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Odd Verse
People react differently to different things. For those of you that have an Odd-verse reaction to Oddworld, this is the place to share your literary ponderings. Haiku, Sonnet, Lyric, Word Jazz, whatever your forte, bring it on-tre! If you'd like to submit Oddworld related fan poems or odd-verse, first read the legal stuff then send email to: Alf, for physical mailing address.
"Single blue hands shall bare the brands,"
And release the power to destroy false lands ... "
-Oddworld: Abe's Oddysee

Ode to an Odd Legend
by Sarah (age 18)

Work-shift starts after the sun sinks low
Behind iron spires belching smog,
Though never did it truly end
For those employed below.
The very air, a thick and greasy smoke,
Fueled bellow-lungs of those who toiled,
And scrubbed the bloodspots, (never to be unsoiled)
And pulled the levers-
Down came brutal blades to chop the chunks.
Of what? Wondered one worker, Abe
(I must add, he was employee of the year)
Whose large feet padded softly
Up to his bosses' door;
Big eyes peeped in to witness then the product that they bore.
Extinction running high, and profit low,
The Glukkon boss Mulluck proposed instead
A New N Tasty treat -
The worker's heads!
Abe gasped, mouth stretched in horror wide
And with him was us, a thousand throats that sighed
In sympathy - O' Abe! Run swift!
And run he did, dodging bullets wide along the way.
Abe, don't forget your fellows! Called we,
Worry not -- he led them far away.
"Hello." "Hello." "Follow me." "Okay!"

Past slaughterhouse's lethal sentries gone,
Through the stockyards under skies star-bright,
Chirping of lonely mines the only song
With creatures, desperate from their plight
Of being captured, chasing Abe,
Misguided vengeance on their minds
Until a jutting cliff he stumbled Ôpon.
Before him, a huge, full moon rose high,
Brightly glowing in the sky;
Imbedded there were craters' brands.
Fingers spread, our Abe looks at his paw,
Tentatively raises it-
Odd face marries with odd hand.

Crumbling, the stone beneath his toes is loos'd-
Abe has time only to glance at us-
And down he goes!
Like a rag tossed
Head cracked on outcrops thus
Until his body stills, splayed out below in dust.
Potent silence follows.
But Lo! A presence stirs within the mist-
A spirit? Nay, a bird-masked shaman
Who drew his staff through sand,
Lifted his upturned palms
And peacefully, Abe's body rose;
Thought through the ages spanned.
Life returned whence it had rightly fled
(As did our breath held in distress, mistaken him for dead)
While fingers of past's memory unfurled
Visions in his na•ve mind
Of history left far behind.
Creatures once worshipped roamed these lands
Choked now by industry's hands
Embodiments of both the day and night-
The mighty Scrab,
The clever Paramite.
With sting of bitter truth abating,
Awkwardly, he struggled, stood upright
To discover destiny awaiting
Inside their temples' hearts.
And slowly rose the sun,
Soft symphony of natural world begun,
Staccato of the insects, chirrup of spirit birds
Accompanied Abe's humble road,
Played off of ancient forms
Carved ages ago in mossy stone.
Along the way, upon he came
Two spider-spun old Wells;
Leads one To ancient woods of Paramonia,
The other,
Barren desert of Scrabania.
Which path he chose it mattered none,
Challenged both must be, and won;
In both will he pass through, rekindle flame,
And native songs will ring those brassy bells!

And once he's passed his test,
And just when Abe believes he gets a rest,
A scar is burned
On each hand earned
'' A token of the power in his breast.
So much has our hero grown!
Dear, goofy Abe,
Cowardly but brave,
Faced dangers of the wilds
Faced the fate his own
Which seemed Unbearable.
One heart burgeoned into knowledge
Bares the hope of all his race.

This alone was the beginning ... nay, was it the end?
Of Abe's adventures, far more is there to see.
And RuptureFarms?
In a slick, 'twas just one drop of oil
Sopped back from whence it came into the soil.
Before our eyes a whole world bloomed,
Beneath our fingertips-
Tenderness and tears,
Satire and fears,
And no small dose of laughter loos'd from we!
How now keeps Oddworld's Integrity?
Time pads by oh so sluggishly
And leaves a tender ache,
Our window painted over black,
With shudders drawn
In Abe's receding footsteps' wake.

--Now, Oddworld snatched a fleeting glimpse
Of its caring audience inside,
And nothing from its impressionable soul
Can from such a candid exchange hide --

Has now the fate been sealed
For corporate mechaspheres
With their Corruption, once revealed?
Can the worker's shackles be released?
(Thanks to nature's Sponsor, SoBe!)
Can Abe and friends repeat their old success?
(Nothing a vending product can't address!)
Can lives of natives play out in peace?
Nay; I fear to answer,
For even now they sit around their fire,
Wondering what is to come
Or, dancing their desire,
Beat their drum. -The End
Crig the Slig
by Barns from the UK

Crig the Slig,
Wasn't very big,
Sometimes thought he worked for a pig.

Sleeping on the job,
Even planning to rob,
his employer.

Posted at sloghut 102,
Turning many mudoken to sticky goo,
hey, they didn't pick up slogie poo!

But his time had come,
'cause he was rather dumb,
he went too near the recycler
and got turned into mush!

How about this for the start of Munch's Oddysee...
from a loyal fan, Matthew (England)

These two together brought by fate,
Peace on Oddworld they must Reinstate.
Against the Magog they must Fight,
For the tranquility is just out of site.
Glukkons and Vykkers do their evil deeds,
Wiping Oddworld of it's needs.
Abe is Tall and Munch is small,
Races combined they will never fall.
Mudokon and Gabbit together they stand,
Against the evil of Magog's Brand.
Together they fight until victory is done,
and they will carry on fighting till the war has been won.

A limerick from Bob.

There was a young Gabbit called Munch,
who met Abe and later, a bunch
of other Mudokons
who bankrupt the Glukkons,
so Gabbiar wouldn't be lunch.

Pugsli bandmember Craig sez " ... we were a fake joke dumb punk band and we would write songs just to piss people off ... so we used the Abe concept for one of our songs and then just did the same thing over and over again, eventually we'd get the whole audience singing along (through manipulation though ... we'd say we weren't going to stop playing the song until everyone sang the verse.) And of course then it was really funny, because no one knew what the hell we were talking about." A lesson can be learned here, folks. It's OK to suck as long as you use that special gift to torture others. In the meantime, come on, come on, follow me, OK! And listen to this little jewel of musical mayhem.  
"Hello Hello. Follow Me. O.K."

Perty little poem
by Sal the Mudokon.

Abe's Oddysee
The natives sit,
Staring at the stars.
Not knowing their brothers,
Chains and the bars.
Yet somewhere off,
In another land.
A savior's sky,
Beholds his hand.
But time will tell,
This hero's tale.
His fate as fickle,
As a blowing sail.
Swinging from directions,
East and West.
And unknowing of,
Its place of rest.
For rest is not,
A word for Abe.
He knows nothing but,
His fellow slave.
Whom is trapped alone,
In places rotten.
Punished for sins,
Long ago forgotten.
But forgotten sins,
Leave lasting marks.
Putting many in the,
Ruptured Farms.
Where they cut the beasts,
For a special taste.
But when testing comes,
Now Abe must face.
These creatures of dark,
And of little sight.
The amazing scrab,
And the paramite.
But there's never time,
For mere curiosity .
Not in this tale:
Abe's Oddysee.