Thread: Heaven: The Belisary (An Epic Poem) Board: Limbo / Ship of Fools.
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Posted by Stoo (# 254) on
:
I sing of Arms and hosts at war,
A mighty celestial battle.
Come Muse, and help me tell of all
That happened, forbid thou me to prattle.
A storm was brewing in the realms
Of gods and hosts and spirits;
War was declared on Heav'n, by Hell
And it is markéd in these lyrics.
Our hero, Bel, stood sev'n feet tall
(E'en taller on the telly)
And he was joined by other hosts,
Noble Viola and Starbelly.
The villains then, were really bad,
With few redeeming features:
Sarkycow, Nightlamp and Master Tomb
(Alongside their imps, toadies and leeches)
Forgive me now, for it is late
(Which must explain my shoddy rhyme)
What happens next, someone else must tell,
(Keeping it, of course, in time)...
[edited thread title for Limbo]
[ 19. January 2004, 02:48: Message edited by: RuthW ]
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
Yes, Bel was all that Stoo proclaimed.
Refined and Olympian was he;
Possessed of all virtues that could be named
By the Heavenly Hierarchy.
Crudity had no sway o'er him;
Passion's Cup he never did spill.
Even Sentiment he did not so much as skim.
Though he bore Heaven's fluff with good will.
Out of bemused ennui he had refrained
From joining in the general mess.
But now there was a chance to be entertained
From Hell's tries at causing distress.
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
Thus did tomb slither to Heavenly land,
His snideness and rudeness down pat.
The Sarkycow Puppet hid one clawed hand
A la South Park's Mr. Hat.
His arrogance took an unexpected role--
He dared to match Heaven's art.
So from the depths of his brutal soul
A Operettic number did start...
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
Oh, better far to live in Hell
Where whiners, flamers, jerks all dwell
Than play a sanctimonious part
With mincing words and cynic's heart.
In this bland dystopia I'll leave posts,
Where back-stabbing hypocrites rise to be Hosts;
But I'll be true to the song I sing,
And live and die a Reptile King.
For I am the Reptile King!
And it is, it is a glorious thing
To be a Reptile King!
For I am a Reptile King!
Hurrah for the Reptile King!
And it is, it is a glorious thing
To be a Reptile King!
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
A reference to a Comic Opera buffoon!
Not an image a Hellhost should nurse.
'Twas surprising that tomb had blundered so soon--
Divisiveness now made things worse.
"That sucked!" the Sarkycow puppet chimed;
Tomb gave it a violent smack.
Tantrums then burst forth erratically timed
As if he'd been smoking Crack.
Posted by Stoo (# 254) on
:
And there below, in the fiery pit,
Amidst the squabbles, voices ran.
The denizens of hell had hit
Upon a cruel and fiendish plan.
"Let us strike them where it smarts!"
Cold Nightlamp cried to the foul bovine,
"You remove their private parts,
And I will boil them up in brine!"
"Shut your trap!" rasped the rugose one,
"Can't you see I'm trying to think?
We must hit upon a plan
To cause their very faith to sink."
"Ooh, I know," cried Sarkycow,
"Let's call them nasty names!"
"Better yet," opined Nightlamp,
"Start party threads, and sad word games!"
"Ah no," said Tomb, "I've just the thing
To tear their very hearts asunder!"
And right on key, a plot device:
Lightning, sheeting rain and thunder.
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
Meanwhile the Hosts of Heaven reclined
In graceful attitudes,
Their forms so elegant, their talk so refined,
Being neither perverts nor prudes.
Belisarius deigned to take a look
At a squabbling down in Hell.
A second was all his surveying took;
Then he said, his voice clear as a bell--
"There's still no need to change our plan
To watch Bergman films and sip Port.
Hell's ravings are merely a flash in the pan--
To Force we've no need to resort."
Viola said in a dulcet voice pure,
"With you I thoroughly agree."
But Starbelly felt somewhat unsure--
"Perhaps Hell I should see..."
[Grammar corrected]
[ 12. September 2002, 01:33: Message edited by: Belisarius ]
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
Belisarius smiled with indulgence--
"If you want, of course, down you may go.
But why one should stand Hell's effulgence
Is something I don't care to know."
"Hell is nothing to us," Viola said,
"Though its excesses sometimes amuse.
Why get near a mob so ill-bred;
Your senses you shouldn't abuse!"
"True, Hell can't hurt us," Starbelly replied,
"But the feelings of others may hurt.
So I must cross the chasm wide
And battle the rude and pert."
So benevolent was Bel, that even though
The Thread's title was based on his name,
He kindly let Starbelly go
To acquire inevitable fame.
Posted by Stoo (# 254) on
:
So the star-bellied Neil went down into Hell,
"Attack, attack," he cried, "attack!"
And armed with hugs, smiles (and a tinkly-bell)
He broke the gates and forced them back.
Inside, he shone and hugged and tinkled,
The minions found themselves forced to flee.
He pulled out glitter-tubes, and sprinkled
Silver stars in the lava sea.
But then, behind him, the gates slammed shut,
The Sith Lord Nightlamp wheezed "You sap!
You fool! You imbecile! You mutt!
You have rushed straight into my trap!"
And with a cackle that shook the walls,
The Hell-host enveloped himself in his cloak,
And when the air cleared, Neil found those halls
Of hell were empty, save for the smoke.
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
Neil was uneasy, but too brave to flee,
When suddenly Nightlamp returned.
He looked as angry as angry could be;
The ground beneath his feet burned.
"A truce is declared!" the fiend did shout,
And of bile he spat a huge wad.
"I have find out what it's all about--
So get the **** out, you great sod!"
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
"We warned Starbelly," Viola observed,
"That he would be wasting his time.
Such attention Hell's never deserved--
For the whole Board I'd not pay a dime."
"Be that as it may," Belisarius said,
"He has sparked my interest in deeds.
Let's recount Old Board Stories before they are dead--
On publicity fickle Fame feeds."
"There plenty from Hosting," Viola agreed,
"And others may join in as well.
As long as they write with the wit we so need,
The posts can come even from Hell."
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
"For now, I will recall a thread
At which I would fondly look.
Through the worst of luck it now is dead,
Though two disasters it took.
"The Story Relay was a treat
With humor and kitsch to spare.
Rodents, Smilies, and Humans would meet;
In-jokes and subtext they'd share.
"But Sheila was its brightest light--
A beautiful hamster bold.
A Rodent Diva her birthright,
Her exploits had to be told."
Posted by blackbird (# 1387) on
:
vain ![[Big Grin]](biggrin.gif)
tried her best to upstage her,
but true charlie was not called away.
and while hjalmar was sometimes a bother,
they shared make-up and stockings each day.
twas rodrigo who made her heart flutter,
though his vanishing made her head spin.
that was simply the price of unlearning,
hamster pride! hamster sloth! hamster sin!
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
![[Wink]](wink.gif)
and Anonymous gave the plot
Some romance for those with that taste;
Villainous plans Mr. Big soon begot,
But they were thwarted post-haste.
Quetzalcoatl appeared on TV;
Headless Joan Rivers became.
Vomit Boy proved heroic to be;
The Edinburgh Fringe stayed the same.
Posted by blackbird (# 1387) on
:
oh, there were biscuits, volcanoes and caves,
traffic hissing on rainy black streets.
there were ray-guns and mirrors, a black ace of spades,
but with walri surely none could compete.
no deed, for rev. wantwill, was ever too dark,
no soup challenged crafty hopsing.
but if we had to listen to owens and clark
much longer we'd all have stopped typing.
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
The Smilies mentioned also appeared
In a Big Brother parody;
The social dynamics were noticeably weird--
They were not One Big Family.
got the boot as soon as could be;
![[Cool]](cool.gif)
was deemed without use.
was too bland, while all could see
![[Razz]](tongue.gif)
's history of rubber abuse.
Posted by kenwritez (# 3238) on
:
And yet mighty Stoo did stew and ponder,
Weak and weary like a game show contestant,
Where hid the fair prize he sought, perhaps far yonder?
Sitting 'neath the feet of some wise Protestant?
For fair-haired Belisarius, snoozing gently
In Heaven's comfy, reclineréd La-Z-Boy,
Hath dropped the remote control o so spently
From flacid, Cheeto-stainéd hand, a toy
Brave Stoo desired deeply, spurning materialism
'Midst contentious Ship-mates adrift in posts,
Awash in downéd servers and American imperialism,
So prickly-footed, dodging cats and hosts
His sinewy grasp exceeded his reach and lo!
The remote control now was his! Rejoice!
The muttering Hell-crew too umbrage down below
And vowed deep in warm beer cups, their voice
Wouldst now be heard, the remote control, theirs!
No poltroony, lily-featured Heaven's git
Would master the infernal TV set! Heirs
Infernal, forever! they screamed, Of vengeance it
Now was planned, and lovely Stoo, the shining
Paragon, was connived to be besmirched!
Craft Nightlamp, bilious Sarkycow, whining
Tomb, bemoaned their failure to rhyme "besmirched."
Their plans found'ring 'pon reverent Stoo's Boy Scout,
Pearlescent honor, in joyous triumph, remote
Held high, sorry Hell-crew tongues stuck out,
In searing Envy's flames their flabby hearts afloat.
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
Weep, ye Nymphs, for the forlorn Stoo,
For Danger was much more near.
While what with the remote he pondered to do,
A Giant did suddenly appear.
For the mighty Coot reared his spectacular form--
A New Heaven Host created!
With his manly height several times the norm,
He thunderingly berated:
"Rash mortal! How dare you in Impudence take
An object that's Heaven's own!"
His stentorian tones made the landscape quake
And the very atmosphere groan.
Poor Stoo was frozen in icy terror
By the glorious Coot's harangue.
He feared that in punishment for his error
He'd be crushed into meringue.
[added stanza]
[ 08. October 2002, 20:46: Message edited by: Belisarius ]
Posted by Columcille (# 1384) on
:
666 bottles of holy water sitting on a wall
666 bottles of holy water sitting on a wall
And if one bottle....
O.K, maybe not
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
The splendid Coot's shadow now Stoo's foot touched--
Stoo tried not to faint;
To the remote he spasmadically clutched
As a penitent to a Saint.
While trapped within this mindless fear
His fingers twitched at random;
But as the Coot came more and more near
Three buttons got pushed in a tandem.
Behold! Blinding streams of light
Made even the Coot shield his eyes;
When the massive being regained his sight
He saw an amazing surprise.
For the comely Stoo had been elevated--
Now no mere mortal he.
With Heaven's Hosts he now could be rated
As a demi-deity!
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
Belisarius and Viola saw
What Stoo had just become.
This brand-new godling, untested and raw--
Could they keep him under their thumb?
"I hope he doesn't run amok,"
Wise Viola said;
"Such a promotion might bring bad luck,
And have fluffy posters see red."
"I am not yet concerned," Belisarius said,
"Such novices we can control.
If such as beings as we could be sick in bed,
We could still safely plot out his role."
[Grammar corrected ![[Embarrassed]](redface.gif)
]
[ 28. October 2002, 15:26: Message edited by: Belisarius ]
Posted by Inanna (# 538) on
:
"Aha" answered Viola, with a smug grin
"The role we can give him is this:
We'll keep him from both'ring us ever again
Make him host of the new Knockout Quiz.
"For surely it promises plenty of tricks
To keep our new host occupied.
With links to be checked and board code to be fixed
And at least twenty pages beside."
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
"Excellent plan, if I may say so,"
Belisarius agreed.
"Into the Quiz Thread Stoo will go
For as much time as he need."
The two noble Hosts unraveled the thread
To its full supernatural length;
The Numerous tangents on which it had fed
Provided e'en more tensile strength
They then dropped it all on the unprepared Stoo--
He was instantly caught in its web.
It stuck to him like paper to glue;
He struggled, but his strength soon did ebb...
Posted by Stoo. (# 254) on
:
"Alas! Alack!" cried Stoo, "I'm sure
To perish midst a swarth of links!
I've many things to do before
I catch my final forty winks!
With quiz threads, Tigglet's online-nookie,
And many a random boring thread,
At this rate, I will indeed be lucky
To make it out before I'm dead!"
And so, young Stoo henceforth proceeded
To correct, edit, check and delete
And to Belisarus' whim conceded,
He set about his fearsome feat.
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
The Quiz Thread Stoo was able to leave
After sloughing though many posts.
His exit made some Immortals grieve,
For his labors amused many Hosts.
The next stop, a Refuge for insecure posters,
A respite gave to Stoo.
Here were no Trolls or Hellish Toasters;
Barbs were far and few...
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
"He'll stay for a while," was the comment given
By Viola as Stoo thus relaxed.
"He's now as stressed a sinner unshriven,
His faculties have been so taxed.
"Yea, minutae have done their work
In taming this young recruit.
Other tasks he will consider a perk
And thank us for them, to boot."
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
Time thus passed, Stoo knew not how much,
When suddenly words broke his snooze
"You have deeds to do and acts and such!
Quickly--you've no time to lose!"
Startled, Stoo rose and was startled to see
A being of mysterious air.
Rum and Uncanny he looked to be;
His features seemed stern yet fair.
"A Long-Lost Thread we must revive!
My sword must be regained!
Into new threads now we must dive!
Later, all will be explained."
Stoo barely had time to bid farewell
To the denizens of this mild land
Before Wood pulled him on like a Sinner from Hell--
New journeys were now at hand.
Posted by Stoo (# 254) on
:
"O, what the thread? And where the sword?
And who is the master of the uncanny and rum?"
Young Stoo's head was full of discord
And he felt an urge to phone his mum.
But, no, be bold, be strong, be brave,
For the Lord is with you (or something like that)
Stoo's blood ran cold - he'd have to save
The sword, or pull something else out of the hat.
"But where to start the search?" he asked
"In Purgatory, AS or hell?
Needs must impart, and impart fast,
The answer to the question well!"
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
"In Hell, of course," thus proclaimed Wood--
A flagrant plot device.
Will it bring Hellish posts?--from the Hellhosts it should;
Those show-offs need not be asked twice.
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
But Lo! With the suddenness one would expect,
Changed was the Heavenly Realm.
Viola was snatched by that proud Elect
The Administrative Helm.
Bel and Coot, though, soon again settled
In lording o'er Heaven's folks,
Tidying threads and not getting nettled
At appearances of lame jokes.
Meanwhile, young Stoo and the mysterious Wood
Were getting closer to Hell,
That place with which no PR firm could do good
No matter the claptrap they'd sell.
Posted by Wood (# 7) on
:
Meanwhile, teaching Stoo in his Welsh Gothic mansion,
The Uncanny One surveys all the changes,
Noticeably free from worry and tension,
His collection of relics, he arranges.
"Young Stoo," says Wood, "through it all
My place shall survive - mark me well -
The Fortress of Arrogance never shall fall,
Shall outlast Heaven, Purg, Styx and Hell."
But Stoo, he's not listening - he looks to the sky,
His gaze fixed over Wood's shoulder.
"Well, out with it, lad," is Wood's tetchy cry,
"What? I am getting no older!"
But Stoo only points, too dumbfounded to speak,
And he points and makes primate-like noises,
At the spaceship which draws closer like some alien freak,
Its engines now drown out their voices.
Posted by sarkycow (# 1012) on
:
All Stoo can do is gibber and drool,
Then pale, and sway, and fall flat.
Wood sighs impatiently and then
Pulls smelling salts from his hat.
But when young stoo he does awake
The boy can shed no light,
For out the window all is fine;
Just a swirling misty sight.
Bold Wood suggests a walk to clear
Young stoo's addled mind.
So off he trots to get some air,
Leaving The Master behind.
Posted by Stoo (# 254) on
:
Some time later, Stoo returned,
his head unaddled and cleared,
But to his horror, he quickly learned
That Wood and his mansion had disappeared.
"Oh no!" Stoo cried, "Not this! My lord!
This is a horror most ungood!
First goes missing, the GBF sword,
And now is gone my master, Wood!"
Stoo collapsed in dispair and grief,
His head resting on the iron fence,
But in time, he set resolve and gritted his teeth,
He knew he must leave for the Fortress of Arrogance.
"A band I need, some merry men
To aid and abet me on my path
I shall tarry here for volunteers, and then
We'll start our Odyssey, facing the journey's wrath."
Posted by Stoo (# 254) on
:
Days had past, and Stoo had found
No-one willing to follow his lead.
He listened for clues, but the only sound
Was that of passing tumbleweed.
Posted by sarkycow (# 1012) on
:
For the cunning Captain Simon J
Had found a way to distract
Stoo's would-be helpers and the like
From finding Wood intact.
He plucked an idea from the boards
And made it all the rage
To put on costumes, learn your part
And play act on the stage.
A Nativity play was just the thing
To make the forget poor Wood.
Whilst the time was drawing near
When he'd be gone for good.
Even stoo was caught up in
The fun and frolics now
Watching, hoping and cackling now
Was Captain J's partner, the Cow.
(Thanks Nunc, for the rhyme!)
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
Thus overwhelmed was the hapless Stoo
By the Board of Nativity.
Out of vanity Herod the role he did do;
Fatally distracted was he.
For Wood the unfathomable still was lost;
Hope of rescue decreased by the hour.
Stoo received accolades--but what was the cost?
Was success now beyond his power?
[typo]
[ 26. December 2002, 16:26: Message edited by: Belisarius ]
Posted by Stoo (# 254) on
:
And then, the Nativity drew to an end,
The season of Advent was over.
Stoo realised that he had abandoned his friend,
And alone, quickly set off for Dover.
(A ferry, he had to catch, that day,
You see, he felt sure that Master Wood was in Calais)
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
Stoo thus sailed, quite unknowing
Of any fame acquired,
Until was sighted a small isle showing
Where worshippers had retired.
"Rejoice," cried they, "O S.A.S.,
Our idol has arrived!
O Stoo, your humble fans please bless--
Fulfill our quest contrived!"
Stoo blushed faintly, still not used
To wielding Heaven's cachet.
Quickly he struggled at les mots justes
For the greeting he was to say.
Posted by lanky_badger (# 3514) on
:
What then, pray tell, what happened next?
How will the tale unfold?
In Heaven and Hell, we all are vexed:
O please dust off the mould
Of the mighty tale, so we might learn
Of heroes and of harships
Of battles, castles, cities burned
Of finishing one's parsnips.
Wouldst think, with all the time I've had
My rhyming would be better
Forgive me that it is so bad,
You should, this is the way in Heaven.
Dust off the ages, write on Scribes
Who was the Saviour, what the plan?
Think back to times gone by, describe
How Heaven's people were not damned ...
Posted by sophs (# 2296) on
:
Oh tell us please do! This story of yours
The adventures of this mournful day
Pick up the tail in the port of Calais
where Wood does reside so they say.
Upon the boat our young hero did speak
And tell of his quest once again
When a shadowy figure caught his eye
And raced round the boat in the rain.
Young Stoo did pursue the figure he saw
All over the deck of the ship
Until in the light he glimpsed the face
And drank from the flask on his hip.
The person before him, he knew it was so
Was the only one to hold the key
To unlock the dark door of fate
And solve this whole mystery.
(hey! this isn't as hard as it looks!!!)
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
Stoo finally caught up with his quarry,
Grasped its billowing cloak, and then
Tore off its hood--he was not sorry,
For he had now discovered Sven!
The unnatural imp of the tribe of Moose
Was balanced on perilous stilts,
But with his capture both came loose
Like dead leaves when greenery wilts.
By its fuzzy antlers Stoo grabbed Sven--
"I have you, Betrayer of Wood!
Tell me his fate, or tonight will mark when
Your existence is stamped out for good!"
Posted by lanky_badger (# 3514) on
:
meanwhile, in the future, shipmates looked on
in horror, pity and dread
for some sorry poster started, anon
an everlasting sentences thread
the clever folk got it, always with ease
and replied with witty remarks
but i got confused: my replies, oh no! please!
i've not got the hang of this lark.
some noble man began a wise thread
everything written in rhyme
everyone liked it, but they all said
isn't this wasting our time?
Posted by WorkInProgress (# 3597) on
:
Young Sven, he ummed and aah-ed there
And drew his Snickersnee
Stoo let him loose, so they could fight
And he could issue mercy.
Round and round the rugg-ed deck
Our heroes bold both did rove;
First one was up, then one was down,
And on and on they drove;
On, through the watches of the night,
Both man and moose did fight;
Their swords rebounding from the o'rt
When slashed with all their might.
On through the wee small hours they went,
Where none could see their plight,
Until, at last, another came,
As it was getting light:
Posted by lanky_badger (# 3514) on
:
it was not 'alf bad, another coming
for as stoo and sven both wearied
from fighting now became confused
their hetero-sexuality queried ...
Posted by WorkInProgress (# 3597) on
:
The new one was a lady fair
She spoke to Stoo so soft
We'll never know what she did say
But we know she went aloft
Into the Crow's Nest she climbed up
And when she was ascended
She sent a signal to the crew
Re: where this journey ended
The crew aweighed* and sail-ed out
Upon the foaming deep
They left fair France and all her ports
Whilst they were still asleep
Young Sven, the moose, was not perturbed
By sudden change of course
He went on fighting with He'v'n's Stoo
Though he was losing force
And on and on, and on and on,
The two young men fought round
The mast and rigging and, to wit,
They did not make much sound
But Stoo was holding back his strength
For one, last, final blow;
He knew where-fore the Ship was bound -
Where Sven could never go
And so the Ship, she sail-ed on
(With Captain, crew and all),
Past lonely islands in 'La Manche**'
And through some minor squalls
At last they came to country fair,
And Stoo didst use his pow'r,
To force, at last, submission from
This moose he'd fought for hours
The city fair where they didst land
Was Dublin called, by name
This was the place where, the do say
The moose now has his fame
*aweighed = weighed anchor
**La Manche = the English Channel in French
Posted by sophs (# 2296) on
:
In this fair city Stoo did look
For both the moose and man
In all the pubs and all the bars
To find them if he can
So traveled he around the isle
Til saw he a field of gold
And standing there an Angel bright
Who told him the tales of old
Of shipboard hopes and shining stars
Of magi travelleling long
Of memories deep in every ship mates heart
When listening to the song
At once he knew this Angel fair
And reconised Miss Molly
The quest for Wood is easy now
Stoo repented of his folly.
To find great Wood, he knew now so well
Is easy if he tries,
For Molly Dillon is with him now
In all his Memories
(awful rhymes!)
Posted by lanky_badger (# 3514) on
:
Stoo looked out on what had passed
Looked over all his troubles
He welcomed here his newest guest
But was she Molly-coddled?
Posted by lanky_badger (# 3514) on
:
"Molly, what do you know of Wood?"
Stoo asked in polite tone
"All that i know", came Molly's words
"Is that he's not at home".
Posted by WorkInProgress (# 3597) on
:
Selah
Meanwhile our hero Belsar'us
Was taking forth his plight
(For Heaven was invaded by
A dark demonic sight)
He stood before the door he found -
It was both tall and wide -
And, trembling, he standed there
(For Erin was inside)
The wood was dark and old and stout;
No sound could pass its board;
Our hero bold, he look-ed up
And Bel said, "Oh, my Lord!"
And so it was that he did pray
Whilst kneeling on the mat
He thought about his mission
And held onto his hat
Then Bel decid' to enter in
And so beheld the croc
With leaden loop hung from its jaw
And Bel began to knock
"Fair Erin," said our hero bold,
As open crack'd the door;
He slipp'd inside the fortress great
And spoke to her once more.
"My lady, I have got grave news
No-one knows what to say;
Nor Hosts of H'v'n, nor Hosts of Hell
This monster now can slay"
Posted by sophs (# 2296) on
:
The Saintly host we must bring in
This Curse^d monster to slay
Brave Nunc, Fair Maddie, and Motherboard
Must come to save the day
Our Hero Bel did run to the Saints
And pleaded for their advice
Their request was fair but harsh to find
A moose, named Sven their price.
The whole ships fate rests on the Moose,
And Bel with Young Stoo did seek him
O'er hills and Dales, Fields and Towns,
They wandered 'til skies grew Dim.
Posted by sophs (# 2296) on
:
[Tangent]
The Angel did approch the throne
And in pleading the Lord did cry
"Sweet Lord,I pray, do this for me
And send some Angels down from High
Let Angels watch my nautical friends
And keep them close to you
Let them show Your love and life
In all they say and do"
(it was a boring lesson ok?)
[/Tangent]
In driving rain our Hero's met
In fields of Gold they stood
The angel departed before their eyes
And returne^d to their God.
Brave Bel didst tell Young Stoo the tale
Of monster and of Erin,
And they formed a daring plan
(Involving Sven and a bin)
Posted by lanky_badger (# 3514) on
:
It is lucky that my role in this
is just as an onlooker
'Cos i'm beating my head with my fists
to fit it in the cooker
nay! i am not mad, you see
but merrily confused
for the story has alluded me
so i'll resort to booze
(if i warm my brains somehow
by kneeling in the oven
it may melt away all my doubts
(it remains to be proven))
many questions vex my mind
who can give me answers?
(alas, we have not enough time
to illustrate with dancers)
who is the monster? where is Sven?
does Stooberry smell of guano?
can it be that Bel is fierce
and Erin calm as Bono?*
*the philosophical one of U2 fame.
[Iffy word for Heaven/Bad rhyme fixed in one fell swoop]
[ 06. February 2003, 03:24: Message edited by: Belisarius ]
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
If Robert Graves can be believed,
Our tale's birth isn't strange;
Old epics were all slowly weaved
From sources of far-flung range.
Bits and pieces not related
Need time to coalesce;
Interludes, when properly stated
Can add artistic finesse.
Our Shandean state, though, we will part
And turn we to the plot.
Twisting Sven's antlers Stoo wanted to start--
Belisarius let him not
"I've traveled far, young Stoo, to snatch
This Sven, a creature despised
But necessary to finance a match
Against foes not yet recognized.
"A force of great power threatens us all--
Its details we do not yet know;
But to bind all the Hosts under one clarion call,
Sven into barter must go.
Sadly, your quest for the whereabouts of Wood
Must go now on hiatus.
We must all join in the battle for Good--
Else how will posterity rate us?"
[ 06. February 2003, 03:37: Message edited by: Belisarius ]
Posted by lanky_badger (# 3514) on
:
(Iffy rhyme? Sir, I think not
Tho content strange I'll grant you.
Maybe I should look at what
The rules say that i may do.)
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
(It's cheeky fun, a brotherly snub,
But does it fit?--now there's the rub.
The rhyme would have been e'en more funny
Had the Bono called been Sonny)
Posted by WorkInProgress (# 3597) on
:
But back in Dublin, on the Ship
The Hosts begin to muster
(And when they all are gathered there
It will be quite a cluster)
When Bel and Stoo and Sven the moose
Arriv'd with Erin fair
The prize was solemnly pass'd forth
Unto the All Saints there
Then Hosts and Admins all alike
And Crew with Captain Simon
The Coot and Bel did tell the tale
With RooK and Sarky helping
They told of how, when late one night
All four had been reviewing
The posts and things respectively
That He'v'n and Hell need doing
A fearsome noise had all at once
Rent the air asunder
And all had come with swords now drawn
All four to face the monster
Their swords were all of diff'rent shape
And size and length and hue
(And Bel's sword, most bizarrely, was
Red, but glowing blue)
The fearsome four, they all marched out
And stood there side by side;
The patent need to face this beast
Their battle cast aside.
(I would love to stay and write about the beast, but my Home Group calls me... If the description's still open when I get back, I will though. Happy iambic heptameter and all that... )
Posted by WorkInProgress (# 3597) on
:
The beast was large and fearsome great
It roar-ed mighty loud
Its bellows, they did fill the Ship
And awesome 'twas and proud
Its claws, which rent the steel-hard hull,
Were long and slightly barbed
And if they struck towards the four,
These knew that they'd be scarred
The creature dark displayed its force,
Its belly grumbled sore;
It reared on hinds and flailed its arms
All six of them, or more.
The quartet saw to conquer it
They'd terr'ble be or mad
Between the four brave warriors
It would take all they had
When Sarkycow did strike it first
The creature then did howl
But Coot and RooK they flew at it
Before it much did howl
Bel'sarius did then join in
Into the great affray
And what there would have pass-ed next
I cannot really say
The Ship a grave great shake did give
And then she turned about
The creature evil seem did leave
All with a 'normous shout
And so it was our heroes four
(For all did risk their life)
Forgot their war and stood at hand
Together in the strife
And then they all didst go their ways
T'assemble all the crew
And Bel went out to find the good,
The one and only Stoo
When ventured all into this meet
To learn of this Ship's peril
The All Saints Hosts did pledge their word
To fight this bitter evil
And "All for one and one for all!"
There now rose up the cry
And said they too would risk their life
And fight the fiend or die.
(This may now seem a tad extreme,
My sensitive young friend,
But I would now remind you all
That good will win at end.)
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
"But where hence comes this odious foe?"
All the Admins pondered.
O'er many theories they did go;
Their intuitions wandered.
What rival websites had the power
And the bile and malice
To launch attacks at such an hour
So heavy and so callous?
"I didn't know they were so strong,"
Said Ruth, "but it might be
That group we've so often proved wrong--
Yes, the YEC!"
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
"The Crisis seems passed," said Hooker's Trick,
"We now can take a rest.
These trolls are enough to make one sick
E'en when one's health's at its best."
Meanwhile, Stoo was very near at
Square One of his noble quest.
What worries and stress such a state begat
Did not come at his behest.
Posted by lanky_badger (# 3514) on
:
And all at once, the way came clear
The foe Stoo had to fight
It was a useful search engine
Yes, a rival web-site.
"It cannot be", said Stoo, " For I
Have found this site most useful,
I do not wish to take it on"
(The site's name rhymes with dougal"
And so for reasons purely legal
We shaln't use the site's name
We shall call it after a beagle
'Dougal.com' (this is inane)
And Stoo stood up to face the great woofer
And wagged his finger at him
"You shall not win, I cannot let yer!"
And then he threw a bin
The bin didst fly and strike the dog
But Dougal shook it off
"Your torture is as futile as
A cockney speaking Toff"
Posted by lanky_badger (# 3514) on
:
I must apogise, I feel
For my apalling rhyming
But it seems to me that I
Haven't quite yet worked out what you're supposed to do with timing.
Posted by Stoo (# 254) on
:
A might confused was Stoo, and so,
Enquiring in a jiffy,
"Could someone help," he asked, "Oh, Oh-
My sight's gone rather squiffy.
"I know not what my quest is now,
Or whom it is I seek.
Might someone help me out?-- Oh, wow!
(My knees have gone quite weak!)
"What I need is some kind sir,
Or lady, to give me learning.
Please, summarise my quest thus far
And onward (Oh, my stomach's churning!)"
Posted by lanky_badger (# 3514) on
:
Dearly I would love to aid you
But as I stated previous
I know not what this plot has made you
Do, nor who is devious.
Nor who is good, for that matter
Nor who remains alive
Stoo, do not allow us all to prattle
Simply do a little jive
A quick dance of rememberence
Should bring the memories back
Then retell the tale with reverence
And put us back on track.
Posted by Stoo (# 254) on
:
So, Stoo danced to remember, and Stoo danced to forget.
Stoo danced in the courtyard and smelt of sweet summer sweat.
Stoo danced in the morning, when the world was begun,
And Stoo danced in the moon, and the stars, and the sun.
Stoo danced in the light, and was a dancer in the dark,
He danced in the river, and he danced in the park.
Stoo danced macabre, and he danced and led merry,
And many joined in the dance of the Stooberry.
Posted by WorkInProgress (# 3597) on
:
And then he hap'd upon a bard
Who knew the tale to date
But had not time to write now,
As she was running late.
And later on she may impart
The story unto Stoo
Unless of course she doth recount
Her work that's nigh on due
But now young WiP must run away
And go and find some grub -
Cos otherwise she'll famish'd be
When 'riving at the Pub.... ![[Ultra confused]](graemlins/confused2.gif)
Posted by lanky_badger (# 3514) on
:
From whence did Michael Flatley come
To disturb our jolly epic
And, no, was that a Christian hymn?
With lyrics almost heretic?
Posted by Joyeux (# 3851) on
:
"The monster-foe vanquished
'tis hoped 'tis for good,
Brave, bearded and famished,
Stoo still seeks Wood."
Thus spake a nymph passing
nearby to Stoo's home,
as he was then resting
ere he should roam.
Posted by Stoo (# 254) on
:
"Ah yes!", Stoo cried, and then fell over
(For he had danced all the way back to Dover)
"Phew! I am most knackered, what with all this dancing,
This jumping, jiving and merry prancing,
Here shall I rest, here down, I'll lie
And perhaps I'll close just the one eye."
And so our hero drifted off into the land of Nod
His quest once more gone and forgotten.
Who could tell how long he slept? Sure no-one else but God,
But while he slept, evil had evil forged and begotten...
Posted by lanky_badger (# 3514) on
:
a SHRUBBERY!
and the evil shrub didst grow
until it had consumed him
and when poor Stoo at last awoke
large rats, with flies around 'em
started gnawing at his feet
within the cursed bush
and chewed and bit upon his flesh
(more severe than a rash)
but Stoo fought on, and kicked and struggled
but they retaliated
at last, dear Stoo resigned; "Oh bugger.
These rats have dominated.
"What do you seek from me?" he quizzed
And by some evil magic
That rats replied, "Bring us Bucks Fizz!
All other gifts are tragic,
"We want to drink until we're drunk
And then we'll let you go,
and release the spell upon that bush
It no more shall be your foe."
Stoo handed over his supply
of the fizzy drink
"But one last thing!" the rats did cry
"Before you go, we think ...
"That you should do us one last favour
Or we'll place the curse back on you
This is a quest that you must savour
This is what you must do ..."
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
"The long-lost T&T Board is back,
Ris'n from obscurity.
There you must go, though its folk may attack
Your all-too-obvious purity."
Poor Stoo managed a virtuous blush
And tried not to be insulted.
Reluctantly he set for this land all-too-lush,
As escape from the Rats this resulted.
Posted by kenwritez (# 3238) on
:
Long he stumbled, weak and weary,
'Cross moonlit ruins so eerie,
Great ruined halls and moors quite icky,
Fume-choked truckstops and pecan logs sticky,
Crossroads and enchilling rivers deep,
Pimento cheese butties and lack of sleep
Plus loads of gin and Foster's at room temperature,
Strengthened his thews, no longer a caricature
Of a dissipate Shipmate, now he soared
Midst punts and sculls and ships long-oared
By Robert Cracknell's whatevers in Lycra*
(and YOU try finding a rhyme for "Lycra"!)
Until one setting sun day
Stoo painfully alights and asks the way
To the loo where his eye
Alights upon a smallish metal
Box, his breath stolen aweese
Upon opening it, he feverishly sees
It....
Posted by kenwritez (# 3238) on
:
* Please see "Married by SoF" thread and Go Anne Go's posts for explanation.
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
...is a breast pump! Stoo is confused
As to how this pertains to his quest.
But the tension created is far from defused--
He now is an unwelcome guest.
"How dare you!" the Amazon shout flies out;
Stoo starts and near drops his prize.
Before he has time to feel like a lout,
A womanly tribe meets his eyes.
"We are nursing Prime Ministers, bold-faced thief
Who threatens our livelihood!
From our wrath you will feel no relief,
You foe of the Common Good..."
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
Stoo tossed away the implement prized
And far away he ran;
He should, of course, have realized
The woes this tactic began.
The Nursing Prime Ministers screeched their ire
In cachophonic cascades,
Then proceeded to launch at the fleeing Stoo
Their scariest marital aids...
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
But the balmy air was suddenly cold;
The women cried out fear,
"Now is the time that was foretold,
When T 'n T would disappear!"
The Nursing Prime Ministers fled to a jet
That awaited their awful decree.
As it shot in air, Stoo felt his feet getting wet--
Soon he'd be under the Sea!
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
Fortunately there was in sight
An Ark of colossal size.
Stoo splashed toward it with all his might--
A race with Survival the prize.
Unfortunately, just as Stoo latched on
The barnacles and splinters in reach,
By a megaphoned voice he was set upon--
"Cast only, you paparazzic leech!"
Posted by Joyeux (# 3851) on
:
On Ararat the ark did land,
With only on board
The hosts all cheered John's victory
And returned unto this horde
They found no respite should they have
(They did much deserve one)
As lurkers, trolls, and shipmates all
Were posting still for fun
And in that fun a new challenge:
Lo! An on-line wedding
But not a dating thread, oh no
A game, couple and Rowan
(so the last rhyme doesn't really work... oh, well.)
Posted by Stoo (# 254) on
:
So Stoo prompt left the Archived Ark,
And trod his way forthwith,
Through murky waters, all green and dark
Armed with a breastpump, a song and a sieve.
(The sieve, he had stolen from aboard the vessel -
but he was sorry to forgo the mortar and pestle)
From in that fine boat, he'd also lib'rated
A packet of peanuts and a bottle of Pimms.
The peanuts were eaten, the booze all libated,
And Stoo swaggered his way to the meet of St. Sims.
Posted by Joyfulsoul (# 4652) on
:
Twas brilliant, and Stoo's slithy songs
Did echo and reverate in the water:
All mimsy were the bongs,
And in Stoo's pocket became it hotter.
"Beware the of the Jabbering, my son!
The words that bite, the posts that catch!
Beware the Cru-Sader Bird bird, and shun
The frumious Trolldersnatch!"
He took his magic sieve in hand:
Long time the maniac foe he sought --
So rested he while play on did the band,
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as Stoo sat on mushrooms stools,
The Trolldersnatch, with tongues of flame,
Came whiffling through the Ship of Fools,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The magic sieve went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
"And, has thou slain the Trolldersnatch?
Come to our arms, our beaming Stoo!
O fabulous day! Not a scratch!'
We chortled in our poo.
Twas brilliant, and the slithy songs
Did echo and reverate in the water:
All mimsy were the bongs,
And in Stoo's pocket became it hotter.
[ 09. July 2003, 23:01: Message edited by: Joyfulsoul ]
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
But what events at St. Sim's did occur?
Inquirying minds need know.
Answering Yours Truly must demur;
To more Stooish posts we should go...
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
Hosts of bright Heaven and treacherous Hell
Collided at this great event.
What was the outcome that such an odd spell
Of coexistence would present?
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
The lively Stoo gave a little cough
Before into his tale he dived.
But a blast of cacophany cut him off--
The Polyphonic Spree had arrived!
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
Stoo fled, but then on grass he tripped
Quite much to his dismay.
His elbows were skinned, his pants so ripped
That bruises they did betray.
"Now is all in chaos," he cried,
"Whatever shall I do?
Someone help ere my brains are fried
Or sink to primoridal goo!"
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
"Here I am, quick as rumour,"
A tiny sprite announced.
"Ooh, looks like God has a sense of humor,"
A second small entity flounced.
Another dismaying adventure loomed
Before the tiring Stoo.
To the Clichés Thread he now seemed doomed--
For an lengthy period, too.
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
The two sprites, though, then shrieked an fled--
The cause did Stoo overwhelm.
For lo, there loomed the Kitschmas Thread;
Muppet Jesus was at the helm...
Posted by Balaam (# 4543) on
:
Twinkle, twinkle little thread,
Now you're booted to the head,
Of the boards when culling's due,
Who could do it? was it Stoo
Or was it Belisarius?
(Oh, this timing makes me cuss)
The man who does the culling takes
The thread that bears his name and makes
It safe, Please tell me how to hide,
From a host with rampant pride.
[ 03. November 2003, 19:53: Message edited by: Balaam ]
Posted by sophs (# 2296) on
:
the story nearly finished it seems
buts questions still remain
like what did happen at st sims
and will good over come the pain?
The tales of a meet in yorkshire dales
and one of a belt that is green
and the ending of the arks fair travels
are stories yet to be seen
The st sims meet wherein was seen
such a gathering fair and bright
the hellish hosts from darkness met
their opponents from the light
from thus meeting a war did ensue
but hope did come from old
a hobbit, frodo was his name
carrying a ring of gold
he went unto mount doom to cast
the token to the flames
and wanted help of a wizzard bold
but could only find the host of Games
OH NO frodo cried oh woe is me
i'm in the wrong epic poem!
and so the hobbit schooted* off
and eventually got home.
There was no war between hev'n and hell
but mafia was played many times
and lovely cooking from the bear
made the meet ablsolutely fine!
I will leave the other tale to someone else
who can rhyme better than me
as late it, past the witching hour
and in bed i really should be!
*who says schooted isn't a word
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
So to this thread I'll be a friend
And save from one more prune,
As it deserves a splashy end--
I hope it's posted soon.
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
A thread neglected, posting-bereft,
What fate is appropos?
Once closed, an option in Heaven is left--
To the Resource thread it shall go.
One more journey this thread will brave;
Then it on my hard drive I shall save.
Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on
:
Rejoice, O aged wayward thread!
Behold, a new reprieve!
Instead of obscurity, Honor instead
In Limbo thou shalt receive.
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