I don't like you,
empty-soul girl,
in your dark-ribboned raver camoflauge:
out in the hills,
beatiful people don't rave --
would you wear hiking boots, jeans,
and black-and-grey plaid?

And your interest in Ping:
do you need,
like a villian
(all shiny and new)
a loyal head honcho?

Or does some twisted attraction
draw you to beauty
on which you can't feed?

I don't like you,
but if you keep making rarely-opened eyes at Piro,
and having your new robot friend interfere,
I think we'll get along splendidly.

But if you feed on Kimiko...
I'll have Father Vasquez turn you.


[ October 21, 2001: Message edited by: Quinn ]
Beautiful Fire, she's called.
Has ever a name been so fitting?
Her dark loveliness hides an even darker heart.
And yet, when she smiles,
The entire world stops to stare.

Is her joy genuine?
Can one such as her truly be happy?
Or is it yet more camouflage,
A mask, hiding her true intentions?

I suppose, as they say,
Some things are not meant to be known.
Types: Verse, Miho
It just so happens that a few days ago I spontaneously composed an homage to Miho, included below. Be warned that it is rather abstract, and indeed exists completely on an emotional reality as opposed to literal...

She liked my tears
Liked the taste of them
Liked the way they intermingled with her own
She would touch my hair from across the room
And fail to smile
And apologize
For she didn't really know what her role was in all this

And the time I swore to free her
And found that she herself held the key
And I couldn't find my way out

She has a plan in which
She is an unwitting pawn
And freedom is death
And neither would stop her
[The Artistry Encouragement Agency.]

_Quinn's muse was concerned. Not by his prosaic violence in the FanWar thread; and not by his lamentable tendency to switch tenses; but by Phaedrus' superior haiku output. With the Miho (Verse) thread stalled, _Quinn had no chance to become the Schwing... and _Quinn's muse had no chance at promotion. Something had to be done... her client's strength was free verse, a perfect foil for haiku, but perhaps... indeed, in the style of the methane-propelled 'zilla, something else was needed. She rubbed her hands together gleefully -- and checking to make sure _Quinn's CEA caseworker was busy -- set to work in his brain.

from The Book of Dead Wombats

"It is this author's greatest pleasure
to pound dead wombats, stretch and measure:
for a fine stew they make,
and a great pie they bake,
and with sauce, they're truly a treasure."

-- Introductions, 1:1

"To really enjoy a wombat for three,
avoid cheeses, especially brie:
the only thing rotten
should be wombat, ill-gotten,
cooked on leaves from a well-oiled tree."

-- Admonitions, 2:3

_Quinn's muse looked up from her work at the sudden arrival of the CEA caseworker, who spoke disapprovingly: "Shoo. He has work to do."

is your rightful staff and shield.
Keep the men guessing!
A puzzled fanboy is a
reed that will bend to your will.

-- Strategies 9:1-5

Historical note: this verse from the Necrowombicon was apparently translated literally from the much older Unaussprechlichen Mädchen. It seems to have lost something in the translation; I'm not entirely sure I understand the meaning.

[ October 25, 2001: Message edited by: Phaedrus ]
The eyes are mirror
To the soul : the wombancer
Knows this potency
her eyes, her weappone - her eyes
her weaknesse - the veiler's arte

- Secrets 3:19

(In his infamous translation (circa 1337 A.D.) of the Necrowombicon, the mad prophet Yamiko scrawled many additions to the great work that have since become generally accepted by the occult community, despite (or perhaps due to) their particularly pronounced tendency to the cryptic. In a potentially futile attempt to increase clarity, this edition has italicized Yamiko's revisions wherever they could be identified.)

[Author's note - This is way too much fun. :-) ]
Be not afraid to
display your secret beauty.
A glimpse. Tantalize.
Fanservice is the flame which
melts the putty of men's minds.

-- Strategies 4:1-5
[/me applauds Garran. (Sorry, Phaedrus, I don't want to piss off my muse. ) I like... 'the mad prophet Yamiko'... Tasty... ]

With a black ribbon bound,
holding up, or letting down:
she will not wear a crown,
but by these signs be found.

Know ye this book,
lest your soul by her be took:
prepare the wombat feast,
all of ye, from most to least.

-- from Yamiko's Translator's Notes


[ October 25, 2001: Message edited by: Quinn ]
Strategies is a complex work. It is difficult to determine the proper form for a verse: haiku, tanka, or limerick? Some verses have clearly been altered from their original, but if to remove, alter, or insert is mostly unknown. Yamiko's edition, the most complete known, may include attempts to correct past (or future!) alterations, leading to more confusion. Consider the following fragment from Strategies 1:30...

Know your enemy:
test him with a new minion
to learn both their strengths.


[ October 25, 2001: Message edited by: Quinn ]
The seeds of your might
Are borne in the fertile minds
Of those who fear you ;
Be as a feather on the
Winds of perception, unfixed

- Strategies 2:18

(Note: While it is believed that Yamiko had some influence on the above verse, this passage is missing from all comfirmed fragments we have of the original text, leaving it very difficult to determine, in this case, what is or is not his authorship. We leave it to the interpretation of the reader.)
When cross-dressing yourself online,
don't assume any gender is fine.
That bishounen over there,
ribbon twined in his hair,
Might be female, though showing no sign.

--Admonitions 4:22-26

Yamiko's translation work was notoriously biased. He seemed to dislike haiku, and often appended commentary lines or additional syllables to convert the original poem into an alternate verse form. In this process, he sometimes changed the message entirely.

[ October 25, 2001: Message edited by: Phaedrus ]
Nnnnnnng aaaaaaaaaaah dammit, okay, I give up, I can't resist! Such good verse about my favorite spooky chick! Coleridge can wait, I just can't stand idly by!

The Warrior thinks himself unbeatable,
But his type is never uncheatable:
He's resistant to Cuts and Sprains
But lacking in Sense and Brains,
Thus his Pride makes him defeatable.

He's easily fooled by feminine Wiles,
Readily seduced by subtle Half-Smiles:
At your Gesture he will follow,
All his Purpose rendered hollow,
Thus his Submission you plot meanwhiles.

Though his bodily Powers be at their Peak,
Strong drink is Refuge that he'll seek
Whilst he waits for your Return
Once to your Boudoir you adjourn,
Thus his Attraction makes him weak.

He drinks, and his Speech becomes bombastic,
He drinks, and his Will becomes elastic.
With dawn he's hungover and tired,
Remembers naught of what transpired,
Thus his Impression, an evening fantastic.

--Libations 93:1-20

*sigh* It's not up to the standards of the present company, gomen. Forgive me, I'm sober and I have a terrible headache. This thread was a great idea and beautifully executed, all y'all.

I've made up my mind… I'm gonna quit this data-janitor crap, I'm gonna sell all my stuff and move back to Hawai'i and be a full-time poetaster. Days, sit on the beach and watch the clouds being pushed over the Pacific by the trade winds; nights, drink Ozeki and write rhymes. All I need is a lanai (windows optional) and an Internet connection. And Ozeki.

Hey, all you Church of Miho fans: dig the soundtrack at
this Web site; it might take a while to load but it's worth it. Add this to the Church of Miho graphic: imagine the possibilities!

[ October 25, 2001: Message edited by: smurd ]
Do not brag about
the size of your sword until
you may unsheathe it.
Past success, Doom. Humble men
Quake not in fear of reviews.

--Admonitions 7:4-8

Dabbling in occult lore is perilous; a little knowledge is a dangerous thing. John Romero obviously never read this far.

[ October 25, 2001: Message edited by: Phaedrus ]
Know your fanboys, for
with a thousand minions, you
need not fear defeat.
-Strategies, 8:18-20
Not all men may be
beguiled through beauty alone -
learn to stab and frag.
Many ways to a man's heart.
Find the chink in his armour!

-- Strategies 12:1-5

There is little honor among thieves. An almost identical text appears in Cultes des Girls, in the chillingly graphic section titled "Recipes for Success: How to Serve Man".

[ October 26, 2001: Message edited by: Phaedrus ]
Types: Verse, Parody
The following fragment is very old and controversial; it is supposedly the last remaining fragment of Yamiko's final writing, an epic poem allegedly penned by the prophet in his dotage, as he lay dying, embittered and bereft of inspiration in a temple in the mountains near Kyoto, waited on by aging miko. Readers should be warned that the veracity of this piece is extremely suspect, not least due to its suspicious resemblance to another famous piece of poetry (though whether this is indicative of forgery or plagiarism on part of the latter poet would take wiser minds than ours to say for certain).

I little prophet, now, an idle ping
Near a still heart, among these barren hags
Match'd with an aged life I peter, old
Unequal jaws couched in a wrinkled face
With gums that scrape and bleed and show no teeth.
/me seconds Phaedrus.

for smurd:

Is it tradition
if Garran doesn't archive
the posts made to it?

Grant your smiles rarely.
They will study and ponder
every nuance.
Fanboys will argue for days
about the hint of a smile.

Secrets 4:1-5

First attested in the Pingakotic Manuscripts, this verse is often cited in support for a connection between the undead and the not living.

[ October 28, 2001: Message edited by: Phaedrus ]
In the '1337' manuscript, several passages appear to contradict translations from other works. Consider Secrets 3:20, in which Yamiko's handiwork is particularly evident...

[Apparent original.]

Hidden eyes' power:
to tantalize, to control

[Yamiko's edit.]

Hidden eyes, like all
mysteries, have the power
to tantalize, guide
imagination, control
it, and to create devotion.

[The '1337' version.]

Hidden eyes' weakness:
to discover illusion
you must call her bluff.

He storeth best who Perleth best,
All verse both great and small:
For MT fans who writeth verse,
Who read and loveth all.

(apologies to Coleridge)

He prayeth best who loveth best,
All things both great and small:
For the dear God, who loveth us,
He made and loveth all.

...amen to that.
Types: Filk, Miho, Humor
[The Church of Miho's adaption of 'Purple People Eater' is left as an excercise for the reader.]

_Little Raver Girl_

Come, they told me,
our undead Queen to see
our finest to bring
to lay before her schwing
so honor her
when we are come

Lady Raver
I am a raver too
I have no gift to bring
that's fit to give your shwing
shall I rhyme for you?
in my verse?

Miho nodded
the fox and ram kept rhyme
I wrote out my verse for her
I wrote my best verse for her
she didn't smile at me
me or my verse

With your permission, a sonnet, composed in honour of Miho the Darkly Cute.

A ribbon tangled loosely in her hair,
Eyes narrowed 'gainst the harsh glare of the sun,
Was ever evil known that's quite so fair?
One look from her, and all that's good's undone.

A figure in the distance, tall and proud,
Her hordes of minions battle in her stead
None but the strongest ever are allowed
To serve Miho, the Queen of the Undead.

And yet, it seems, she has a softer side.
An unexpected smile, and a pet?
Rememberance makes Largo want to hide,
For he now knows he hasn't won quite yet.

And what comes next? Ah, only time will tell,
And all that we can do is wish her well.
Divine Wind, gambatte! Ph43r n0t j00r po3tic s1d3!!

In this strip, so many lovely ladies found,
And these, of many moods possessed.
I see in each potential poems bound,
With only one am I obsessed.

Like chocolates, with diff'rent flavours laced
They come in light or darker shades;
It's bittersweet that is the subtler taste,
Its mystery all else outweighs.
I must humbly state
my wishes, to write sonnets,
should they have a thread?

I remember not
the rules for writing sonnets,
no syllable count?

My mistress, I find I've come to thee,
on the mercy of your darkest grace,
your cuteness is all that comforts me,
as sickening brightness fills this place.

Your raver minions have eased my mind,
dancing fast, as though caught in flame,
comforted to be among my kind,
so many people wearing the same.

Ravers writhing, their clothes neon bright,
and this kind of music needs no bands,
Miho's minions, clothes dark as night,
strobe lights do odd things to their hands.

It's a damn weird use of imagery,
guess I can't write sonnets, sucks to be me.

Ah well, I tried I used to be good at sonnets, but then haiku took over my life
[!poem]Hmmm - The poem I'm about to post isn't exactly on-topic, but you could read it as on-topic if you replace the girl I wrote it about with Miho...

This poem requires a little background to understand... I was once in love with someone who (it turns out) wasn't in love with me... We were an intimate pair, and I took the intimacy as a sign that my feelings were shared... They then out of the blue announced that they were leaving me, and that there was nothing between us, that they loved me but weren't in love with me, and that they 'knew' I felt the same way... They were moving out in a month...

And thus it begins:[/!poem]

How can the heart be heavy
yet feel so hollow
as to break at a whisper?

So kind the words said
as to cut like paper
drawn across thin skin

There is no question unanswered,
All is known.
A plentitude of tears fall
for no reason?

Life often lacks
In fairness and love.
But even when both abound
I cannot express either enough.

Bound, I crawl,
like an insect I scuttle.
I am worthless without expression.

Today I die,
Tommorrow I feel sure
I will die again.
My heart betrays me.

Love in my life
Scars me
Yet I yearn for it,
I have a month to live.

Three times cupid hit his mark,
Twice in youth too playfully,
Short on time and love,
Fun but empty.

Now I find myself torn
A friendship that cannot be broken
A love that will not pass
A heart that will not mend
Not over time,
Not over distance,
Not after life.
I cannot think

My anger at myself
Surpasses the rational.
But in realising this,
Nothing is solved.

My sense leaves with my love
To live away from me
"It's not because of you".
Words try to heal.

They will not.

I am apparently confused.
Not "In love", I merely "Love".
I suppose all about me is not known.

As in love
as I had ever hoped to be
I am withered and made to blossom
By her touch

But it cannot be.

Still my heart, "please beat for another"
It will lay unbeating until that day.
So broken that day will come too late.

I cry
But the fault is mine

I have tripped
Torn my heart upon itself

Pain my solace, the other pole
Oposed if you will
To what I feel about you,
Yet so alike now.

I cry
But the fault is mine.

I dance a dread game of dispair
My heart beating in your hand
So broken and gray, it shrinks.
I am not surprised you do not see

I cry
But the fault is mine.
Merci beaucoups, Squee:
"a mouthful of air" takes on
Such a profound weight.
[This may fit better under 'Rampant Speculation...']

[dagnabit, I thought I'd finally managed to get a post right on the first try!]

miho dances
and shadows shiver
but she pays them no mind

miho dances
and the ravers stare
but she ignores their awe

miho dances
with her eyes closed
but she sees more that way --

as miho dreams
so miho dances
but she is not alone

despite her isolation

miho dances


[ November 06, 2001: Message edited by: Quinn ]
to my mind she is
the most beautiful thing, and
yet dark as winter.

the gale howls: bearing
leaves and rain on autumn's squall;
black, yet pretty wind.

she gives us pain. We
must endure for her smile is
like summer's last dawn.

but in springtime, the
pure, quickening winds bring to
us a challenger...
[OOC: Dr. Tripp: If Miho & Kimiko ever /are/ in the same strip, I'll start a 'Kimiko & Miho (Verse)' topic as soon as I see it... so keep both of your nice poem halves around.]

The '1337' manuscript translates some passages rather differently than previous efforts. For instance, Introductions 2:1 may sound rather familiar...

The Look

Walking like a liche lord,
hitting with a hammer,
she's an undead Queen,
never was a quitter,
likes the taste of blooddrops --
she's got the Look.

Heavenly bound,
because heaven's got her number,
when she's spinning all around
raving is a color
her dancing is a dark thing --
she's got the Look.

She's got the Look,
she's got the Look:
what in the world can make the Darkly Cute change hue,
when everything the zombies do,
they do for you?
And I go:
la la la la la -- she's got the Look.

Fire in her eyes,
naked to the T-bone
is a raver's disguise:
ribbon in her hair down,
shaking like a mad dog --
she's got the Look.

Swaying to the rave,
moving like a hammer,
she's a undead queen:
raving is her ocean,
darkness is the wet sand,
she's got the Look.


[OOC -- Apparently squee remembers the 80s, because he's already added this to the 'wombicon. ]
Let me know if you'd like to see more of this, or if y'all're sick of Roxette.


"Hello, you fool, I 0wn you,
c'mon join the deathmatch."

I get hit out of nowhere,
I have to jump over a car,
be a player in this lame game,
collecting the stars.

Don't need no Necrowombicon,
I don't need no trash talk at all:

she caught a train going downtown,
she took the color from the moon:

and she'd never tell her secrets
to a wonderful ballon;
she's the heart of the darkness,
she's got me whistling "I'm just a l00n"

And it all
when it ends

and she's all
necromantic fiend.

She says:
"Hello, you fool, I 0wn you,
c'mon join the deathmatch.
Join the deathmatch!"



[ November 08, 2001: Message edited by: Quinn ]
Types: Filk, Largo, Miho, Piro, Humor
__Haste Rune__

You got a haste rune
I wanna teach you to railgun
Maybee we'll make a deal
Maybee together we can frag someone

Any frags are better,
Starting from zero, got nothing to lose.
Maybee we'll score something...
Got lots of rockets, I'm in "the groove"

You got a railgun
I gotta quad to get us outta here
been working at my rocket jumps
managed to save just a little bit of health

Won't have to snipe from too far,
Just across the level and into the water
You and I can both get frags
and finally see what it means to be gibbing

My friend largo's got a problem
ya play with pineapples, that's the way it is
He says "5killz's t00 m4d f0r sh00t1ng"
His model's too l33t to gib like his.

So Miho went off and left him,
she wanted more frags than he could give,
I said "Somebody's got to take care of him"
So I quit quake and that's what I did.

You got quad damage,
will it be enough so we can RJ away?
We gotta make a decision,
Leave this fight or suicide and stay.

So remember when we were flying, flying to Japan
Fanmailed so much, felt like it was spam
Tokyo lay out before us,
and my sketchbook's tightly held under my shoulder

And I... Had a feeling I'd meet "the one",
Had a feeling I could meet someone
meet someone... meet someone

You got a BFG
We go hunting, entertain ourselves.
ya still ain't got a frag,
Miho kicked your butt, and she's a girl!

I know things'll get better
You'll start fragging and I'll earn some money.
We'll try to stop our camping,
Learn to strafe-jump and sweettalk an airline.

So remember when we were flying, flying to Japan
Fanmailed so much, felt like it was spam
Tokyo lay out before us,
and my sketchbook's tightly held under my shoulder

And I... Had a feeling I'd meet "the one",
Had a feeling I could meet someone
meet someone... meet someone

We got a b33r keg,
l33t b33r and bandwidth coming out our ears.
You stay out of quake for hours at a time
So all of your friends and you can swap your warez

I'd always hoped for better
Thought maybee together you and me'd get it
I ain't got no plans, ain't fraggin noone
Wanna pack my stuff and go back home.

So remember when we were flying, flying to Japan
Fanmailed so much, felt like it was spam
Tokyo lay out before us,
and my sketchbook's tightly held under my shoulder

And I... Had a feeling I'd meet "the one",
Had a feeling I could meet someone
meet someone... meet someone

You got a haste rune,
Are you fast enough that you can fly away?
You gotta make a decision,
book a flight or I'll gib you my way.

[ November 08, 2001: Message edited by: squee ]
Her eyes half-lidded
Her smile pregnant with promise
She will let you fall

(Haiku - )

Although I wander
Far, I return, always, to
Your serene embrace
Miho verse returned,
Or is that "resurrected",
By Garran-san's pen.
<hr/>Originally posted by Quinn:
[OOC: Dr. Tripp: If Miho & Kimiko ever /are/ in the same strip, I'll start a 'Kimiko & Miho (Verse)' topic as soon as I see it...<hr/>


<POETRY TYPE=sonnet METER=iambicpentameter>

She sits, alone, the windows shuttered tight,
The single naked light bulb has been dimmed,
The monitor provides her only light,
A necromancer's battle now begins.

She stands, alone, atop a distant hill,
Her undead minions carry on the fight,
Against the foolish Paladin, who still
Is battling for all he thinks is right.

But wait, what's this? A Sorceress appears,
A flame pierces the shadows, through the strife.
Her minions flee in stark panic and fear;
Her enemies prepare to end her life.

Young Miho quits the game, her eyes aflame;
For we all know that two-on-ones are lame.


Just Miho playin' Diablo. Not my best work, but not horrid either.
Inspired by the many wonderful verses on the forum I felt an itch to join and contribute, hope its up to the Miho-verse standards

leaning 'gainst the rail
gaijin and darkly cute share
deadly openness

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