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FLOTSAM DAY SPECIAL
The Flotsam and the Blue
The blue is vast, clear and unbroken,
From horizon here to horizon there.
A colour, simple, seemingly solid,
A canvas awaiting the artist's flair.
The blue below, still as a sheet of glass,
The depths glimpsed within its sheen,
Now ripples slightly as a distant splash
Disturbs the blue's pacific mien.
The ripples build, one upon the other,
Turbulent water spumes to the sky;
Its erstwhile unity with the reflecting sea
Is a shattered mirror as Flotsam swim by.
The sprays of brine, like shards of glass,
Rise (or is it fall?) into the air.
The Flotsam leap and burst through the median
Of which one's eye was unaware.
Flotsam above and more below,
They caper, arch in playful dive,
Through sky and sea as though the same,
Makes the blue pulse as though alive.
Too soon the Flotsam make their passage;
The last undulation fades, is gone.
The blue once more assumes a likeness,
Uniqueness blurred by seas becalmed.
Ode to the Island Chef
It's time to grab your cash;
It's time to try your best.
The Flotsam Chef has need of you,
So it's time to Kitchen Quest!
Baked Cress and Scallion Sauce or
Stuffed Octopus and Beef Pie,
It's time to fetch ingredients,
Requests the Island Chef with a sigh.
So bring him Cinnamon Honey Sticks,
And bring him Passionberry Pie,
Bring him a Rotten Egg Gobstopper,
But please, don't ask him why.
His dishes are strange and obscure,
And his ingredients are often worse.
Mumbo Pango demands his fine cuisine,
So bring NP and empty out your purse!
The Chef has need of us, oh yes,
And he'll reward us well.
Hopefully we'll earn some stats,
Or maybe things to sell.
But wait, what's this? He's gone too far!
Chef, we'll give you slushies with no doubt.
You can even have purple Neggs, pizzas, more --
But oh no, we won't bring you Snorkle Snout!
The Raider of Old Maraqua
Underneath in the deep blue sea
Lies an old wrecked abandoned city,
Filled with lost and forgotten treasures;
A Flotsam Raider searches for his pleasure.
Old Maraqua was attacked by a mean pirate,
A whirlpool struck with a forceful hit,
Forcing the citizens to relocate;
They left with nothing else to compensate.
Now so many years after the destruction,
Old Maraqua is left with a worthy fortune.
Abandoned items left in the mud and dirt;
This Flotsam Raider searches without hurt.
He scours the floor of the endless ocean,
Wiping away dirt in a speedy motion.
He trains his eye for any glimmer of gold;
He dreams of a treasure he could actually hold.
He stops; his senses on full alert.
He feels a presence somewhere near the dirt.
His eyes searching, his fin holding his spear;
He's ready for anyone who might come near.
Just then an orphaned Peophin swims past,
He continues searching for anything with mass.
He sees a glint in the corner of his eye;
He rushes towards it, wary of anyone to swim by.
He digs a little, then he digs a lot;
Carefully he removes the item in case it's rot.
It's as good as new, a bluish chest --
He opens it with the strength he has left.
The chest is open and he begins to sing,
For inside is a beautiful golden ring!
Welcome to my kitchen!
I am indeed the chef!
Grab a spatula
And I'll put you to the test!
Come, do not burn yourself!
Watch the blazing fire!
You must become a chef
That all Neopians can admire!
Gather round and watch me --
I am the professional chef!
Watch how the food becomes art,
And through it I can express.
The salt belies my sadness,
Bitter tears to taste.
Be careful not to spill the soup!
Watch for the meat you must baste!
Remember not to touch my hat;
Don't set my hat askew.
As punishment I'll send you to Sophie
To help her with her stew!
I will send you on a quest;
There are ingredients I desire.
Hurry, hurry, come now!
Be a chef all Neopians admire!
Faster, much faster!
Time is running very short!
If you don't come back soon,
This quest you'll be forced to abort!
I must make this meal,
So come once more to me.
And I shall kindly reward you;
I know your services aren't free.
So if you want to learn
From the very best Flotsam chef,
Come to Mystery Island
And partake in a Kitchen Quest!
Of Lors Benneveldt, Flotsam Goalie
His full name may be a mouthful
And saying it a chore,
but no Flotsam's quite as cool
as Mystery Island's Lor.
Though he may not possess feet,
it's no hindrance at all.
His tail can crouch, his tail can sit
and keep him standing tall.
His fins are what take centre stage,
all large and wide and strong
and capable as they engage
in stopping quite the throng
of Yooyuballs hurled down Lor's way,
in hopes of a quick goal.
But the fins keep those points at bay
as Lor efficiently plays his role.
His game may be unsteady
at times, but MIers agree,
that when Benneveldt is ready,
he's the best -- it's no mystery!
There's No Pleasing Plesio
Oh, what's today? Flotsam Day?
I swear I care. No really, it's true.
I'm sure it's a wonderful and fun-filled day,
Oh, whatever would I even do?
Would I swim with my friends?
Oh wait, I don't have any.
Would I dance away the night?
Dance skills? I don't have many.
Would I party until dawn?
I don't stay up that late.
Would I leave my great wheel?
Those Neopets can't wait.
Would I eat lots of treats?
Candy makes me sick.
Would I play lots of games?
That would get boring pretty quick.
No, I think I'll stay here at my wheel.
Mediocrity seems to suit me best.
Not too exciting, not too dull.
I do Mediocrity better then the rest.
You guys go ahead, have a great Flotsam Day,
I'm sure I'll be cheering you on.
Or maybe I won't, but you'll never tell,
With my bored look and patented yawn.
Dive of the Zombie Flotsam
The water here, so cold and still,
No ripples break the sheen.
I search and search with frenzied gaze,
But no motion is seen.
Unearthly is the ocean here,
The waves are black and stark.
Unsure I want to see a thing,
A creature breaks the dark.
Forth from shadowed waters, rise,
Form arches, waves do break.
I wonder now as I look on,
Was coming a mistake?
Something eerie, something strange,
Does dwell in briny deep.
This kind of beast that haunts your mind
And keeps you from your sleep.
Alabaster, sickly gaze,
Doth scan the pallid shore.
Tattered are the flowing rags,
Left on from days of yore.
No other Flotsam could create
Such eerie, blatant dread.
But this is what you're bound to see
When viewing the undead.
A Great Big Sea
(but I never meant to:
please believe me,
I just did not understand
how very huge the sea can be)
I think I see you
in the ripple of far-away waves,
just the outline of your fin,
and I cry out, Hello!
can you hear me!
you never answer.
you were my friend
and you trusted me:
I was the land,
you were the sea,
a frightened little Flotsam
coming in on the tide,
marooned on the beach
like a boat on its side.
(I was never prepared
for that lonely day;
it's just so easy
for things to slip away --
one day life was all it could be,
next you were swallowed by the sea)
I thought I was helping,
maybe that's true.
I hope so because
(but I never forgot you)
As Neopians sit and wait and yawn,
The Flotsam, sleepy, watches on,
The wheel that spins like it's a chore;
Yes, mediocrity's a bore.
By the wheel he lounges, glum.
The boredom surely makes him numb.
Nothing cheerful happens here;
At least it's calm, he thinks -- austere.
Perhaps he dreams of battles old,
As yet another spin is sold,
Of times when he -- a captain great
Fought with army he'd dictate.
But now he's bored and sad and aged;
The war is done: the one he waged
Is over now and now he stays;
Mediocrity's a haze.
In his mind, he'll go back
To think of youth and the attack;
He smiles a bit and then it's gone,
Replaced nothing but a yawn.
A Mediocre Poem
Oh, it's just another day,
Unexceptional, I'd say.
Insignificant, plain, and dull
No reason to cry 'hooray!'
It's not exciting, I guarantee --
This day will be ordinary.
You can visit Tyrannia, but
There will be no sights to see.
You can give the Wheel a spin,
But I know that you won't win.
Maybe you'll gain a fiery burn
Or a Pterodactyl's teeth in your skin.
Why am I bitter? Why do I scoff?
Maybe because Flotsam got today off,
And here I'm stuck, in mediocrity,
Answering you with a sarcastic cough.
So today is just another day to me.
Humdrum, boring, ordinary.
But you're welcome to try your luck --
Spinning the Wheel of Mediocrity.
The Island Chef on Mystery Island
Has a very important job;
It is vital to the Island
And is shown on every kebab.
For a living he cooks,
To make sure the Island lives
Not from hunger,
But from whom the food he gives.
A most unruly customer,
Cranky every five minutes,
Mumbo Pango the great,
Demands his steamed carrots.
Countless cooking creations,
Each one a gourmet masterpiece,
Tastes from every nation.
Quickly gather the ingredients,
Each a precious part of the dish.
Mix them all together,
And you make something delicious.
The king is pleased;
Your Kitchen Quest is done.
Receive your reward
For feeding the glutton.
Flotsam of Neopia
A flurry of tails are flicking around;
A glorious atmosphere has been found...
It's time to go and play!
Leaving a trail of bubbles behind,
Getting ready to relax and unwind,
Get ready for Flotsam Day!
In Maraqua, more than four million strong,
we'll gather and dance and sing our song,
and begin our great celebration.
It will last through the night,
and it's our once-a-year right,
to be heard by the Neopian nation.
From the starry to cloud,
the quiet and loud,
we are all one on this day.
Now make room for our group,
we may throw you for a loop,
'cause we have a lot left to say!
We converse and we greet,
the aquatic elite,
telling old tales to the young.
Our children must know,
as they develop and grow,
the great species that they're among.
Our families gather with pride,
all good friends by our side,
and rejoice in our flippers and fins.
With love and a smile,
just come stay for a while,
for this is where it all begins.
On a final note to TNT,
I know I'd be happy as can be,
if you make a Flotsam Maractite.
Though 8-Bit's not bad,
that Swamp Gas is sad,
and you know that colour ain't right.
The Mutant Flotsam
His scales as dark as the depths,
Deep in the water he blends in.
Moving ever so stealthily,
With spikes upon his fins.
His yellow eyes glow brightly,
Three eerily on each side.
And when his gaze does fall upon you,
You'd better swim and hide.
The green slime that drips from his mouth
Is the last thing some poor sop will see.
And if you happen to come upon him,
You may never leave the sea.
The mutant Flotsam roams these waters,
Filling some with thoughts of dread,
With spikes running down his back
And covering his head.
These far-down depths he reigns supreme,
This somewhat gruesome fellow.
If you see him passing by, it's best
To probably not wait and say hello.
Come dive into the ocean deep,
And see the Flotsam play.
So happy, carefree, free of heart,
Among the waves they sway.
As sun breaks through the restless waves,
The Flotsam swim and shout.
They flip, they jump, they twist and twirl,
Energy, they never run out.
While most at home in water,
They can join us up on land,
Crawling through a grassy field
or just basking in the sand.
Their scales gleam like diamonds,
their fins so proudly worn.
Though they have horns, do not mistake them
For your average Uni's horn.
Come dive into the ocean deep,
And see the Flotsam play.
Today they all hum the exact same tune,
"Happy Flotsam Day!"
The Royal Girl Flotsam
The dainty hue of aqua
Is graceful on her skin.
It's testament to royal blood
That fills her veins within.
A glorious crown of yellow gold
And bracelets on her arms
Do glitter in the dappled depths
Of sunlit ocean floors.
She's weighed by rings and necklaces
She wears with regal pride.
The robe she wears is green and blue
In honour of the tide.
She's glowing, yes, from head to tail,
And glowing fin to fin.
She's royalty and fine as silk.
She's dainty as a pin!
The Underwater Chef's Lament
You would think they'd ask for my return
When Maraqua was successfully rebuilt.
That they would not leave me here,
Out of water,
To serve barbarian kings who know only how to eat,
Only how to eat, and not how to appreciate.
You would think they'd ask for my return
When Maraqua was successfully rebuilt.
That they would request for their loyal chef,
The one they once loved,
The one they once praised,
The one who had struggled with them
As the city fell to ruins.
You would not think that they'd forget that chef
And welcome a new one,
With overpriced menus that leave the poor starved
And no understanding for quality, only luxury.
You would think that they wouldn't abandon me
On an island of natives with strange tastes,
Eternally out of ingredients,
Forced to beg for help from passing tourists.
But they did.
They don't need me anymore.
They have kelp.
And I don't need them.
I don't need them at all, nor do I want them.
I have kings to feed,
Kings who love my food,
Kings who request for more every five minutes.
I like it here, of course.
I love it, I do.
I swear, I love it.
Plesio the Unsung Hero
Long ago he was a fierce warrior,
amongst the best Tyrannian troops,
the bravest of the brave to
stand against the Monoceraptor.
His orders were followed
as Captain of the Sea Division;
his duty to his homeland
of Tyrannia was fulfilled.
Now Plesio with eyes so dull
and a face so plain,
his life of excitement
just a distant memory.
A life of boredom was his new destiny,
but Plesio still so heroic at heart,
he took the Wheel of Mediocrity job,
so none other would face this torture.
Happy Flotsam Day!
Sitting lonesome before the shore,
The wide-eyed creature looked on once more.
There above the crystal sea,
Gliding Flotsam waited impatiently.
Curling tightly into a ball,
Sam the Flotsam made himself look small.
He wanted to join the others at sea,
But he thought, "That's just not for me."
He watched the others jump and glide,
Saw them swimming side by side.
Watching them dive deep under sea,
Sam turned his head away again sadly.
The other Flotsam swam away;
They couldn't wait forever, they had games to play.
They left Sam lonesome before the shore,
Another night of loneliness, that's for sure.
He wiped his eyes with one swish of a fin
And cuddled up to only him.
He cried himself to sleep that night,
Wishing a change would be in sight.
He didn't want to be this sad;
His fear of water was far too bad.
What if he just couldn't swim?
The other creatures would laugh at him.
That night he dreamt of a wonderful change,
He knew this change could be arranged!
He woke up smiling and petted his horn;
Today he didn't feel quite so torn!
He glided quickly toward the sea,
And thought, "This IS the life for me!"
He allowed the water to touch his skin,
And sat there quietly just smiling.
After a minute he waddled on further,
What made him think water would be a bother?
He wasn't feeling shy; he glided out to sea,
Thinking "This is how a Flotsam's life should be!"
Skilfully and happily, he took his first glide;
He swam even more throughout the glistening tide.
He met his friends and he showed them his skills,
From now on Sam's days would be spent with thrills!
He was six years old and had spent his life scared,
Too frightened to swim, thought he couldn't bear.
But in his own time, he found his own feet,
And smiling broadly, he thinks water is pretty neat!
Who would have known, eh?
Plesio, Captain of the Sea Division
Captain of the Sea Division
of the strong Tyrannian troops,
Plesio, the purple Flotsam,
is also a council elder.
His brilliant mind and amazing
swimming abilities make him
a natural leader for all
to follow under his command.
With such a title behind him,
one will be in awe to know
he is also in charge of
the Wheel of Mediocrity.
He is not exactly the most
entertaining and enthusiastic
Neopian you will ever meet,
but that happens due to his job.
Though Monoceraptor was
defeated after the war,
he still hones his skills to prepare
for when he needs to use them.
Northern waters cool the shore,
Playfully dancing, goes the tide.
Deep breath, then the crash,
With the beach it doth collide.
A mile out, lingers she,
Among the coral rock.
She knows better than to stray
Too close to the fishing dock.
Perfection glides through the sea,
Beauty following at her tail.
She knows the waters well by heart,
For here the Queen doth prevail.
Every creature knows her name,
Those who linger in the sea,
The waves bow at her presence,
Others drop upon one knee.
Forever through these vast waters,
The Flotsam Queen doth glide,
Every cave for her to stay,
And every wave for her to ride.
Total Poetry Pages : 1962
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