I do not feel blue.
For when Chomby Carnival comes to town,
I get to watch with you!
Chomby of Maraquan Waters
Deep where creatures seldom go,
Endless, the briny blue.
A universe of coral tones,
Rich seaweed gardens, too.
Playful motion, bubbles dance,
Lazy the swipe of fin.
Under where the sunlight skims,
True life there doth begin.
A thriving world of aqua blue,
Realm dwells in deepest sea.
Chomby there does find her way,
Home safe, secure, free.
Tendrils of the seaweed plant,
Each elegant, does sway.
Lingering near ocean's depths,
Lest tide drag them away.
Keep silent here, for nothing sounds,
A world without a voice.
This is what she seeks, it's true,
Not chaos, it's her choice.
Icy do the waters grow,
Should deeper creatures swim.
Safe within her haven quiet,
Trails sunlight, ever dim.
Overhead the surface looms,
So distant, far away.
The Chomby doesn't think of this,
Or needs to, anyway.
Perfect, content, down below,
Riding the endless tide.
A world above not her concern,
In ocean's depths, she'll hide.
Deep where coral grows so bright,
In rainbow spectrum's sheen.
No two tones match, but with such grace,
Glitters the tranquil scene.
Merrily the Chomby moves,
Yields to current's flow.
Here she picks up coral boughs,
And bouquets bright do grow!
Bit by bit she doth collect,
It forms a rainbow bright.
Teal and orange, pink and green,
All glow with aqua light.
Rich the underwater world!
In ocean's depths, she'll dream.
Under where the sun's touch drifts,
More thrives than what may seem.
The Chomby Carnival
Let's watch the Merry-Go-Round spin,
And little Neopets darting to and fro.
Party blowers are blowing in the air;
The Chomby Carnival is finally here!
Grab some popcorn and watch the parade,
As the mighty beasts march to the beat.
Cheer from the sides and throw confetti;
Grab an iced lemonade to cool the heat.
Head on down the path to the fiery ones;
They have fire burning on their backs.
Looking for something a bit more normal?
Go see the ones munching on grass.
Chombies are naturally timid and shy,
So don't be surprised if one backs away.
Just hold out some leaves and smile;
One will be sure to come your way.
Be very careful and don't get squashed --
A Chomby carries a lot of weight.
One stomp of their feet can flatten you,
But this is what they will call fate.
Get your groove on and dance to the music;
Chomby and the Fungus Balls are here.
Be entranced by their infectious sound;
Scream out loud if you really do care.
There is one Chomby that we don't want:
The Giant Hungry Malevolent Chomby!
Let's thank Fyora that he won't be there;
Otherwise we're in for a game of rugby.
On this day forget about your worries,
Grab a friend and meet a Chomby or two.
Join the carnival and have some fun,
And if you want to stay a little longer...
Loryche, Tyrannian Yooyuball Captain
The sole Chomby upon the field,
You can't miss ol' Loryche,
To see Tyrannia finally place
is her sole sincere wish.
A veteran of the Altador Cup,
she blushes to recall,
the days when she used to slack off
and not give it her all.
'Why try so hard?' she used to think,
'To just lose anyway?'
This attitude kept up until
that single fateful day.
The then-Tyrannian captain thought
to try out something new,
Three days at centre forward found
Loryche a new point of view.
Even if they failed to place,
As long as they tried their best,
Yooyuball would always be a blast
and practice would handle the rest.
And so she persevered until
she stepped up to the leader's plate,
For that was where her talent was
Shown to be really great.
Loryche has captained Tyrannia
faithfully till today,
So on this day of Chomby fun
'Cheers to her,' we all say!
Total Poetry Pages : 1960
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