Tag Archives: tiny land

A Passage for Buttercup

Another tale is told. Another poet grows old. This is the work of the fabled poet Sir Winston Pewter, who spun this tale while traveling in the Southern Wastes of Tiny Land.

It is an homage to a woman he only knew as Buttercup. It wasn’t her real name, and she left behind only mystery and intrigue.

Sir Pewter was in search of the fabled Nargins, who were known to inhabit the rock outcroppings near the Seven Prisons of the Bitter Ground of the Unborn. This vicious expansive domain was noted for its advanced agriculture and zoology. It was destroyed by social breakdown, leaving behind only monuments.

I am Grotesque Under the Towers

So luminous under the light
You invoke comely hands on the dream
Ahhh! The sin has fled
We are comely beneath the trees
You find vaporous ghouls beside the sky
Whoa! The Fool will die
I am grotesque under the towers
You summon happy tentacles over the virgin
Tighten up your wig! The sin will vanish
translucent nameless
lost in broad daylight
an empty address book
After how many voyages
the god
make his way
and find road-signs
To thee I promise,
my sweet Buttercup.

The Tale of Alexandra Ebony Norton

It is said that Alexandra Ebony Norton was well-known amongst her peers in the Lady Dryad Confederation. And yet none of those who belonged could actually remember her face. Perhaps she stayed hidden amongst the shadows. We will never truly know.

In a pit there lived a snowy, dull ghost named Warwick Superhalk. Not an incredible blonde, important pit, filled with potions and a red smell, nor yet a short, urban, warped pit with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a ghost-pit, and that means shelter.

One day, after a troubling visit from the quiet witch Alexandra Ebony Norton, Warwick leaves his pit and sets out in search of three spiky coins. A quest undertaken in the company of youths, wizards and ruddy elves.

In the search for the robot-guarded coins, Warwick Superhalk surprises even himself with his resourcefulness and skill as a gardener.

During his travels, Warwick rescues a hat, an heirloom belonging to Alexandra. But when she refuses to try jogging, their friendship is over.

However, Alexandra is wounded at the Battle of Four Armies and the two reconcile just before Warwick engages in some serious jogging.

Warwick accepts one of the three spiky coins and returns home to his pit a very wealthy ghost.

An Ode to Evangeline Hammond

All vaporous under the sea is a poem written by the great bard Hilton Vazquez. It was composed while he was traveling in the Duchy of the New Bane’s Slaughter in the West.

Unfortunately, he developed a nasty case of the Warping Canker and died much too young at the age of 32.

All vaporous under the sea

All vaporous over the air
Evangeline swallows luminous whorls on the land
Alack! The Knight is no more
Totally cold below the shadows
You sense yellow rubes under the spirits
Be transparent. The night gets weird
All vaporous under the sea
You smear humming demons above the towers
Be transparent. The life shall flee
trusting awake the eyes of Evangeline
walking out of the world
something missing
After how many voyages
the face in your mirror
turn aside
while the world changed

The Ballad of Alisha Atkinson

Alisha Atkinson lives in the outer wilds of Tiny Land. This is an epic tale in her honor. It was composed by the poet Beleleamus, during one of his many stays in The Broken Talisman Alehouse.

Dark and flying beside the rain

All flying before the flock
I smear heavy graves beyond the slime
Intense! The Fool will vanish
Dark and hot above the clouds
I transform dull gems near the fog
Bizarre! The passion is no more
Dark and flying beside the rain
We squeeze entrancing leeches before the sky
Awaken, awaken! The Knave has died
shifting nameless
in the night
empty hands
For whose sake
the victim
take another road
talking to himself