Best Bilbo Poems
Leonard Nimoy (Mr Spock),
His music career quite ad hoc,
Sang of Bilbo in sixty eight,
With his fringe still Vulcan straight.
Wielding a mighty axe
the leader of
the dwarves
came to a noble end
Yes, he was overcome
at first
by greed and lust
for gold
Yet his heart went out
to the doughty hobbit Bilbo
after the battle of Five Armies ended
He let his rage die
Yes, at first he was overcome
by his desire
for the gem of gems - the Arkenstone
Yet in the end he realized
that real riches
lie in friendship
the joy of time spent
with those we honor and trust
p.d.
Blackness crawls upon the pillow,
sidestep it, dodging like a willow,
play the game of 'me no never mind,'
see it stumbling far behind,
laugh in its face our Bilbo,
like....
"me no never mind"
Don
hold your breath as demons pass,
they can't enter, still as glass,
get a grip upon your soul,
outcast entitys till you're whole,
ah yes, alone at last...
p d's repulsive slumber
Art thou the wicked deceiver- who cometh dawn or dusk
Dweller in the heavens- who wrought scorn unto thy Creator
Cast aloft- becoming caddish as cag-mag- a drab locked away in Bridewell’s gaole
Grinder seeker- who stood a midst the knowledge tree and offered nary but one
One bite will make thee greater than He- one taste shall wit thy mind
Maker of gray betwixt black and white-a savory eater of men’s souls
Syllan thy lies for the Christ did rise for thou shalt tarry no more
Mote thy forkth tongue- shake-down thee to ever more hell
Henceforth to dwell ever the more ye will- in mere of fiery waters
Waiter of the wittle of Good and Evil- Forsooth! Forsooth! Thy dream
Dost not the coddish fear and tremble while thou holdth Bilbo high
Hearth lay thy saber- blood stained pudhly with the souls of mankind
Monstrous shadowed deceiver- no longer doth the grave highly boast
Beautifully bequeath a love of mankind- a son of David- the Christ did rise
Resist not the righteous-the judge of Adam sits at the Creator’s right side
And thy kingdom shall tarry no more-no more
And Thy kingdom shall tarry no more
Art thou the wicked deceiver who cometh dawn or dusk
Once a dweller in the heavens who wrought scorn unto thy Creator
In the ancient of days did he cast thee a loft
Thus becoming caddish as cag-mag
A drab locked away in Bridewell’s gaole
Whilst thou parlayed the garden’s bouquet as the Grinder Seeker
Who stood a midst the knowledge tree and offered nary but one
One bite will make thee greater than He
One taste shall wit thy mind
Maker of gray betwixt black and white a savory eater of men’s souls
Doth thou cometh this blackish hour to carry my wicked soul home
Sheath thy forkth tongue
Shake down thee to ever more hell
Henceforth to dwell ever the more ye will
In mere of fiery waters
Waiter of the wittle of rotten and Evil- Forsooth! Forsooth! Thy dream
Dost not the coddish fear and tremble while thou holdth Bilbo high
Hearth lay thy saber- blood stained pudhly with the souls of mankind
Thou monstrous shadowed deceiver
Mankind no longer doth the grave bind
Get thee behind me Satan
For thy Kingdom is no more
A son of David hath beautifully bequeath a love for all mankind
Resist not the righteousness this judge of Adam
Who doth sit at the Creator’s right side
I stand in judgment as my soul is the bounty
For now thy claim for my-self is thus been denied
With a golden nape, that area on the neck’s rear,
And a silent voice, excluding some chirps and stonks,
Speaking only to young, or between two or some in flight,
The golden eagle exudes those qualities that make humans right.
Flying maybe seventy-seven miles from their nest,
With wings up-turned in a V-shape for dynamics,
Which make a plane with the tail, aerodynamically set,
At a speed of one twenty mph without acoustics.
Open areas of nurturing native vegetation,
Make a home and life for development and tangle,
And mountainous rock regions find them hunting,
Bidding for rock pigeons and raven to mangle.
They devour creatures of the hair family fair and square,
And ground squirrels, grouse and pheasant they tare,
They’re not scared of deer, lamb, pigs or wild boar,
And sheep to them are a massively wide open door.
They have a dark brown body with feathers replaced annually,
Falconry is rife, and they get prestige from indigenous America,
Mentioned in the Torah, and the Old and New Testament fair,
Tolkien used it in an illustration to symbolise Bilbo Baggins air.
I Wanna End Me
It’s chill dawg. I’m just a savage. Gotta take that redpill homie. Two squared. Remember the illusion and have a giggle. No need to pout. It’s just a lil fun and games. Haha. Paint me like one of your Trojan horses. Why be sad that I’m returning home soon? Big bad voodoo daddy. Let me know. New Orleans. It’s likely that I’m a sociopath. But what would it matter? Chairs don’t sit, so why would I let the thought do so?
Mcguffins. Pilgrims. Plow rainbow serpentine. Turps. Wax on, doze off. I wanna kiss Billie Eilish. Her dead inside look matches my ensuite. Reckon she’d carry a lot of Bilbo baggage. As do thee unto mishaps. Perhaps. Hmm. Plausible. Ocean endeavours. Funny to think she’s younger than me. Origami. Murmur more peasant.
No board here. Rest easy mudblood. Whichever jumbo cup, always worth the diabeetus. Science, beach. Card master rates, deep down low. Don’t watch on acid. Reads palsy palms. Muster the leap of faith. Sow the famine field of bliss. Certified manga madness. Mango? Two for five dollars. Get like forty of em’. Fiddy bucks. Lez go. Who the hell are ya? I wanna know. Who do you think you are? Coming round here. Fancy pants.
Route 66 roadtwister? I don’t think so mister. Haha. Fly away. Debate the ways of the flying dutchman. Fly over yonder with thou stout in hand. Bound for the beasts riches in tires. Burnt rubber smells so good, not as good as keytamine. Tammy you little dinglebat. Rest easy little nymph. Driftking stands for doorokrats. Laundries. Coin? Denary. Tugboat the infestation. Retribution. Mortify. Grrrrr. That’s a growl. I don’t care. Zoo wee mumma. Throw that little Rat in a tub of acid. That’s nuts.
If deserted, was I, on an island, and was allowed only three integral items to take with me, what would they be?
If we are speaking of material things, I suppose I would take my favorite book in the whole world, "Ask Dr. Mueller" by Cookie Mueller. It is a book I cherish, and can read perpetually because it's just that good.
If, by some strange coincidence, there happened to electricity on the island, and an old, abandoned, yet functional CD player just so happened to be found, then I would want my favorite album in the world with me: "Live Through This" by Hole. I worship Courtney Love and her music. She is a grunge Goddess to me. I love every song on that album.
If pen and paper could magically count as just one item, then I would take mountains of paper and a plethora of pens so I could record everything and continue writing poetry while hoping to be rescued.
My acoustic Gibson Epiphone means the world to me; I cannot imagine not having it with me. I know how to play all the songs off "Live Through This", so perhaps I would choose my guitar instead; that way I can still enjoy those songs as I still compose more of my own; that makes sense, right?
If, by Divine Intervention, there was an abandoned, yet functional TV and DVD player, I would have to consider taking all seven seasons of "The Golden Girls"; I don't think I could survive without the Golden Girls; it's my favorite show ever. And also all of the "Star Wars" movies; those I cherish, too.
And also, since I am an addict/alcoholic, I would want to take tons of pills, whisky and Cola with me; I'm sure I could not survive without those.
I understand that perhaps people or pets may not be considered as "items", but if I could choose among them, well, I would have to take my loving partner, my best friend of twenty years and my two dogs, Sammy and Bilbo, and my three kitties: Marley, Archie and Punky (of course I count them all as one because I like to break the rules).
Since there are so many things I do not think I can live without, it's an impossible decision. But these are my considerations, nonetheless.
*What Would You Take Contest Entry
10-11-13
That we love is unquestioned, not a point of controversy,
Our marital or partnership ring is personal and never mandatorily issued;
Youth lets us find it in order to keep and hand it on a generation,
As it symbolises our joy, contentment and exhilaration.
When we are lonely or selfish in our relationship with the other,
The ring on our finger inspires with platitudes which save,
From ourselves or society’s fashionable, glamorous glaze,
To treasure the person that we love, until we are for them brave.
When Bilbo embarked on the journey to retake his land,
He found a ring which he felt so personally attracted to,
And so kept it for the use, meaning and magic that did from it emanate,
‘Cos its semiology was his cosmology as its sign was life immaculate.
But when he approached his land, a dragon claimed it so,
Which made Bilbo consider his strategy and individuality,
And when he actioned the ring, strength was his reality:
He only had to think about or touch it, and so upheld it in supremacy.
Our symbol of the ring for love alludes to a greater ring,
A friendship ring to admire and like, and maybe to suggest and fight;
If someone’s land is his or hers, and is not, it means evil lurks,
So Bilbo invigorated love’s power to kill and vanquish this night.
Smaug the dragon held evil and torment in his breath,
Fiery and without request of light, gumption or relationship;
Bilbo even calls himself a bulgier of its world of hardship,
Slavery, murder and creatures of all-consuming darkness.
The physical ring only facilitates the person to aspire,
But in Bilbo’s time it was in danger of falling into the wrong hands,
So Bilbo allowed Smaug’s hell-pit to thus consume the golden circlet,
Such that all that was left was those who accept love’s commands.
That killed Smaug and the origin of sin and immorality,
‘Cos to posses the ring is not to necessarily to honour it,
So when Bilbo returned home from his adventure,
His life continued on in his nephew’s by his conjecture.
About Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit adventure.
As the summer sunlight hits
the surface of the lake
I am transfixed by a million kaleidoscopic
sparkles making the water look like
a silver-blue satin sheet
complete
with thousands of winking diamonds
upon it strewn
like some cosmic boon
an ethereal treasure
a dazzling gift of the fickle Texas weather
causing my eyes to squint
from the overwhelming glint
though I try to keep them open
pupils coping
because the ambiance is magic
so brief, it's tragic
the lake seems like a living creature
a silent preacher
reflecting the wonder of God...
I start to nod
as I feel my skin bake
regardless of the claims they make
surely this must be healing
this wonderful feeling.
I breathe deeply and clear my throat
as I note
out of the corner of my eye
a brilliant green-blue dragonfly
wings beating at lightening speed
hovering over a stand of reeds
like some kind of prehistoric chopper
only...elegant and proper.
I marvel at the aerodynamics of
this minature flying myth
proving dragons still exsist
as it darts and then hangs suspended
irredescently splendid
as God intended
suddenly flying in reverse
(physics be cursed)
then warp-speed ahead and
my body feels like lead
as a thought crosses my drowsy mind
wondering if, at a certain time,
they were descended from dragons,
thinking of Bilbo Baggins...
or maybe they're aliens come to invade
not realizing
until they arrived the
mistake they'd made
on the matter or sizing
for, if they were larger, like
planes, if you will,
we'd all be transfixed
by their flying skill.
So maybe they're tiny, frustrated invaders
living like traitors.
I focus now on the whirr of it's wings
and the lullaby it sings
finally surrendering
and my last conscious thought
that my psyche reveals
is that
this must be
how happiness feels.
The Dodo, it’s curious
Lived down in Mauritius
A bit east of Madagascar,
You can’t get there with your car.
It’s an island, and it’s quite remote
But you wouldn’t need an overcoat
You won’t get there with your time machine
Unless your machine floats.
Right off the Indian continent,
If a Dodo was incontinent
What would he wear not to spill content?
Well, that just Depends…
‘Cuz how would they pull them up,
Or change them when they’re full up?
A question supposable
When they haven’t the opposable.
A question pretty clumsy
And I'm just all thumbsy
And it doesn't matter, 'cuz they're all extinct,
I just know that it stinks.
There’s one thing I’m sure I know
If I had a pet Dodo
I might call him Bilbo
But more likely it would be Frodo
And I’d have me a hobbit hole
For all of those Depends, you know
And that's where all the dirties go,
And I’d call it Bag End.
H/T to Terry Flood’s Do Dodos Do Doo Doos
When my parents
returned from England
They brought me
a leather bound copy of the Hobbit
Now it sits proudly
on my bookshelf
What a fantastic story!
Full of hobbits, dwarves, goblins
wizards, orcs . giant spiders,
elves and Beornings
Imagination is ones'
key to a joyous life
The book has inspired a
multitude of poets, writers,
and yes - dreamers
As for myself I feel it
is an example of wonder
which is something we
are all in need of
in these dark and troubled times
So, friends - re - read the Hobbit
rejoin Bilbo and company
and take joy
from the existence
of Middle Earth
Believe me - I am not the best Jew in the world
I have read AJ Heschel though
Who marched with MLK
Nice to have peace between the black and Jewish communities
One of my first girl friends was an Afro American
She pretty
But we were both only 16
Recently I was "dumped " by a Jewish chick
Well, she is not into poetry too much anyway
I am not Bilbo Baggins
Don't live in a hole in the ground
Perhaps I can find my soul - mate here is the Big Apple!!
Or perhaps not
Keep writing verse all you out there in the darkness!!!
They were a battle-hardened Race
Due to the ire of a dragon they were displaced
With a boom thunderous and loud
At the Gate, it knocked while they stood proud
The Dragon took their home away
Many a Dwarf we lost on that day
As he looked to the ridge for a sign of hope
The Elves turned their backs and were no help
For many years his thoughts did dwell
On that day when his kingdom fell
He labored smithing in the city of men
To provide a life for his Durin Kin
Years would pass and there he'd be
He would meet Gandalf in the town of Bree
A map and key only known to him
The great Istari deemed a quest to begin
thirteen dwarves assembled to go
In the home of a Hobbit named Bilbo
Off to the east, it was their plan
over the wilds, their journey would span
Given to Him by Gandalf the Grey
this Map they learned spoke of Durins Day
The key presented had a use as well
A door it would open and then there'd be hell
The long awaited day would come
Return he would to the place he was from
Crossing the Mountains they were captured by a foe
Trapped they were with nowhere to go
In the nick of time Gandalf did appear
If he had not arrived there fate would have been severe
Down the Mountain, they all fled
Pursued Now by the Orc of dread
Cornered they were in the trees they fled
As Thorin's fury grew be began to see red
He rose on the trunk with no word said
His only thought he wanted Azog dead
With fierce determination, he ran headlong
for his vengeance, he could not prolong
Before he could strike Azog got the jump
Down to the ground, Thorin fell with a thump
Almost lost him was our fear
But under his breath a spell we could hear
Gandalf returned our King to me
And then on the horizon our home we did see
bilbo baggins bop
middle earth menagerie
ringmaster Galloum prowls his loss
Sharoun's fire eye tracks the prize
Crack of Doom awaits