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he trolls
Looking for prey and you pray
he stays away
Mr Positivo—oh no!
Mr Positivo
He exudes gnarly-cissistic flair
It’s no surprise that this guy’s
ego’s king-size
Mr Positivo—controls
Mr Positivo
At first he exerts positive vibes
You say “thanks” then joy he tanks
by insidious pranks
Mr Positivo—throws shade
Mr Positivo
Many love and adore this guy
He has them fooled his influence fueled
by charisma bejeweled
Mr Positivo—oh no!
Mr Positivo
Mr Positivo—controls
Mr Positivo
Mr Positivo—throws shade
Mr Positivo
Mr Positivo—stay away!
Mr Positivo
Pricklescoff sits at a Moses Toe
where two rivers meet
where two rivers flow
with one from his left
and one from his right
as he, a troll, sits at the point
where two rivers meet
on into the night
and see all the fish
stickleback, minnow
swim as he sits
at the Moses Toe
Based on the novella Where Two Rivers Meet, A Dark Romance Fantasy by Clive Culverhouse
in the graveyard on Halloween night
you are apt to see a scary sight
this evening a graveyard troll came by
he walked right past me and gave a “hi”.
It’s not Halloween, I thought, not feeling brave.
Where had he come from? was it that grave?
I said hi, he said, giving me a weird lopsided evil look.
I screamed, ran down the hill and fell into a cold wet brook.
gnarly snarly wharly harly barley troll
when we use his path, he demands a toll
When we protest, he hangs us upside down
The villagers come by and call us clown
gnarly snarly wharly harly barley troll
Humiliating us kids is his ultimate goal
He is good at it, an expert in fact; I know.
He has hung me twice by my largest toe.
Furzy the forest troll was stealthy, steady and shy
No one knew much about this stay-to-myself guy
His trips to the forest were made if no humans were around
Hours later his enormous footprints might be sometimes found
Furzy did not speak with the birds, fish, mammals or fey
If he sensed another large creature, he stayed away
His shyness was an asset that helped him to move without sound
Sometimes he pretends he is a bush, rolled up on the ground.
I've travelled the world in fifty days
I have pissed on every parade
my mind is bent
my fingers are numb
I will fight on with my thumbs
from place to place I roam
while never leaving home
A lone wolf in the dark
A lonely wall to leave my mark
as each day passes by
twiddling thumbs to pass the time
I've an excuse for every occasion
I've the story of my reputation
but as I slowly decay
my brain is rotting away
I can feel it each day
just another breath away
a pack of fools at my side
each night I prey
my gods are with me
or so they say
I lie awake each night
counting fights
on a bed of blood
it's all I deserve
for nothing I say
has any worth
she rebuffed his advances
he was more determined now
a horrible troll, a stalker, a misogamist
who thought what he wanted was of utmost importance
no matter who he had to violate, hurt, or abuse.
Through every field, copse, and wildflower,
Ran a little boy every happy hour,
Until, once, the troll king, ripe with power,
Imprisoned him in his dreary tower...
Never again, to see the light of day.
How ever hard the poor wee boy may try,
Or how many tears the angels might cry,
He'll sit in his cell and one day will die,
Before the mad, laughing troll's evil eye...
Oops, what do I hear the troll king say?
"How did the boy disappear and escape?",
He cursed and cried with his foul mouth agape.
I must tell you, he was bent out of shape.
He dissolved in a puddle, that hairy ape...
And the carefree boy will forever play!
Hunchbacked in a room, typing electric spells of doom,
breathing out fire, an alchemy of pain, suffering and desire.
Filtered beauty but oh, beneath, lies green skin and poisonous teeth,
with claws replaced by keyboard, where online posts replicate sword.
Eyes glassy, red with ire and fatigue; hate is sport, pole position in the league:
a troll swallowing prey in gigabytes whole; their innocence lost, our youth stole.
Languishing in liminal limbo
Feathers fray before striking harmony
Tidal waves in my brain have ebbed and
Flowed, expanded and contracted guiding
Wings of my astral soul across desolation;
Precursors upon mantles with no equal
Sentinels of sanguine, like the Kings Guard
Watching over my journey, Angels cradling
My thoughts and deeds push
Sometimes pull
The look on her face
Liquid
The Cardinals
Daybreak song!
Elk troll man slithers out of the crevices of the cave
the evening feels his emotions and responds accordingly
Slinking along the corridor of red canyon’s edges
We wise ones ignore him, for it is his fervent wish to be invisible
Sure, we see him but none of us speak of it, our tongues silent
Respecting his wishes, and fearing Elk troll man’s wrath
his lightning reflexes to be feared
In the green grassy field left of your eye,
a unicorn dances with a troll nearby.
A dance in harmony unlikely to be,
a mix of tapestry unlikely to see.
One craves magic and freedom, the other to destroy,
Yet tango they do, with chaos and joy.
Yet they twist, tango and play.
One potato, two potato, three potato,
and spin around the grassy floor!
Five potato, six potato, distractions picking up steam
the dance between an unicorn and the troll
might unravel a dream.
And round and round the chaos goes.
scrolling
trolling
clicking
tricking
to cheat
deceit
snitches
glitches
lame game
for fame
peeving
thieving
maybe
they’ll see
jester
fester
traitor
baiter
drama
mama
dressed in
satin
green grime
cold crime
loner
moaner
He is my good luck troll my grandma said.
If you want good luck, just rub his head.
She’s lost three sisters and a brother.
No thank you said my wise young mother.
Go on and give him a rub, grandma said.
He will like it, look, he’s leaning his little head.
She had been through eight disasters, plenty.
With luck like that, I do not want any.
schoolyard drama scene
unrequited love shamble
one calico tear
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