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Hacky Sack's Poetry Corner
by Lee 'Hacky Sack' Grim Vigilante Hear the angered call of a gun-wielding chap! Hear him as he fires at all evil! Hear him as he accidentally shoots a bystander! Hear- BLAM! - ...Oops... 16 times dead I've died more times than I count. It really sucks, sometimes. Four or five before breakfast. Ever since I joined that cat chick. Hell, the deaths aren't that bad. And I actually like the regaining of life... If you know what I mean. It's the fact that I lose all the food I've collected -whenever a mace hits me. Kathy's Poem (This here poem is one I wrote for Kathy a while ago- I really can't remember if it was for her birthday or for a contest... ah, hell with.) Roses are red, Violets are blue, Doughnuts are good, Now show us your Boobs. (I admit it's not my best.) Fun with bad mans en... en... guts! Yestirday wen mr. kiwiman let me loose I played and played and played Wyle a meen bad man... er... men sreamed and cryed Wyle I ripped ot there en... en... ent... uh... GUTS! So.. like... uh... Mr. womanman yelled at me Wiel mr. robotbug Was removing my klaw from his bum... heehee! Funny goldy bug man. But... like... whenever Mr. womanman yells at me For sumthing stooped... like peeing in her boots Sometimes funny mr. weesel and funny mr. yak man join us wen we beet up Bad men. Then they run in teror wen im don ripping The en... en... GUTS from the bad men. More Darkness, more Deepness, and a lot more Annoyance Snap your fingers if you're hip. Snap your fingers if you're cool. Snap your fingers if you're down with the Weasel. Cool dogs, Horn dog and Slut Puppy, always mixing it up. Naked dude, freak man, Buck Naked. Oblivious and good with it, Mighty Yak, always missing it. These cool cats, Tiger Lass, Hell Kitty, and Crushed dyin' and kill'n... bad guys that be. Dark... Deep... And a whole lotta annoyance. Evil of the Cities Hamsters... They're everywhere. They'll kill ya and skin ya alive before you could even say "Damn you, Hamsters!" There might be Millions of them... Or just the giant one... But in any case- ALL HAMSTERS ARE EVIL. These Hamsters cannot be stopped by the great Weasel Legacy. The great Man of Kiwis cannot hold them down. And turning them into doughnuts only brings about new problems. Dammit! O! To know who to write! The feelings, the thought! Should there be the Weasel in my next rhyme? Or should the Red one be known for her love of food? The many ideals of the land of Glory, Summed up in few short words! Can one tell the many tales of the Amazon with attributes of changing power? Can one... can one... Ah- tah' hell with it! If any of you mortals want me- I'll be watching Toonami. Dark, Deep, Annoying Weasel Boy... Weasel... Bunny... Weasel Bunny... Dehlila... CARRION! Dark... Iguana... Sunflower... Snap your fingers if you can feel the depths of The Mighty Yak... Click your heels if you're down with the cool cats, Tiger Lass, Crushed, Hell Kitty and a Sassy Sable Lass. They cool. They all cool. Dark... Deep... And damn right annoying... For the Night Four girls dancing the night away... One meets Buck Naked, and then there were three. Three girls, dancing the night away... One meets Horn Dog, and then there was two. Two girls dancing the night away... One meets Slut Puppy, and then there was one. One girl dancing the night away... She meets Weasel Boy, and there was still one. Potatoes ...Potatoes... Fried. Curled. French Fries. I love them all. I love it when they're all mashed. Filled with cheese and bacon bits. Covered with 'Shake Me' and chives. I love potatoes. Why is Tiger Lass nude? And what's she doing with that whip? One Crazed Vigilante They're laughing at me, aren't they? Blam! Are they mocking me? Blam! Do they point at me? Blam! My legend should be passed on. My heroics should be noticed. My legend to live on. My Guinness Body Count record to be unbroken. My grandson, greatest hero. My great granddaughter, greatest hero. My talking dog, greatest dog. Walking into the Shower I stood there, eyes wide open. It's Surprise... My Horror... Was it a He? The upper body... no. Was it a She? The lower body... no. I had fought many a battle from my start. I had seen many a horror that no prophet had even seen in his eyes. I had been to the next state of being many times. But no one... No one... should have seen it... NO ONE! ... ... But I have... Hair and all. I didn't need to see it before my date... Damnation Can't Be All Bad... The feeling... A sharp feeling of pain... A sharp feeling of pain surging through my body... A sharp feeling of pain surging through my body as another arrow piercing my gut. Numbness filling my left arm... Pouring into my chest... Creeping into my legs... Death's hand was on my shoulder. Coldness was all I felt on my face. Then... it went all black. I was back. Back in the temple. The temple of lives. And there I sat while those jackasses laughed their heads off. Bastards. Have You Seen the Eyes? Who here has seen the eyes? Who here has seen the force? Who here has seen thy plague? Who... out of each of you... has seen the force of the evil god? The god with skin of green... The god with hair of gray... The god... the god of darkness... Who here has seen red eyes? Who here has seen a black cape? Who here has seen the silver armor? Who... Who here... Who here has heard his name? Who here has heard the name of... Dark Iguana? Ah Hell Madness is with him forever. He hates them all. He surrounded by his life. He hates them all. He wins for losing. He loses to losers. He is feared. He is looked at. He only has glass. He is power. He is strength. He is the angst of the SEAS! But still... He's nowhere as scary as she is. I Run I hear her call... I run. I hear her walk... I run. To me, she's death. Her love scares me. She defeated my role model... I run. To her... We were meant to be together. To me... She is death. We move with the joy of fallen angels through our path A woman appeared over the old man; her eyes, lips, and hair as red as a freshly opened cut on ones finger. Her hair, dress, and crowlike wings were as black as midnight on a starless night covered with clouds. Her skin was as pale as fresh snow, not a hemper of bodily harm to her face. She wore gold earings that shimmered and shined. Her bloodstone necklace had its own warm glow to it, as did her eyes. At the time the elderly man was dying of his old age, a quiet death. At first, his eyes shot opened in fear at this winged woman, but now he knows who she is. Her, with that childish, yet adult face. Her, with that black gown that covered her legs. Her, with that long neck. He knew who she was then and there. She held out her hand as if to say "No more pain to you"; and he held out his to welcome hers. And she handed him the latest issue of Weasel Boy; And he died happy.
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