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Neopets Poems

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Judge's Note: Please check out the 1,300th Poetry Gallery on the previous page!

The Creaky Mutant Drawer
By Anjie

As every night Kacheek and I,
'Good night' to each did tell.
I would head up through Neohome
To room that I knew well.
In something of a state of mind,
Such decor did I pick.
Kacheek said it was rather bleak
(Sometimes that pet is thick!).

For what could bring me more delight,
Than mutant decor here?
No other room could groan out loud
Or bring such morbid fear.
I thought myself a trend-setter,
With such exquisite taste.
Yet when things did go just awry,
It happened with great haste.

The drawers each and every night
Would hop across the floor.
Moaning, groaning as they jumped
And edged past my own door.
I heard the gnash of grinding wood,
The hungry, angry sound.
The fear that built within my mind,
As they did cross the ground.

I knew things had soon reached a peak,
When one day, taking stock,
I noticed those drawers had gone
And munched up every sock.
So if you have a mutant room,
I urge you, do not wait.
Consider what the end might be,
And quick, redecorate!

What Once Was
By _Razcalz_

I'd run these meadows,
run like a weathervane set free;
and the clouds spun with
the push of my passing, and
the flowers lent
me their leaves to stroke,
and my hooves shone like a
smile of the after-rain.

And I'd breathe the
threads of bliss, and I'd
dimple 'neath lashes already
gone dozing.

And what more, what
more could an Ixi have sought?
Apparently, more.
Just more.

My homecoming was
cold, like the cinders where
fire once sang;
and the greens withered
beneath my ashen
hooves, and
my fur sat stale... dulled...
mutant. The scent, if
I grasp before
it too wilts, is my only
reply: the one that tells me
what once was.

The Seeker in the Swamp
By Dragonstorm_75

Mandibles clicking, laughter ringing,
The flutter of wings -- such wear-torn things,
A wanderer comes, from the deepest fathoms,
Of the dripping, winding, dangerous swamp.

Antennae twitch, (it must be an itch)
Eyes glint around, they follow every sound,
The mutant Ruki, so twisted, so hungry,
Wanders the swamp in search of a meal.

Moss brushes his face and stony carapace,
And stagnant water sheds light on his armour,
Though he seeks, as he had for weeks,
The swamp does not yield a fitful meal.

"Tomorrow!" he hums, like a mandolin's strums,
And withdraws to his home -- the cave in the loam,
Again does he wait, for his hunger to abate,
In the heart of the fog-cloaked swamp.

Neo-Dictionary Mutations
By Realmofmist

A Sloth plot in motion
Disfiguring the Neo-dictionary
Multiple programming errors
And the transformation is scary
A celebration of mutants
Declaring their war on words
Clearing out the libraries
Just to eradicate the nerds
It's a real typing terror
When words give no consideration
Exploding syllables in your face
It's a verbal incarceration
I'll start my own hunger strike
An immediate protest
I won't spell; I'll starve
Craving for the next spell check
No magic in the words
Losing legions of spell seekers
Too hazardous of a job
Casting precipitation on light readers
Sentences are shortened
Abbreviations score high
No multi-word combos
Strategy is left out to dry
The castle of Evil Thade
Undergoes heavy renovation
Instructions for completion
Letters lost in translation
A challenge presents itself
This alphabet pyramid overstocks
With fewer and fewer words to use
It's a race against the clock
Soon we're down to vowels
It's a foreign imperial exam
The boards have self-destructed
Completely filled with spam
A forced wager with the doctor
A pot too large to see
Neopia against the dictionary
The war of lexicography
But the grammar police invade
And Sloth begins his retreat
Full sentences are restored
Crosswords are left incomplete
Neopia is back to normal
With pets using punctuation
An office ban on liquids
Especially those labelled "transmogrification".

A Gentle Heart
By Dianacat777

The creature soars throughout the skies
With parted clouds in wake
Scales glimmer a murky green
Behold, the mutant Draik.

A flurry of its tattered wings
Keep the monster in the air
Its paws tucked close, and in their sheaths
Gleam claws that rip and tear.

Thunder roars and the beast dives
To seek shelter from storm's thrall.
He alights on ground with clacking claws
As the first raindrops begin to fall.

Soundless is his homeward plod
Toward the cave he makes his lair,
But he pauses, looks, for sounds besides
Raindrops float on the air.

He peers inside a clump of grass;
Back at him, blue eyes peep,
And seeing his frightening visage,
The Petpet backtracks and squeaks.

But the Draik continues forward
And cornering the Wain...
He extends a wing and offers
His shelter from pouring rain.

Sloth Speaks: To the Mutants
By Symbolism

Your old self might have disappeared
into the mirror on the wall,
the valley of vanity.
It invites just those plumed vibrant enough
to contribute to a sunrise in flight.
Keep your toes talonless, your eyes free
of loner's glint,
your voice filled with all the right notes.
A monster is anyone who transforms
into what he had feared.

Some invite just those plumed vibrant enough
to contribute to a sunrise in flight.
The faeries reject with finger wags.
A monster is anyone who transforms
into what he had feared.
His best feature becomes his worst.

The faeries reject with finger wags.
Faerieland's clouds grow grey tempers
just to follow you home.
When one's best feature becomes the worst,
one covers the mirror with his breath.

Faerieland's clouds grow grey tempers
just to follow you home.
When you hear thunder, don't react too soon.
Stand in the dark and cover the mirror
with your breath.
Truth's eyes will never adjust
to the bleakness of a nightmare.

When you hear thunder, don't react too soon.
They call you beast the minute
your eyes start fires.
Truth's eyes will never adjust
to the bleakness of a nightmare,
so sleep til the sun invites itself
into a dream.

They call you beast the minute
your eyes start fires.
You can cry, but only the smoke
disappears behind the flood.
Sleep 'til the sun invites itself
into a dream,
and you'll never have to worry
that they'll look you in the eye.

You can cry, but only the smoke
disappears behind the flood.
Your old self has disappeared
into the mirror on the wall.
You'll never have to worry
that they'll look you in the eye
when you're taloned and songless.

To Mute a Mutant Kadoatie
By Mamasimios

Hideous and an anomaly
Is the mutant Kadoatie
With jaundiced eyes and tattered fur.
This Petpet knows not how to purr.

From jagged tooth-filled maw comes spewing
An incessant cringe-inducing mewing.
You could run your hand down its spiky tail,
But that will not still its strident wail.

With claw-tipped paws it kneads the ground
And fills the air with its loathsome sound.
Like spikes it drives into your brain,
Threatening to make you quite insane.

Oh, nasty noise, this caterwauling!
Abominable and appalling!
Neither toy nor treat stops the cacophony
Of the screeching mutant Kadoatie!

Just when you fear you might go mad,
Along comes the owner of the mutant Kad.
Offering to take it away
If five thousand Neopoints will you pay.

Reaching for your heavy purse,
The ransom is gladly disbursed.
Five thousand Neopoints or fifty --
Not too high to mute a mutant Kadoatie.

Mutants Need Love Too!
By Ruby_petal

Off-green fur and grey freckles,
Bent whiskers and furry feet,
Scarlet eyes and sharp teeth,
Not what many would like to meet.
A small black nose, one eye shut.
Circular ears, and dark olive paws.
Be wary when you approach her;
She has sharp, overgrown claws.
She looks at you, tilting her head,
You glance down and stare.
Sympathetic eyes gawk back.
She wants someone to care.
She cuddles by your foot.
Perhaps you'll take her home?
Her tail swishes back and fro;
She doesn't want to be alone.
You reach down to pet her;
She'd love a hug or two.
She is so warm, and so soft
The little mutant Tasu.

By Maggskaggs

There is beauty in the twinkle of my eyes,
In my twisted claws and in my wrinkled skin.
I see beauty in my hunched-over posture,
And, most importantly, I see beauty within.

While other pets bemoan their mutant form,
And shudder at the sight of their twisted face,
I marvel in the miracle of my body,
And regard myself with utmost respect and grace.

My piercing red eyes are charming and mysterious,
And my back full of deadly spikes is so unique.
I'm not creepy, I'm not ugly, I'm not horrid,
And I know that I'm definitely not a freak.

I love every single mutation on my body,
And I'm sure that if you met me you'd agree,
There's no question that I'm one beautiful Neopet.
I am a mutant, I am gorgeous, and I am me.

Mutants Apart
By Rinoamog

Amid throngs of beautiful
faeries, and pets with spots or
stripes, their perfect markings,
uniform, the mutants stand
out, outsiders who
lope, lopsided through
crowds of elegant
royals, immaculately
dressed, and pets of red and
yellow, green, and blue,
each noticing the mutant who
holds his head high with
pride, even if in
stature he seems bent low,
hulking, hunched. His
pride is clear in his
eyes, though there may be
more than the expected
number of those. Don't be
shocked by his extra
limbs. There may be
scales where others of his
species have fur or
feathers; he may have a
strangely shaped body with
skin that hangs in
folds, voluminously. Looks
defensive with his spines, his
horns, his claws. But don't
think a mutant can't keep these
weapons to himself to show
affection, without bringing
harm. Know that if he
drools on you a little, he
doesn't mean to.

Oh! To Be Free!
By Ecobabe

Oh! To be free!
I soar over clouds,
I soar above the sea,
Wings hold me aloft
And I glide peacefully.

Oh! To be free!
Beyond the doubt,
Beyond the dreary,
I close my eyes to rest
And float so happily.

Oh! To be free!
Unbound from others,
Unbound from me,
I take this simple sentiment
Wherever I may be.

Now I'm awake,
It was all a dream,
No pink, no wings --
I'm just me, it seems.

I sit alone, my face askew,
Myself a sickly green.
I wonder if I could ever change
When I'm just fine being me.

My body's not what binds me;
It's the thought that matters most.
So say hooray
For Mutant Day!
That's what we ought to boast.

Mutant on the Prowl
By Coco_amour

Ghastly, twisted and grim, he creeps around,
Shallow rasping breath, a bone-chilling sound.
Yellow crooked teeth grin evilly with drool.
Caked in rotting flesh, making skin crawl.

Blue matted fur, drenched in sweat and blood,
His toenails black and filthy, painted in mud.
Cold dark eyes gleam in the moonlight,
One quick glance will cause an almighty fright.

Roaming the woods, alone and on the prowl,
Hungry and dirty, his rotten smell is foul.
Searching for food, keen and so aware,
Ready to catch and feed in his hidden lair.

Swift and camouflaged, outrun him if you dare,
A mutant Meerca delights in having his flesh rare!
Cackling as they squirm, to escape his grip,
The last sound you hear, one almighty rip.

Mutant Day!
By _Parrotz_

On the 25th of the month of Hiding,
In many dark corners they are residing,
Tentacles aplenty and oodles of eyes,
Leave Neopians in for a grotesque surprise...

A horrific Chia who eats Petpets for brunch,
And Grundos of a horrific size,
Run away fast, or you'll be lunch,
And for Gargarox you'd be a prize!

Dark purples, blues, and the gooiest of greens,
Are often popular colours to be seen,
On the majority of pets of a "mutant persuasion",
Sometimes due to Transmogrification!

Ghastly potions add extra tails,
Pets obtain slime, and some even scales,
Although lab accidents are bound to occur,
As your once "normal" pet is gone with a blur.

But your pet is still your pet,
After all they've been through,
Regardless of an extra eye,
Or one head that now is two!

Today is a day for mutants,
So give your pet some mutant food,
And if you see other mutant party-goers,
Remember not to stare (it's quite rude!).

Celebrate abnormalities,
Horns, exposed brains, a spike,
Give them a chance and accept their new style,
You might find that their look you doth like!

Can Mutants Be Happy?
By Rahbee

Grotesque and rotting -- sometimes.
Certainly seem to be plotting
To steal, cheat, and other crimes.
Korbats and JubJubs, a few to name,
Not all are total chums,
Most just want a little more fame.

In Neopia, you can find plenty.
Purple, blue, are there any with fuchsia?
Petpets seem to be the most empty.
Though many that you find are none too pretty,
If you bother to take some time
You might find them indeed quite witty.

Sometimes you can be just a little curious,
Maybe you just want something to eat,
Later, I'm sure, you'd find yourself furious.
Some of those potions, though sketchy
Give not any kind of notion
That you'd later be itchy. (If you drink it, that is.)

Transmogrification, they call it.
...what else ends in "-ification"?
For this bit, we'll just forget it and not rhyme.
Lupes and Tonus alike like to be mutant.
I'm having trouble with this middle line part...
A mutant Aisha would make a cute aunt. (.-.)

And for today, alas, it is only one. (Sigh.)
If it were possible, I'm sure at least the Albert the Kacheek would find a way
To make the number of days a ton.
But I'll leave you with this, in my own special way:
Well, I guess you could say it's a wish
That you have a wonderful Mutant Day.

The Mutant Peophin
By Hidden_0_o

Locks and locks
of Maraquan blue hair
lead the waves
under the moonlight flare

Three-eyed gaze
of an enticing stare;
you cannot escape the lure
of the emerald glare

She charms you
before you are aware
of her clawed arms
that say, "Beware!"
As you follow her
into her underwater lair,
your mind realises
the powerful chilly scare

Another one baited
by her inviting snare;
your body sinks
into pure despair

But then you notice
what is really there:
outside, mutant; inside, Peophin
seeking love and care.

Mutant Lass
By Tetrice

There's a hush 'round the fire;
there's anticipation in the air.
Silence is starting to tire,
and break it, who will dare?

Aisha, glorious in gaudy gold,
hands herself to the stage,
where she vows a tale of old
that will surpass the greatest age.

She claims Eyrie, a merchant,
was in Neovia, selling some things,
when a voice in his head did plant
the song everyone in camp sings:

'Stay away from the mutant lass,
lest she turn her gaze upon you.
Stay away from the mutant lass,
else you'll end up like her, too.'

He heeded this and left the town
in a vain attempt to stay clean,
but in a mood so gloomy and down,
it was hard to maintain one's sheen.

Two disfigured eyes followed him
to the edge of the Haunted Woods.
The creature stalked on an awkward limb
as though it meant to rob his goods.

Poor merchant, he really did believe
that his own talons were plenty sharp,
then that voice began to weave
a ballad of cellos and harp:

'Stay away from the mutant lass,
for the dear knows mercy not.
Stay away from the mutant lass,
unless you really wish to rot.'

Now he saw the threat quite clear
in a tiny figure curled at his feet.
She grinned widely, he withdrew in fear,
and that was how the pair did meet.

Cunning, the beggar requested gold,
and Eyrie obliged in a manner fast;
he said, 'If you want it, then it's sold,'
but he did not know his time had passed.

The odd one draped herself in a silk shawl
and darted back to the campgrounds,
where Aisha's hissing voice still tells all
over a chorus of gypsy sounds:

'Stay away from the mutant lass,
resist the face cute as it is sly.
Stay away from the mutant lass,
because she happens to be I.'

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