Tabletop Warrior 14/100

Together we battle in dungeons deep
Far from the light in caverns we creep
Ghostly enemies disappear from sight
But with prayer and a sword we put up our fight

None can stop those who stand up for more
And we cry triumph till our throats ring sore
There's a twenty! A cheer erupts from the table
The bad guy goes down, the death of a fable

Dodge to the right and fly to the left
Disappoint none, lest he be bereft
For victory's our goal, a battle the quest
May the fates guide our swords in the way that is best

With the will of a paladin and a cleric's faith
The strength of a brute and stealth of a wraith
Smart like the wizard, yet wise as the Ent,
Together a party strong enough to be bent

Tested in fire and hardened in snow
Trouble will find us wherever we go,
But playing with friends is worth any price
And if it goes wrong, I'll blame the dice.

New Poems from 100 Days 10 + 11

Prison Break

Freedom comes creeping, seeking my aid
The chains restrain in mundane crusade
Hope fled our heads, bled dead of the light
but a flicker will snicker and stick here tonight

File a while in guile and fear
plea none see you flee and stare
Dawn is born, and horns do sound
Grunts will hunt the stunt to ground

The street is sweet, but that treat must wait
run far, shun car, stun par and gait
Hide inside and ride out the day
Most toast the boast of your getaway

I blame Monday

And now for something a little fun
Easily written and rapidly done
A rhyme that's meta and referential as shit
Breaks the forth wall so you know you're reading it

A poem that's snarky and thinks it's being funny
Really the author gave up trying to be punny
This one right here, the one lacking wit
Using any words that will rhyme and thus fit

From the dregs of a brain lost on a Monday
Now do I cheat and make a line about Sunday?
Sundae would have worked, damn you Icecream
Still this is just words and words are easy it'd seem

It's sense that is hard, and cleverness too
To make something coherent is tricky to do
I want to make words dance and cause you to feel
Affect not effect, with many layers to peel

But there's a block in my brain
Leaves me writing the mundane
A mixed bag of cabbage eyes
Something something big surprise.

Tomorrow I'll try to write something smart
Something more worthy of this art
Actually maybe not, I think I have plans
Oh well, one day. Blueberry flans.



- I've been writing these late at night, often on my phone as I drift off to sleep, so they may suffer somewhat from that. I'm out tonight so today's one cant promise to rise above, but tomorrow's will be a touch more concerned with how it presents itself. Incidentally any topic suggestions will be appreciated.

The Night 7/100

The nighttime scratches at my door,
but it can’t scare me anymore
shadows strengthen as they climb
dancing a most vicious mime.

Still, I am safe, for I am dead,
there’s my body, on that bed.
No breath, no beat, no soul to steal
I awoke and this was real,

Monsters lurk for the living mind,
in death is peace, or so I find,
Claws that scratch at the window pane
wont find purchase, I lack membrane

That poor body though, lying cold and alone,
beloved vessel of flesh, sinew and bone,
Its friends live on, though, they will be sad
Whatever has killed me, it must be bad.

What could strike me down so swift?
Between soul and body, no previous rift.
The darkness creeps, stealing closer still
even spirits shiver in the growing chill

Perhaps this is a temporary state,
an early death need not be my fate,
I’ve lost my hunger, having tasted grave
Surely mine is a life that I can save?

The room is quiet, I can’t scream
shades snicker, stalk and scheme
The hours late, I’ve been gone long enough,
getting back in my body shouldn't be tough,

I reach across to touch my face
and the eyes open! -but in their place
is not my sight, this cannot be!
In my body, is not me.

4/100 - Sex - At Anna’s Request

My face turns red and fire-y,

there’s fornication on tv,
and my mother’s here with me.

Oh dear.

This is a topic I can’t write
my achilles heel, my kryptonite

anything else would be alright,
I swear.

Sweaty bodies and that wriggly bit
I just can't get the words to fit,

or say penis without losing it

No fair.

This is a challenge I can’t win
What a topic to throw in!
Anna, my sex-rhymes grow thin.

So there.

The Second 2/100

The Second 2/100

“The race is run and someone won,

but it wasn’t me.

I tried my best and all the rest,
Still secondary

“After the first, my bubble has burst
The letdown complete
Silver is great, I hear from a mate
why bother compete?

“What do I need to take the lead?

To be in first place?
Should be quicker? My style slicker?
Can I win the chase?”

The Number Two was rather blue
(And boy, could he moan!)

Forever he’d follow, but victory’s hollow
Number one is alone.

Holly - 2014

The Start -1/100

The Start: 1/100

‘Once upon a time, a long time ago’
A simple phrase, yet great things grow
Where to start and plant my pen
upon that phrase I land again,

Tales of joy and horror and crime,

or simple quests of nonsensical rhyme

all must begin, all must be started

from the minds of their creator parted

Not with a roar, nor with a bang

barely noticed as it nimbly sprang,

from my mind, hastily writ

clumsy in structure, form and wit.

Yet here it crouches as you read,
the beginning, the dawn, a simple seed
from here it grows, watch it bloom
to glory and triumph - or the unfinished tomb? - Holly 2014


Day 1 of the 100 Days project. I'm hard pressed to make nice things quickly, so I'll stick to what I enjoy - rhyming poems! I'll try get more complex and symbolically parfait as I go on, but the first ones will be simple expulsions of words from my rusty, dusty word engine.