Odd Verse
"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 Incomparable, 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.		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.