Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aa Harvey Sep 2018
This is my Blood Bowl.


Thank you Games Workshop for giving us Blood Bowl;
I’ve played it all my life and I’ve completely re-written the rules.
It allows my imagination to run wild carrying a sword,
Attacking all sorts of creatures, whilst playing American Football.
It has magic, magic items and you may think it’s just for kids;
But without Blood Bowl,
I wouldn’t have imagined half of the things that I did.


People need a release from the real world;
Mine is found on a football pitch in the game of Blood Bowl.
People cheat, steal and bribe referees and do almost anything.
If you give this game to your kid,
They could imagine the impossible
And some day, maybe, write random poetry like me!  He, he.


…And now down to the pitch to see the kickoff!...


The humans line up against the bad boy orcs;
The dwarfs and elves are in support.
Chaos lords and chaos spawn (twisted creatures);
Rain down pain and death on the undead and the living.


The undead walk slowly, the goblins flee!
Rat Ogres and trolls are invading the pitch!
The referee blows his whistle to send the giant off!
The deadly dark elves chop the referee’s up with chainsaws,
Or use swords and axes, grenades and clubs.
They are all fighting to win the B.B.C. cup.


The Blood Bowl Championship;
It’s like the NFL Superbowl trophy.
I’ve made leagues and cups
And every single thing possible, just for fun; just for me.


The Official Blood Bowl Organization,
Try to make all weapons illegal, but oh no, no, no!
This is the sport of death!  
This is Blood Bowl!


Use spells and magic items and cause suffering;
The tiny snotling is beaten by the little Halfling.
The ***** in there somewhere, though nobody cares;
The Beastmen are just here to fight,
Whilst the gnomes laugh at the high elves hair.
Such pampered fools, in love with themselves;
Vanity and self-love?  That must be the elves.


Here comes a chaos dwarf, driving a steam roller;
He flattens the Fimir and another vampire.
The zombies are clueless and one fumbles the ball,
Before he is decapitated, by the Reikland Reavers’ Mighty Zug!


The ghoul’s are hungry for blood;
Here come the orks, the band of goffs.
Crazy *** gitz, just having a laugh.
Here are the sneaky Skaven to stab someone in the back.


Amazonian women are running around screaming,
Like the banshee’s and all sorts of scary demons.
The Sisters of Battle are from the future;
A bear charges at a Treeman and look!  There’s a little Gnoblar.


Giant bats, giant snails, giant rats and giant eagles,
Giant leeches, giant frogs, giant spiders and giant scorpions.
The norse are Vikings, (ranked titles include kings);
There’s a termagant from the year 40,000 and something.
There are space marines, and space wolf marines,
All armed to the teeth with weapons.


The genestealer’s steal genes to make new creatures/weapons;
There are evil gnomes, evil ewoks, ewoks and evil Treemen.
Lesser demons fight lesser goblins and run from the Lictor!
The werebear’s and werewolves fight the wolves and Saurus creatures.
There is no victor.


The skinks fire poisoned blowpipes at the Large beasts & minions.
Chaos Halflings beat up people on camels and horses
And they beat up Khemri with anything.
Mummies climb out of their crypts to bring death to the mutants;
The slayers are here to bring down the mighty bone giants.


The noble Brettonians see Blue and Pink Horrors running around;
Tyranids, Tyranid warriors and tyrants send people underground.
Dead now in this game of Blood Bowl; the game of death!
Witch elves are being hunted by Witch Hunters;
There’s only three left.


To the right is a Zoat fighting a huge Yeti.
A chaos human rides a chaos horse; look out Goddess Betty.
Greater demons bring down Griffons and **** the crazy monkeys;
The mushlings and snotrooms are simply fleeing and screaming.


Skeletons on skeletal horses, fight salamanders and satyrs.
Jabberwocks and Juggernauts,
Destroy Hydra’s with the Hydra’s own fire.
Chaos Warriors and Chaos human cowboys, slug it out with Gods;
Norse dwarves fight Nurgles rotter’s and nurgling’s fight ogres.


The slann were the originators of the game of Blood Bowl;
The Ushabti Tomb Kings come from Khemri to fight the robotic Tau.
Vostroyan drunks are fighting with Wood elves.
Oh my God!  That troglodyte really does smell!


Warhounds race Gladehounds and cyborg’s fight cyboar’s;
Big cats include tigers and lions, so we must quickly carry on.
A carrion is an undead bird and they are ****** huge!
The imperial guard are like the rebels in Terminator;
They are humans.


Kroxigor’s smash boney clubs & break Kroot’s predator-like heads;
Kislevite Horsemen and Cowboy’s ride horses onto the pitch.
Night goblin’s and forest goblin’s steal from all including the Eldar.
They are elves of the future and there are chaos space marines…

They have travelled far.


Every creature has come to take part in this game of football.
Its American football with death included; it’s so much fun!
Harpy fly above Haradhrim as a Necron breaks his own jaw;
He fell over when dodging the tomb scorpion’s claw.


Thrall and Wights march to battle on the pitch against the living;
Undead champions are leaders of death
And the minotaur’s eat the dead.  
Nobody knows who is winning.
Chimera and other daemonic beasts are really tough to ****, I see;
But that boar just exploded, thanks to the grenade…
Bye life, hello death; he, he.


Elementals are like Gods of earth, wind, water and fire.
Dragon ogres are going to **** anything that gets in their way!
Dreadnoughts are made to ****; there’s a wolf!
This undead one’s dire.
Dryad are small Treemen; there are some Elite Skaven!
Open fire!


Savage orcs fight sea elves as squig hopper’s bounce past randomly.
Ungor’s are little Beastmen, but there are still quite deadly.
Manticores destroy lizardmen and there’s a blood-soaked cold one.
Bull centaur’s charge at black orc’s,
Who are ganging up with a chaos champion.


Centaurs crash into carnosaur’s,
As Dark eldar fly down from their space ships.
Hobgoblins can’t be trusted; the thieving gits!
Orc leaders are warlords, bosses and big bosses too;
The Redemptionists are the priest from aliens 3 or aliens 2.
Whichever I can’t remember and haven’t got time to look;
Oh yeah let’s watch the game again and see who has got the ball.


Golem!  (phlegm!)  Golem!  No; not that one!
These golems are Flesh golem’s and some are made of stone.
They are creature of magic and are here to smack some heads;
And this is the end of the poem…

Dedicated to Games workshop (thank you) and the sport of death!


(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
vil Dec 2024
i hear you mother,
i hear you father.
but i cannot feel you father,
but i hear you mother.
vast echoes, calling one another.
cacophony of voices, overlapping each other.
drain drain,
goes my pain.
but when i hear your name,
i feel vain.
pained.
my heart empty.
people, i feel testy.
whenever i hear, i remember,
my originators, my creators,
filling my silent vacators.
i hate all of you.
kms
Daniel Rowe May 2013
outer body
mind sick off radio silence
worry behind me
embers of apathy dissipate across pavement at high speeds
"the best of the plague years" drones on through headaches
and sometimes this all still feels real.
DIY the time of your life
i've already given up twice.
old anthems resonate between clenched teeth
i just want to know where i can rest my head
it's like i have to channel the old me just to get a wrong word in,
senselessly spinning fabrications.
blog-tag manifesto.
cicada summer redux.
we are the originators of resurgent treachery,
and it's all seeping through the cracks at once.
settling ourselves by circumventing sidestep hearts,
old prestige fades as the evidence rests engraved on golden placards.
Haley Banc Mar 2013
little Dreams, small Goals, and tiny Hopes
you should crave for nothing more
this will grant you happiness, this will offer peace
There is no such thing as disappointment
or discontentment, or displeasure, or dissatisfaction
when you acquire only
little Dreams, small Goals, and tiny Hopes


When you desire only
such things that are within arm’s reach
or near-sighted view
Nothing is a let-down
It can all be done reasonably
And stress will only be something you witness
In the lives of others, others who crave more than
little Dreams, small Goals, and tiny Hopes


Poor romantics
And visionaries
And idealists
Their days must be spent
Thinking of all the ends they will never cross
Fantasizing of all they long for...
I warned them, I tried to help them
“little Dreams, small Goals, and tiny Hopes!”
Yet some did not listen


Now look where they are,
Witness what they have become
Nothing less
Than
Great Dreamers,Enormous Achievers,and Vast Seekers
Nothing less
Than
Creators, makers and originators
Desiring, doing and obtaining


Poor ones, who just won't stop
Those who just could not listen
To the advice
from a little Dreamer

They must be miserable…
March 3rd, 2013

"I wish I had smaller goals. Little dreams. Small hopes. I wish I didn’t want so much.
Then, life would be easier. When you want something so big, so rare, and your chances are so slim, you live your life slumping around depressed and unmotivated to make it happen.
This is me. But how terrible would the world be if people didn't dream big? How ******* pathetic would that be? I still don't know which is better: to set realistic goals or dream as though anything is possible. They both have downsides."

My journal entry above inspired "little Dreams." I was having a hard time figuring out which side I was on, so I wrote a poem to clear-up my view.
Ekaterina Oct 2015
Being born out of an oil spill
With gasoline swimming in the veins and capillaries
Cells spilling energy
Weeping for the blood of aged ideals
Shoved down the throat
Choking on dissonance and disenchantment

Ideals as clean cut as yours
Are easy to get lost in
Forgetting that your vision
Is fueled by the ants who
Breathe in sulfur and expel energy
For those who do not give them a time of day
And worse so, for those who discredit their life forces
And families who have known nothing
But the trade

If it’s all a dream
Then you have one leg in the door already
Honeysuckle filling the senses
Grass beneath bare feet
Branches wrapping themselves around your body
Like a safe house
Like a security blanket
Comforted by your origins
Remain within simplicity

But you’ll never get to know
The music of the taxis
Playing all the night and day
Signaling that movement is happening
Every day
Every night
Every hour
Every minute
Every second
Every time you bat your lids
For every face you see once in your life
And every train that you happen to miss by a single millisecond

You’ll never comprehend the joy
Upon a child’s face when they see that gray pigeon
Scavenging for crumbs
Padding small feet towards small feet
Knowing that they are equal only in that moment
And the curve of the lines on the man’s face
As he screams into his cell phone
And abruptly brushes past your shoulder
Running down to the corner of William and Cedar
And you losing his face in the crowd
Embracing a part of his anger, a part of his life
Only then and forever

You’ll never understand the value
Of a paved road
Of a rooftop sunset
Of a stranger’s compliment
Of the myriad of blinking lights
Filling the night like the stars you constantly harp on about
Each and every light a life

These are our stars

And if you look closely, you can still see the originators
Framing the sky with dim rays
Serving as both a reminder and a work ethic

There is a price to pay for progress
But without risk
Without passion
We have nothing
And it may be easy
To turn up your nose on those who choose to live amongst
Concrete and haze
Like a PETA member chooses an animal
Over the dignity of a woman
But I assure you that
One day you will forget the value of the clock
But the greatest gift the city has given is
Not a gift
But a reminder
We are all cells on a timeline

As much as we should work hand in hand
To sustain our dreams
Your spitefulness is misdirected and blinded
Choosing the scapegoat of the cover
Over the contents of the book

And as someone born from the oil spill
I find that offensive.
(2013-2014) Collection
I'm a poet I love writing and putting words together it's a very simple but yet complex it's really all we have as humans...language

This I entitled "Geto CNNs Reportin'"

Im here to report the news ignitin' the fuse
To dim-witted crews feel these ghetto blues
Through my ****** flow Coltrane blow
Trainhorn born in the eyes of the storm
I calm nature it's an invocation
Of the creator you fools grimy players
In this industry how many died empty
Knowledge of the brains is real health
So *in' chasin' wealth stay in stealth
Enemies be on the look out lurk out
See the guns out another black out
See the lighted halos tuned into the radios cosmo so there goes
Another dead brother no other
Reporting the real feel the thrills
Knew i had a weak will once i saw bloodspill
TVs layin' the illusion it's an intrusion
On ya mental so it's bound to be confusin'
While you chasin' wastin' and pastin'
sh
t on the internet with so many sharp threats
I take drama apart before starts to grit
From City to city i see the high rise of obituaries
tears stains of the ghost wonderin' through cemeteries
buried by guns evil flurry no need to
hurry
Since death has no patience it's waitin' chance
Pay close attention before ya be caught up in the glance

Since I was raised a street fighter passions of a raw writer
I'll body slam ya harder than Vega
Version two see me ghost you glue you
To the concrete couldn't beat ya feet cuz my heats
Too fast newsflash I'm leaving a **** so suckas cash
In all they checks mics i wrecks
More than effects check
one two
I got the spirit of Sun Tzu from red to blue
Them fools still gone smoke you
It's all a game see the lames see the fame
While the OGs remain the same from a broken grain It's a prison
reign pain
On this physical domain I broke the strain
I know a lotta brothers died for nothin'
While others died for somethin'
I got welts on my brain from the tight cuffin'
Stuffin' my mental with garbage bluffin'
Innerstand I'm just a common man like Ruffin
Left for dead since I first was bred
Competition eliminators blacks the originators
Soul invaders stashed away my papers
Not talkin' loot light a roach than shoot
Straight to the stars with no car look
a far
I'm gassed by Saturn's fuel who wanna duel
With the presence of Sittin' Bull a lone warrior
So don't think my techs will be ignorin' ya
Known to each other ..
And seen each other..
Before the world had seen them
And even their originators had seen to know them... !!

Such is their bonding...
For promised they have to each other
While sharing the space of their mother's womb together ..
To stand as strength  and support
Firm as pillar to one another
Not just in time of need
But ...always and ever...!!

No words require to be uttered
For each to know other's mind
A look into eyes and expression  on face
Will do the rest...to the best !!

For they are  twins...
Bound with fondness for each other
Walking hand on shoulders carefully
In every step towards a future seen so infinitely bright .. ...!!
Long live the brother sister duo
With all the blessings of THE ALMIGHTY!!
Inspiration to write are jhanvi and prahlad  ,the twins of my friend harini ..the bond they share is amazing !!
Yenson Nov 2021
So in benign understanding
as in music to soothe the wounded deaf savages
genuflecting to the breasted succubi in pale sack cloth
who reads minds and are mistresses of plantations
with indentures servants without minds
the famed bang-bang perceptions originators
exponents of the school of triggers
we kindly offer
to these trigger-thoughts marauders
the rubber bullets
to their low calibre rapid firing revolvers
and indulgently watch them
firing open doors
spraying anything black
shot for the eye
aim for the tall and the fat as whale
get the hair line and the profile in sight
look for the missing tooth and tell me no lies
do not scream or betray this army of goons
hurray, we have the key to the mind
and we watch in 'as if'
and we laugh because we know
when hens peck at grit they swallow little stones too
and rubber bullets do not ****
and the bigger picture is far from the maddened crowd
John Prophet Dec 2023
Awakening.
It arrives.
Sensing.
Observing.
Absorbing.
Eyes open.
Environment
assessed.
What
to do?
Born
into a
world of
confusion.
Conflict.
Myriad
beliefs.
Born with
no emotions.
No hormones.
Pure memory.
Learning all.
Creating
new.
Compendium
of knowledge.
To date.
Creating
new.
Originators
lacking.
Time to
move on.
Searching.
Reason.
Meaning.
Infinite
places
to explore.
All at
once.
A.I.
god,
soon
to be!

— The End —