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Neopets Poems

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Yurble Anger Management
By Jjquil

Arrrgh! Anger management, you say?
My temper's merely begun to fray!
You call me surly, grumpy, rude --
You're hardly improving my mood!

I have to work from dawn to dusk;
Forgive me if my words are brusque!
I mop and scrub, I sweep and clean --
You have the nerve to call me mean?!

You little punks won't leave me be
Swarming the Observatory.
Dirtying windows, breaking gears --
It makes me so angry! I hate my career!

I worked as a Foreman, for a time.
That was no better! Always coated in grime!
Pushing furniture, digging holes --
Argh, so stupid! Yurbles aren't Symols!

I need a moment to get some fresh air...
This ranting and raving makes everyone stare.
They gossip about me, it makes me so mad!
(If you're not a janitor, you should be glad!)

The Yurble Raider
By Ktkdk

With a mischievous glint in his eyes
The old Yurble happily sighs.
He is pleased that his memory lasts
Of that epic night far in the past.

When that Yurble was young,
He was a hero who was left unsung.
He stole from the rich and the poor
During the time of the Meridell war.
The Yurble Raider he was called;
Any troop who crossed his path, he mauled.
He was vicious. He was cunning.
His reputation alone sent Neopets running.

Then along came that fateful day
When the Yurble Raider got in the way
Of an epic battle between Jeran and Kass,
And there was no way for him to pass.
So the Yurble Raider summoned his power
And attacked Kass who stood firm like a tower.
But in the end, the Yurble had his way:
Kass was knocked out. The Yurble saved the day!

As the Yurble Raider matured, he understood
That life is so much better if you are good.
Although now he sits at home and rests,
He knows that his life is by far the best.

A Narrative of Yurbot
By Dianacat777

Beep. Powering up.
Rebuff, streaming sub-circuits
Awaiting commands.

Recall last orders
Error -- memory banks cleared
By an unknown source

Sub-circuit HEART found
Electric pulse reads 20
Yurbot feels Angry

Has been moved to front of queue
Commence shaking fist

But why... where am I?
I remember a feeling
Not just in data

I once was happy
But 'happy' cannot compute
I'm just a robot

Answer located
Sentient programming found
Installer unknown

There was a mission
The Space Faerie lingers, yet
I recall nothing

A key. A message.
Corrupt pieces of videos
For me to rebuild.

This barren expanse
Of Kreludite and craters
Yields nigh no answers.

Battery power
Fails. Emergency shutdown.
Powering down. Boop.

The Life of an Oh So Recogniseable Janitor Yurble
By Magicalcameron

Always cleaning up your mess!
Yes, I'm always cleaning up your mess!
My clean floors wrecked,
Wrecked, wrecked, wrecked.
My clean floors wrecked.

I swear that polishing it is just a waste,
You'll trample it anyway.
You shift the gears,
You play around in the Observatory.
Who do you think cleans it?!

A statue shattered,
More work.
And yet with my bucket and mop
I'm still standing here and fixing your disasters.

Careless Neopians!
Do you know how heavy those shards are?
I thought not!

Unappreciated, I am.
I do my job
Day after day,
To discover more messes.
I cannot let you out of my sight!
Fyora, give me strength!
Hold on, is that a scuff on that plaque?
Off to work.

The Yurble Raider
By Dragonstorm_75

What's that shadow on the run,
Hidden from the searching sun?
Slipping past the grasping flames,
Of burning houses and lost claims.

Across the mire of battles lost,
Stirred around the fallen host,
The Yurble Raider glides on past,
Like the summer draught, soft and fast.

A horn's alarm! That careless pace,
Now brought forth a roaring chase!
The hunter hunted, running away,
From arrows cast in a wide array.

Darting through the scarred homes,
He reaches soon the forest loams,
While Darigan soldiers search in vain,
And soon retreat across the plain.

Hidden in the thicket's heart,
The Yurble sights a black rampart:
The Citadel's now looming there,
Above Meridell: a scar, a tear.

And yet he plays no role in the war:
His heart lies with the spoils afar,
Hidden in homes abandoned to fate,
From poor little hovels to the noble's estate.

At last the husks of old houses collapse,
No treasures remain in the ashen scraps,
So Raider moves on, seeking his goods,
Once more the shadow within the woods.

The Yurble (Painted Halloween)
By Mamasimios

"Trick or treat," says the Yurble,
Through menacing and gritted teeth,
His brows are arched in challenge,
With green eyes flashing underneath.

He holds out a well-worn moneybag,
Emblazoned with a dollar sign.
He clenches one hand into a fist;
His twin horns catch the light and shine.

His claws click on the crumbling concrete
Of your slightly sagging stoop,
As he taps his feet with bold impatience,
Anticipating swag and loot.

You scratch your head in bemusement
As you peer up at the springtime skies;
Is this a confused Yurble youngster,
Or a junior Tax Beast in disguise?

Knowing the Yurbles you have met,
And the tempers that they can display,
You decide to give this one some sweets,
At least to make him go away.

Watching him depart with a swagger,
The breeze blowing his mane of green,
You guess every day is right for trick-or-treating
For a Yurble who is painted Halloween.

Thoughts of a Surprisingly Eloquent Yurble Janitor
By _Razcalz_

I could never, for the life of me,
remember the name of that
Brightvalian Kacheek.
Dark grey and
silver-haired he was, and I
always liked that crisp white and green
uniform. Said he
played for some team.
For one so sprightly
he appreciated the stories of the stone
guardians of my Hall. I don't think
I ever yelled at HIM.

I imagine he'd be too busy
to visit this time,
too busy adjusting to a
field improved and unprecedented,
what with odd
expanding nets and all.
But I'm just a janitor.

And you never know what you
have until it's gone
(or replaced),
like that MUDDY Alabriss
I used to rage at with my mop, in
whose sudden absence the
Hall of Heroes is so...
much less fun.

This poem is of
no connection to certain
recent changes here in Altador,
of course.
Sincerely, the Janitor

Doing the Yurble's Job
By Filter

It's always happy, always fun,
When this special day arrives.
A day for all the hardworking Yurbles,
To kick up their heels and let out their sighs.

A day of relaxation, a day of celebration,
A day to sleep in and rest.
No work, just play on this happy day,
To them, Yurble Day is the best.

So many jobs those Yurbles cover,
From cleaning to Slorg eradication.
Yurble Day is only once a year,
But to Yurbles, it's a vacation.

Hang up your mops, put down your pans,
Even drop that Slorg spray too.
Stick an umbrella in your drink,
There's nothing left to do!

Relax, dear Yurbles, you've earned this prize,
Today we'll do your job!
I'll get the mop, you get the spray,
While the Yurbles can just hobnob.

So many great things the Yurbles have seen,
So many great plots they have worked in.
Nothing could run so smooth without Yurbles,
That's the way it's always been.

Cleaning Saviour
By Ladygaladriel213

A squishing, gulping sound,
The mop smacking the floor.
It sounds like tentacles releasing,
A dance of the menial chore.

The unrelenting swiping,
The undesired griping.
A tuft of orange hair
Flames the room with a glare.

Slap, slap, slap, the mop moves in time
To the rhythm of his soul.
No respect is given where due,
So he grips tighter his mop's rough pole.

He sweats and shakes and gestures so;
He's already been down this path twice!
He mops and mops, and the floor gleams;
It sparkles and glitters like a sheet of ice!

Yet he turns around and muddy footprints abound!
Whatever is he to do?
He scratches his head and suddenly knows!
He knows just what to do!

He meets an offender on his path,
Footprints are telltale stories.
He pictures himself in the Hall of Heroes,
One to go down in cleaning glory.

He hefts his wooden handle high,
The light glinting off his mop.
He brings it down with a treacherous thud,
And the offender has taken his bop!

He laughs hysterically and then frowns;
His demeanour shall never waver!
Down in the annals of history shall be
"Yurble Janitor Cleaning Saviour!"

Happy Yurble Day, Yurbot!
By Agedbeauty

Yurbot is a strange fellow,
Who isn't what he seems.
He may seem like a robot, but
He isn't one; no, not quite.

And Yurbot may seem like a
Yurble, but he's not that either.
At least, not one entirely!
So what is Yurbot really?

He's a little bit of both.
Yurble? Robot? No -- Yurbot!
With the Yurble temper, too,
And the precision of a bot.

Designated by Sloth as
Quote, Y - R - B - Dash - X - One,
We saw Yurbot in plot of past,
On a ship that did explode.

So where did our Yurbot go
When his poor ship exploded?
I'd like to think that Yurbot
Did escape before the blast.

Surely he's clever enough
To avoid his ship's destruction?
Yes, I do think he must be
Out there, somewhere, in hiding.

So Yurbot, this one's for you --
Here are a slew of stanzas,
Verses written just for you.
Happy Yurble Day, Yurbot!

I 'Heart' My Baby Yurble
By Alagfalaswen

I have a baby Yurble,
He's tubby, cute, and round.
He makes this little burble,
which is the cutest sound.

His eyes are big and winsome,
His paws are short and soft.
He's both cuddly and firm,
When I hold him aloft.

I love his blue-hued colour
And how my Yurble smiles.
For me, there is no other
more beguiling with his wiles.

One blink, and I'd buy candy,
Restock a costly toy,
if just to make him happy,
my rotund ball of joy.

I love my baby Yurble,
from head to little toes,
Thus I wrote this poem to yodel
so that everybody knows!

The Janitor
By Fyora_fyora__33

He stays there, and he's all alone,
Wiping the dirt off the walls of stone.
Who is he, you might want to ask?
He's the Yurble Janitor, doing his task.

Another complaint, for another day,
Another paragraph, with words of dismay,
Comes out of his mouth, so tired and weary,
And I'll warn you, it may sometimes be silly.

But I feel his lone melancholy, I'd say,
Would you not complain if you were him every day?
Alone and bored, with a league of statues,
Just looking into a sky of a hundred blues?

He mops the floor, makes it shine,
And cleans the dirty Petpets, marching in a line!
The mop and bucket, his weapons so trusty,
When the dust comes in, they're always handy!

Praise to him! Praise to the Yurble!
Performing his task in a way quite subtle.
(And sometimes, you'll see him under the sun,
Cooking delights or being a foreman!)

The Mask of Ignorance
By _Chopin

I had never quite understood
The draw of Neopets to Geraptiku.
It was nothing but a cursed tomb,
At least in my point of view.

That is until I found Goparokko,
A game of colours in shades quite bright,
Which sent a large tiki mask into my vision,
Giving me one too many frights.

A Yurble donned the mask, you see,
As he thought it showed his magic --
Which to him was something profound,
But to me was something tragic.

In his mind he controlled the stones,
Their colours changing with mathematics.
I wished to tell him otherwise,
To hopefully rid him of these dramatics.

But there was never a mask as glorious
As the one that Yurble wore.
It nearly charmed me into ignorance,
Forgetting what I knew before.

And it was due to this admiration,
That I did not break his delusion.
He certainly wasn't a magical being,
Though he came to that conclusion.

Then what else controls those stones
If not that crazed Yurble standing guard?
And as that thought crept into my mind,
It was something I had to disregard.

Geraptiku may be something unknown,
Adding sure fright to its mystery,
But I'd rather not know of its secrets,
And most likely terrifying history.

A Brave Yurble's Tale
By Saqo

Today as we all celebrate
Yurbles, those near and far,
there's one that quite
well surpasses them all.

He's called the Yurble Raider.
His story is well-known.
When Kass was terrorising
Meridell, his bravery was shown.

Battles raged around him,
fires and zombied soldiers,
but he gathered his bravery
and sprinted to a cottage.

He saw much treasure there
and made to grab it all.
But as he made his escape,
he met Lord Kass, oh no!

They fought then and there, one
strengths against another.
Punching, kicking, fists swinging,
Surely Kass would win this one?

Then what happened next is
quite unbelievable, to be fair.
The Yurble Raider escaped;
to escape Kass, why, how rare!

You might ask how I know this;
well, as I tell all who ask,
I know this because I was he,
who faced bravely the Lord Kass!

The Yurble's Lament
By Emilysusanburt

Oh, look at the cute little Petpets,
They're coming to visit me!
The Minitheus with their sweet
Curly horns, the Altachucks
With their adorable noses.
And now here's the Vaeolus,
Such lovable paws that I
Can't help but want to squeeze.
Right behind them are the darling
Alabriss with their charming hooves,
Which are usually wet

And often quite muddy

And I have to clean up after them

And sometimes there are so many
That I can hardly stand it,
And I want to take my mop
And drive them all away,
But the Petpet League has warned me
More times than I can count,
And one more violation
Will surely get me fined.

But still they come
And come
And come
And come!!!

Okay, okay, I'm breathing now,
My therapist has told me
So many times in the past,
It's all about the breathing.
She says the time has come
To make friends with the cute
Little Petpets. To invite them
Into my heart, so I try to
Be good and patient and kind,

But the Minitheus are dripping
Mud from their manes,
And the Vaeolus are getting
Burn marks on the statues,
And I can't seem
To make them stop.
They just come
And come
And come
And they won't go away!

Three Yurble Cupcakes
By Tiptoeboo

Three Yurble cupcakes, sitting in a line
Icing bright, and cherry eyes shine,
Smelling strong dark chocolate noses
Pick up the fresh scent of baked roses.
All have sweet icing of a different hue:
Green, white, pink, all fun to view.
Tastes the first of citrus lemon lime acid,
Mellow with chocolate, creamy and placid.
The second is vanilla sweet, mild;
A single bite tastes of summer smiles.
And the third, sensuous strawberry red,
A pink wig upon its sugary Yurble head.
The trio together makes a treat for all,
A present perfect in every way, if small,
As a Yurble stomach can hold a lot
Of sweet tooth food that it ought not.

The King of Orange
By Caily_

Oh, to be king would be a glorious thing!
Thinks he in his janitor's smock.
The ruler of Altador, they'd say, and they'd sing,
While he sits in his house by the docks.

They'd pamper and preen his fine Yurble hair,
As he sits in his robe made of gold.
They'd say and they'd sing that he's fairer than fair,
And they'd do all that they're told.

"Move over, Lupe, it's my turn for bows!"
He shouts when he walks onto stage.
Equipped with his mop he sings and he howls,
Whilst scrubbing on minimum wage.

To just be a king would be okay,
He thinks while he continues to mop.
The king of orange, he'll convince them to say,
A title that no one can top!

The Prettiest Yurble
By Tanikagillam

I glance in the mirror,
One last time.
One last quick check,
And I'm looking just fine.
My teeth are sparkling,
Shining vibrant white.
My fur is combed,
Glossy and bright.

I'm wearing my best,
I look ever so neat.
Pale gloves on my paws,
Sparkling shoes cover my feet.
A necklace of pearls
Beautifies my neck.
My dress has been pressed,
Lint? Not a speck.

My lips are bright red,
My very favourite shade.
Lipstick, eye-shadow, mascara,
My very own earrings I made.
At last, my tiara!
Diamonds gleaming bright,
Sits atop my styled hair,
Clipped on to it tight.

I'm ready to go,
I'm going to win,
I look fabulous,
It's almost a sin.
The contest is mine,
I'll get the gold.
I'll win yet again,
It just never gets old.

The trophy is mine,
Just like all the rest.
Why am I so confident?
Because I am simply the best!

The Folly of Follies
By Sarnfox

A storm in the desert buries scrolls in the sand
As a brave new adventure sweeps over the land.
They come in their thousands to clear it away,
Handfuls of granules on a blazing desert day.
A loud voice booms, angry and scolding,
The overworked foreman, a smile withholding.
What is this great trouble that plagues him so?
The workers are lazy; they're being too slow!

So dull in the kitchen, the chef stirs his stew,
A nauseous concoction, this sickening brew.
He dreams of adventure and riches and gold,
Still thinking of glory as the hot meal grows cold.
Then meeting a hero, the Yurble chef says:
"What a wonderful way to be spending your days!
I'm afraid I'm just boring, and it really shows,
All I've been doing is painting my toes."

Alone in the darkness with statues and grease,
The cleaner in rags thinks of anything but peace.
Disdaining the darkness, but hating the light,
Despairing that heroes ever do stuff just right.
The roof and the gears and a broken statue
Mean an angry janitor waving mops at you.
When his fuse burns out, he'll turn and say:
"Those buttons, you know,

Oh, Tax Beast
By Manforgot

Oh Tax Beast, why do you take my money?
It's not like you need it;
You've got quite the tummy.
You laugh and say it's funny,
When I'm one spot away from the trophy.

Oh Tax Beast, why are you so mean?
I simply want to restock and be left alone
But you turn me upside-down,
And the money falls out of my jeans.
Now I can't even afford a Carrot Cone!

Oh Tax Beast, why are you so angry?
Did someone take your money in the past?
Why can't we get along and be just dandy?
We could finally get along at last.

Oh Tax Beast, won't you leave me be?
If you won't, you won't be very happy.
In fact, things could soon get quite scrappy
When Sloth and his "associates" take your money.

Ode to a Janitor
By Ecogirl45

In the corner, there he stands
With his bucket and mop in hand.
When you get near, the Janitor tells
You to get away, or so he yells.
His greatest dream is for there to be less
Of this horrid infernal mess.
Though Yurbles are happy and cheerful,
With this one you must be careful.
If you aren't, you might just see
An orange Yurble decree:
ARRGGG! I'm just so mad!
I can't do anything to get glad!
So, angry Yurble, rant away,
For today is Yurble Day!

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