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KRAWK DAY SPECIAL
A Celebration for Krawks!
It's Krawk Day in Neopia,
And all the Krawks are about:
Faerie Krawks with their pretty smiles;
Grey Krawks with their faces in a pout.
Halloween Krawks nibble on cake,
While impressing all with their attire;
Royal Krawks sip on tea, look haughty,
And insist that everyone call them "Sire."
Darigan Krawks hiss and snarl and snap,
While their cloud counterparts daydream,
The Maraquan Krawks lounge about lazily;
While the ice Krawks munch on tasty ice cream.
Robot Krawks creak around impressively,
While zombie Krawks give anyone a scare,
The plushies greet all with cheerful smiles;
The mutant Krawks greet partygoers with a glare.
And in all the joyous Krawk festivities,
We must not overlook anyone,
For the blue, yellow, red, and green Krawks
Are just as pretty and just as fun!
Behold GitchiManitou, fearsome Krawk,
With luminous skin and blackened heart.
This phantom battles the incongruity
Of his nature's base dichotomy.
Born long ago in Fungus Caves
And raised by pirates on the waves,
His innocence they did fully corrupt
With allegiance sworn to foul Bloodhook.
Soon the favourite of the Captain's hands,
The Krawk's jealous shipmates hatched a plan.
After false accusations of mutiny,
GitchiManitou was committed to the sea.
The betrayal stung more than the briny spray,
And the Krawk submitted to the waves.
Anon thoughts of revenge cleared his stupor
And spread like a virus through his core.
Cell to cell, dark thoughts reached and blackened
His heart and mind, everything within;
Though he floated from the sea as a glowing ghost,
His soul was weighted down with a jet-black stone.
GitchiManitou long wandered, but eventually
Was saved by the love of a new family.
Training and battling now on the side of right,
Taming his own dissonance is a daily fight.
Maraquan Sergeant's Spear
war, memory of it
stirs his blood; serving
King Kelpbeard, the pirates
at the gates, Maractite armour
with its glowing glyphs shining
the words courage, luck, strength;
he fought also at the distant surface-
world, swimming to the blue wave-broken
skies -- longing, then, to make an ocean
of the air. But now war is long over, the
army disbanded, and he has returned to his
leagues-deep home -- this black lapse where
he now lives, so deep in the sea swell
that he has
The Krawk -- Spring's Mortal Enemy
Oddly enough, a Krawk hates its day;
Krawk Day lands in the dead of spring.
Have you ever seen a Krawk pick a flower,
Paint a Negg, or even try to sing?
Have you ever seen a Krawk out in the sun,
Admiring nature, seeing the sights?
Nomming on candy, wearing a frilly dress,
Dancing away the warm spring nights?
Krawks are tough, sinewy, and mean;
They despise this pastel season.
If they even try to pick up a Negg,
It just breaks in their claws without reason.
No Negg Festival for a Krawk,
The singing, the dancing, the fun,
The spending all day searching for Neggs
In the nice springtime sun.
The flowers bloom and cause them distress,
The Krawk's allergies are second to none.
Their chocolate tolerance is also low,
One little bon bon and they're done.
The Krawks petitioned to move their holiday,
But it fell on deaf ears.
So go hug your Krawk in this special season,
I hope being bit isn't in your fears!
From the Magma...
From the fire, from the heat,
Where flame doth scorch the ground.
Beyond volcano, far below,
Where smoke does billow 'round.
Born of flames and fire-formed,
The creature does emerge.
Flickering through onyx form,
A lava flow does surge.
From the molten, from the glow,
With scales, burning bright.
Gaze, twin orbs of fire-hue,
That blaze, unearthly light.
Some say that Krawks are water-bound,
Sleek creatures of the sea.
This one dwells where fire burns,
In lava shall he be.
From the hiss and from the steam,
Strange tufts of mane do churn.
Tousled by a heated breeze,
Like fire does it burn.
Magma Krawk beneath the ground,
Where wind won't harm his blaze.
He sneaks through passages alight,
Emerged from smoky haze.
From the flames and from the ash,
He slinks volcano's base.
Warmed by what dwells in the heat,
For flames, he will embrace.
He'll relish magma as it burns,
And lava through its flow.
For he too is formed from the blaze,
That burned aeons ago.
Majestic and imperial, he struts around,
An air of grace, swishing cloak the only sound,
Confidence exceeds him, his beauty he knows,
The staff embedded with diamonds, crystals, pearls.
His favourite item is the mirror he holds,
Admiring his complexion, the colour of gold.
Gentle breeze sweeping elegantly through his hair;
Neopets watch in awe, looking at royalty they stare.
The royal Krawk, his nobility is known,
As he walks to his kingdom and sits on his throne.
Smiling a smile which tells of deep knowing,
With big brown eyes, secretive and flowing.
On high being lofty, pompous, and grand,
Above everyone else, this Neopet does stand.
Keeping an eye on all his faithful subjects,
Built on their trust and earning their respect.
A Krawk Transmogrification
And your feathers fall,
Spyder-silk lightning graphs
Of a keening future;
How so, to open an eye
And find three, so then, beg,
In a bid for poetic mercy,
To the bitter jealous owner
Who fled in glittering glass;
To be isolation drowned,
Left in horrified pity
A floundering halfling,
Scorned by the broken beaker
That spills its potion upon the floor
And by the yawning chasm
Symbolising everlasting greed;
Hope, a fiendish creature,
Plays the guitar strings;
Strays not in one's bones,
But flails in the leaks and drips
Of a distorted reflection;
Mental agony, as anguish,
To be expressed is ignored
By the ever-consuming need
And the rising price of fame.
Dasher Soley, the King of Procrastination
Sometimes you have to wonder
whether he really means it
when he says that he's going to retire.
Year after year it's the same
ol' story that good ol' Dash
is going to quit the tourney.
But he never does,
and we don't take him seriously,
because we know he'll be back
for another year of Yooyuball.
In Altador Cup V he
gave us a scare
as he very nearly left us!
But he came back by
chance or fate when his
replacement got an injury.
"Dasher" Soley won't ever retire,
he's the figurehead of Team Krawk Island!
But if he does he will be missed
because he doesn't suit retirement.
So what will he do when he's away?
Will he just sit at home and
count his Dubloons?
Surely not! He'll be on the seas
hunting treasure and pillaging
local villages. Maybe.
Despite his age, that's not stopped him
from becoming the most-loved
and most feared Yooyuballer.
Even players on other teams say he's got it all!
So what now, Dasher, will you be back
next year? Or will you finally throw in the towel?
You can't hang up your sling just yet, matey,
because there's a place for you on the wall.
Either way, if you do retire, your legacy will live on,
But we still hope that retirement is a running joke,
For Yooyuball won't be the same when you're gone.
Good Krawk Day to a Much Loved Krawk
Good Krawk Day to a much loved Krawk!
But are there any much loved Krawks?
Grimtooth is a swarthy lout
Whose proficiency at dice
Leaves his honesty in doubt
When he refuses to play nice.
And, oh, Dorak is quite the thief,
Snatching up Dubloons far and wide
From K.I. shore to Mara reef
As he rows along the rip-tide.
Dlouro seemed an honest type
When he offered Rolan his aid,
But we saw quickly through the hype
As he proceeded with his raid.
Ack! Are there any honest Krawks?
Oh, aha! There's Dasher Soley,
Vaunted hero of the AC,
Despised by the Shenkuu goalie,
But the crowd's most favoured Krawkie!
So! Good Krawk Day, Dasher Soley,
Good Krawk Day to a much loved Krawk!
Dubloon Disaster Krawk
With a sneer and with a laugh,
I launch myself away.
The water ripples as I row,
The silly mine explodes.
They think they can catch me!
Those robots from my enemies.
But never will they see their gold again,
that I'll make sure of!
My fevered gaze will stay within the thrall of gold,
My cunning eyes will catch no other sparkle.
My wicked teeth grin and water churns and froths.
They're coming after me. More and more of them!
But they won't catch me, no, they won't,
for gold is my priority.
With waters infested with those mines,
I'll row my way just closer,
To that hundred Dubloon coin...
shimmering beneath the waves.
Who do they think they are?!
Driving wedges between gold and me.
How dare they try to stop the love I have for gold?
Sure, the gold may be theirs,
But they don't value it the way I do, the way I do...
Another mine explodes, and smile stretches
Across my face, and I laugh some more.
But then, suddenly, I'm surrounded
And can't move an inch.
And the swarm so close, and I can feel the heat...
of the coming BOOM.
BOOM! and I'm in the water, my treasures sinking,
sparkling one last time, into the dark abyss.
The Legend of the Lost Krawk
A dark passageway to nowhere,
A drifting scent of mould.
A compelling presence in its midst,
In cave so dank and cold.
Hesitant breeze upon the land
Dies upon shadowed ground.
A still air hides the zombie Krawk
Who yearns to be found.
Deep within the Fungus Cave,
He sits on mossy throne.
Beautiful and unique is he,
Yet sad, cold, and alone.
For years he's ruled the Fungus Cave --
But for whom? No one knows.
Forgotten in history --
His tale buried long ago.
He roams the land in stealthy grace,
His legend lost in time.
Far from the touch of sun or moon,
Beyond the twisted vines.
His legend forgotten by all,
His fate, so bleak, alone.
Uprooted by seeds of time,
And still trapped in morbid stone.
Grimtooth, Krawk of Bilge Dice!
He has wicked yellow eyes and grin made to terrify,
They glower and glare with a single stare.
Teeth sharp as razors and a long whipping tail
Is enough to make any Neopian frightened and pale.
He wears a spotted bandana cap on his bald head
To shield it from the fearsome weather out at sea,
And a striped white shirt to tell all Neopia
He was a pirate. You'd think we had no idea!
One of the three guardians of Bilge Dice,
One of the three opponents you must face.
But cunning is his middle name.
Behold the draw of the addictive game.
"Up the ante, up, up, up!"
You would hear him yell from afar.
"Don't be a flower, ye, all right?
Or else get yerself gone from my sight!"
It is known that his bite's worse than his bark;
Many a Neopian would assure you so.
Be careful you do not insult his ego,
Though his skills at the game are questionable.
A costly golden hook in the place of a hand;
A mind swirling at two hundred miles an hour.
Oh dear, this is a devious one,
Beware even after you have won.
When he's not out gambling with his mates,
Monty and Deadeye,
There's no doubt he's counting his money
Below the deck even when the weather's sunny.
And who else can this crude fellow be?
None other than the infamous Krawk
Who goes by the name of
words that take flight on silent wings,
flitting about joyously.
Ephemeral -- fleeting --
a quick wisp of smoke from a flare.
What would you pay
for them to be everlasting?
Mr. Krawley doth have the thing for you.
A sloshing green elixir
captivates your attention
as it bubbles.
"This is a dream caught in a bottle," says he,
as he passes it to you.
"Imbibe your dreams,
your most fantastic desires."
Slowly did their desires consume them,
eating away at their actual image.
Only the young,
absent of such wishes,
Calling forth the Great Spirit,
they became static in peaceful transparent slumber.
becoming unsnarling dreams
-- shadows --
accursed for what they thought would be forever.
Covet the Cove
Just another holiday,
My hopes are falling down,
Falling down like the rain,
To douse this fire I have found.
I've been taken by the undertow,
Pulled by the current to
A place I don't know
Where the sun has shown me something new.
The light had blinded me,
Taken me off my path.
Now that it is Krawk Day,
I've lost my mind, I'm bound to crack;
Crack away this doubt I have,
This doubt I have inside.
As a new day draws more near,
I'll make sure my Krawk arrives.
Underneath the smuggler sun,
Scorned by my passion,
Underneath the smuggler sun,
It once had me misguided,
But I've learned, I've learned to find it.
I found my way to Smugglers Cove.
I Wish I Was a Krawk
I wish I was a Krawk.
I would stand so tall,
I would be so very proud.
My teeth would be so sharp,
I might even be able to roar!
I wish I was a Krawk.
I would munch on fungus all day,
I would smile such a dashing grin.
I would be so handsome and charming,
Who wouldn't want to invite me in?
I wish I was a Krawk.
I would always be envied,
How you wish you looked like me!
My tail is perfect, my face is perfect,
I am so stunning, the best you'll ever see.
I wish I was a Krawk.
It's hard to maintain such an amazing look,
It's actually quite extreme.
I didn't realise it would take so much work,
I never knew I needed such a beauty regime.
I'm glad I'm not a Krawk.
I think I'll stay like this,
Just for a little while.
Maybe someday I'll be a Krawk,
Until then, this will be my smile.
Happy Krawk Day!
Ben the Krawk was different,
From birth this point was made.
While other Krawks had learned to swim,
Young Ben was too afraid!
He didn't like to wet his scales,
They took too long to dry!
Every day his mother begged,
But Ben would only cry.
He watched his sisters splash about,
Content upon the banks,
Collecting rocks and pretty shells,
Safe from sisters' pranks.
It looked like fun, he did admit,
But risk was far too great.
Too easy would it be to slip
And become fishing bait.
Then one day whilst picking shells,
Ben lost track of sea and clock.
He bent too far for that last one,
And slipped right off the dock!
He kicked and scream to stay afloat,
Arms flailing all about.
Until his father heard his calls
And quickly fished him out.
"Whatever did you do that for?!"
Ben cried with one big grin.
"I was having so much fun,
I want to go back in!"
Total Poetry Pages : 1984
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