Editor in Chief Bill | 01 Sep 2011 6:36 a.m. PST |
The rules are pretty simple. The poem must be your own original creation, and to submit it for the contest, just post it to this topic. The winners will be selected by TMP polls, with semi-final ("Top 5") and final (single choice) rounds. There are no prizes, unless someone wants to PM me and make an offer
|
Sane Max | 01 Sep 2011 6:42 a.m. PST |
Back aching, eyes drawn we idly rattle The sweaty Cubes of Fate in clench'ed fists Waiting, waiting for him to make his move Already planning out what we will do When he has moved his piece and fired his guns. Like Wargames, our life is episodic We try to second guess the world itself But fail. Like Bill, God does not play with Dice He uses the Server, and that is Rigged. Pat |
John the OFM | 01 Sep 2011 6:43 a.m. PST |
There was an old man from Nantucket
No rules on type? I can't write a sonnet or sestina to save my life, but anyone who can should get extra points. |
Sane Max | 01 Sep 2011 6:52 a.m. PST |
There was an old man from Nantucket that rattled his dice in a bucket when told of a hole and advised to re-roll Said 'Never Mind Liza, I'll luck it.' Pat |
C Anders J | 01 Sep 2011 8:13 a.m. PST |
toy soldiers march off to imaginary war; silent drums keep time. |
daghan | 01 Sep 2011 8:21 a.m. PST |
Spot on with the haiku, Anders. You've got my vote so far. |
Editor in Chief Bill | 01 Sep 2011 8:35 a.m. PST |
I'm thinking a sequel contest would be to make a video, putting one of these poems to music
|
Editor in Chief Bill | 01 Sep 2011 9:01 a.m. PST |
I'll throw in the first prize (but not necessarily "first prize," depending on what anyone else provides!) – a used copy of It Took Heroes – A Cavalry Chaplain's Memoir of Vietnam. |
Cerdic | 01 Sep 2011 9:38 a.m. PST |
|
Martian Root Canal | 01 Sep 2011 9:58 a.m. PST |
Painting the intricate lace of the Prussians, Basing the serried ranks of the Russians, Playing a wargame to cure my Seven Year itch; But invariably, life is a die and then you bitch. |
sumerandakkad | 01 Sep 2011 2:06 p.m. PST |
Those hallowed halls when first we saw. The Hussari charged right through them all. Napoleonic rollng thunder of canon and musket. Rattled the windows as the Austrians went under. Those Immortal men of Persia's story with bow and sppear. Advancing ever onward to ancient glory |
Sundance | 01 Sep 2011 5:38 p.m. PST |
Bazookas to the left of me, Bazookas to the right of me, Bazookas all around me. Into the Valley of Death rode my 600 Tigers. |
JSchutt | 01 Sep 2011 5:38 p.m. PST |
There once was the king of a forum Who looked on distain at a quorum Though he thought he was fair He was led to despair As he spent all his time on decorum |
Cke1st | 01 Sep 2011 7:24 p.m. PST |
I played a little game with little men All painted to a standard very high. My knights and footmen let their banners fly Because they knew they soon would win again. My foe had Orcs that all looked very boxy, All primed in black with just one shade of green, The lamest army I had ever seen; His "Balrog" was a pepper mill by proxy. He had no skill; he just set up a line Without regard for who's in front or back. I knew of all the tactics that he'd lack, And I was sure the triumph would be mine. Alas! To get it done, I was unable! I rolled a 1 and fled right off the table. |
Editor in Chief Bill | 02 Sep 2011 6:25 a.m. PST |
There once was the king of a forum Who looked on distain at a quorum Though he thought he was fair He was led to despair As he spent all his time on decorum Sorry, it's a "Historical Wargaming" theme. |
JSchutt | 02 Sep 2011 7:18 a.m. PST |
How about this? There once was a man with a boarder Who unknown to him was a hoarder When his Legions did swell His second floor fell As the weight was to great for the mortar. a bit of a stretch I know
|
arthur1815 | 04 Sep 2011 2:52 p.m. PST |
THE MODERN WARGAME GENERAL I am the very model of a modern wargame general, I've information military, ludic, philosophical, I know Napoleon's Marshals and can quote numbers historical From the Fall of Troy to Waterloo, in Orbats categorical; I'm very well acquainted, too, with rulesets mathematical, I understand their CRT's, both logarithmic and quadratical, About Georg von Reisswitz I'm bursting with great zeal, With many cheerful facts about the virtues of Kriegsspiel. I'm always playing wargames, with my buddies or alone; I've a shelf full of books at home by Donald Featherstone: In short, in matters military, ludic, philosophical, I am the very model of a modern wargame General. I've read of Uncle Toby, in eighteenth century fiction; I understand von Clausewitz and his emphasis on friction, I can interpret every sub-clause in the rules by Philip Barker, I can mark a map with a chinagraph or water soluble marker; I can tell undoubted Minifigs from Spencer Smith and Perry, I know all the marks of panzer used in World War II by "Jerry"! Then I can roleplay Marshal Berthier without a single stammer, And list every single Codex from that utter nonsense Warhammer. Then I can write out orders in Babylonian cuneiform, And tell you every button on a Polish Lancer's uniform: In short, in matters military, ludic, philodophical, I am the very model of a modern wargame general. In fact, when I can tell a spatha from a gladius, When I can spot immediately Peter Hofschroer's latest alias, When I can pronounce perfectly Russian names such as Bagration, And when I know precisely what Bill H. means by "simulation", When I have abandoned bouncesticks to determine long range gunnery, When I know more of polyhedral dice and probability – In short, when I've a smattering of miniature strategy— You'll say a better post has never been on TMP! For my wargame expertise, despite all that Nugget tells, Has barely reached the heights of Little Wars by HG Wells; But still, in matters military, ludic, philosophical, I am the very model of a modern wargame general. |
Whirlwind | 09 Sep 2011 8:16 a.m. PST |
to all. Especially Arthur's! |
Editor in Chief Bill | 12 Sep 2011 4:37 a.m. PST |
Update!First-place prize in the contest will be a $200 USD gift certificate from War Zone Gaming Terrain Systems. I hope to have an announcement about a second-place prize shortly
|
R Lee S | 12 Sep 2011 5:17 a.m. PST |
My pile of lead did grow the pots of paint did flow All day long, was nothing but Fun now it's off to the game I go. |
evilcartoonist | 12 Sep 2011 6:44 a.m. PST |
Asked the father to his son, "How many are dead? Who has earned his medal?" Replied the son to his father, "None of them are dead; they're all made of mettle." |
RobH | 12 Sep 2011 6:55 a.m. PST |
A Tankers sonnet. Angular, cold hard body, gasoline Belching fume, oil, smoke the deafening roar Iron clash, demonic with banshee scream Vibrating, shaking through her very core Creak and squeal, resisting, protesting groans Slowly pulling, unwillingly she wakes Each steel wheel upon metal track bed moans Ponderous weighty beast reluctant shakes Then eager, impatient joyful release Music, harmony, atuned, the engine song Urgent strain, rush on through the shattered peace No effort advance, determined headstrong My guardian, saviour, an armoured womb Perhaps my doom, coffin, a steely tomb. |
The Gonk | 12 Sep 2011 7:19 a.m. PST |
The Charge of My Newest Unit Half a foot, half a foot, Half a foot onward All in the valley of Ones Rode the ten figures. "Forward, newest unit! Roll me a g** d**** six!" he said: Into the valley of Ones Rode the ten figures. "Roll me a g** d**** six!" Was there a man dismay'd? You bet the grognards knew The guy had blunder'd Theirs not to tell him why Just react on the sly And watch his figures die: Into the valley of Ones Rode the ten figures. Sixes to the right of them, Sixes to the left of them, Sixes to the front of them, Shaken and thunder'd; Storm'd at with red d6, By terr'ble luck betwixt, Into the jaws of Loss, Into the mouth of Shame Rode the ten figures. When can their chagrin fade? O the stupid charge they made! All the game room wondered. Laugh at the charge they made, Mock how their owner played, Brand new ten figures! |
Goober | 12 Sep 2011 8:07 a.m. PST |
The Wargamers Three wargamers met in a room Above a sleazy pub. They had rented it for £40.00 GBP And said it was their club "We need a name, it should be good" the first was heard to groan but no consensus could they find and not one dice was thrown The second week they met again above the sleazy bar They have to choose a set of rules Mongoose or old White Star? And should they go for published rules Or use their own homegrown? They argued long into the night and not one dice was thrown The third week and they meet again above the sleazy tavern The fat ones brought some scenery a super-detailed cavern The beardy one is quite annoyed as this is the wrong terrain For German Panzers have no place in a fantasy campaign The fourth week and they meet again at the door to their saloon But a notice has been taped up there "No wargames here, platoon" They've got the rules and minis for The Battles of Sarratoga But the room is for another group – the Mums and Babies yoga! G. |
Moe the Great | 12 Sep 2011 8:27 a.m. PST |
To Scale are the men. Historically the fight. The die casts their fate. |
JammerMan | 12 Sep 2011 8:56 a.m. PST |
Hard men of iron might, legionnaires to the core Suffered cohorts torn from the eagles they adore. Special they were, for he choose to lead them alone, On the right flank rear he bade them stand weapons honed. Battle on, as two lines charged forth against foe sublimed, The orphaned cohorts readied a cunning fourth line. When sword and spear met in a storm of impact woe, Then his opposite set his horse, archers and slingers at a go. Against the horse on left they came, an overwhelm wave, But then he threw the orphans against them a deadly melee. The horses ran and archers and slingers died that day, His return to the third line bought blood and slaughter to bay. Oh where is Pompey they cry through the night, For he has left Caesar at Pharsalus in fright. As the gamers met and discussed which rules are best, Who can win, those whom roll deadly die on the quest. |
Buzzkill | 12 Sep 2011 8:59 a.m. PST |
Who looked on distain at a quorum Good thing it is not a spelling or grammar contest! |
Major WIttering | 12 Sep 2011 9:48 a.m. PST |
The Wargamer's Complaint After watching the film of Waterloo I craved British squares, French columns, Old Guard. Ordered twelve hundred ten mil. Painted two, when Zulu's re-run shouted "Bromhead, Chard in 1:48th". So I primed ninety shields, trimmed assegai. Twenty eight days later for some reason zombie vampires appealed. Whilst twisting limbs that should've been straighter the History Channel played Cromwell. Then Henry the Fifth, Alexander, Das Boot. Soon I'd immortals, u-boats, musket men and, god knows why, twenty zouave recruits. I ran out of cash. Sold the lot for some Sioux. Then a great thought struck: how about Waterloo? |
barcah2001 | 12 Sep 2011 10:03 a.m. PST |
Rosey dawn on the falling die, Decide fates. Are we but dew in the light? Crap. A one |
PygmaelionAgain | 12 Sep 2011 10:15 a.m. PST |
The earth hove into view whist o'er flew fire and shot. Bullets dodged more than a few, but this one I had caught. My breath it left not to return, a vision swam and dimmed. Agonized, my bones they burned and time was stretching thin. "To me!" I gasped and bled, but cheated well my earthy fate. "Surgeon, worry not this horrid lead, I've still got 10 regiments to paint!" |
Dropzonetoe | 12 Sep 2011 10:46 a.m. PST |
I cannot tell what color lacing to paint upon this soldiers facing. I looked a lot and cannot tell, Napoleonic's can go to hell |
Only Warlock | 12 Sep 2011 1:55 p.m. PST |
War Zone I held my blade at quarter guard The Foe within my Reach The GM Rolled a Pair of Dice They tumbled in the breach Frame'd by hills of blood-drenched foam I looked on in dismay Double Six they spelled my doom Another game to play
I held my Rifle in Cov'ring fire Advancing down the trail Eyes were narrowed, senses keen I looked into the Mire The 'Cong were in the jungle Trees They were for Ambush Made My point man severed at the knees Double Six the Cong grenade. I held the Flintlock aiming high Scanning hills ahead. Past the Foam Rock Parapet, I looked for bobbing head Metal Soldier Enemy With Brown Bess Oh So keen Blew my head off smokily Double Six the roll, so mean. Wars are fought so endlessly Across my War Zone, dread. To the boldest,victory Come Lads, Push Some Lead! |
DisasterWargamer | 12 Sep 2011 2:25 p.m. PST |
Alas to the top of the peak To find what he had been sent to seek A trickle of lovely red warm coats and guns Invaders of our homes we shun There amongst the hidden fey Shadows along the canyon wall You cannot slip away For all I have to do is call Home to fires I will go Striding as I go To become a man I go Atop that peak now set aglow |
Stork1066 | 12 Sep 2011 3:01 p.m. PST |
There once was a gamer named Ned Whose little soldiers were all Dead The camp had been Sacked The General's been Hacked At least all the Widows were Lead. |
quidveritas | 12 Sep 2011 3:06 p.m. PST |
SUNDAY AFFAIR The foe assembles on a distant hillside Across the valley dotted with hovels and streams Our messenger mounts and away he does ride Bearing a message to a man lost in his dreams The enemy advances each base with great care Firing cannon through impossible gaps My men move away -- they were just over there! Why doesn't this terrain resemble my map? My attempts to stem this panic struck hoard Aggravate the tingling in my wrist As more and more troops are removed from the board My opponent suggests I should cease and desist. Get a cool drink -- that's my advice The others have all drifted away Just give up the fight and lay down your dice No more good can come of further fighting this day But No! Just one more roll of the dice Just one more attack on the right Ha! you see the foe scurry like mice Don't tell me my troops cannot fight As night approaches and yawns fill the room The battle still sputters and flares My prospects have vanished -- my plans all face doom I persist though no one else cares In equal measure this day I have experienced victory and strife My host won't give up -- he continues to play My battered toy figures come back to life Just a few more turns -- that's all that I need Then I can finish this fight My blurry eyes burn -- I just gotta pee Why does it look like its night? An unexpected event produced my army's doom A swift and violent end to our strife Without explanation my host leaves the room I've just been ordered out by his wife! |
Fellspar | 12 Sep 2011 3:17 p.m. PST |
In lead and plastics We rewrite all history On the table top |
madcam2us | 12 Sep 2011 6:28 p.m. PST |
More Hiaku
. Forever chasing youths fancy our chosen lot Parade before our eyes |
Martian Banshee | 12 Sep 2011 7:23 p.m. PST |
Forward full my troops do march my skirmishers run off the flank my foe he also cannot hide ambush may never pass with sorrow do I tell the tale of how my ex did throw my goods throw my terrain into the trash |
indierockclimber | 12 Sep 2011 7:37 p.m. PST |
Early War fans had felt torment For the BAR had been found quite inordinate So BF made the change and upped the whole range Then nuked the whole site from orbit |
proudgeek159 | 12 Sep 2011 10:56 p.m. PST |
The dice may roll in your favor one day Instead of leaving you stuck with just 'ones.' And maybe just once your foe's troops they'll slay, But instead you'll just say you're 'playing for fun.' And then comes the day when a gamer sans tact Will say, "You painted your Hessians all wrong; They're mustaches weren't waxed – well-known fact!" Back to your Ospreys to paint all night long! And one day you'll think you're finally done. You've finished your Russians! You can just play! But you make a mistake, a tiny one: You read on TMP, "New 15s Today!" But when it's all done, you'll think with a sigh, Once long ago, real men fought, bled, and died. |
skippy0001 | 13 Sep 2011 5:55 a.m. PST |
Go tell the Spartans! O, Passerby. That here we stand, filed, columned or squared, awaiting Fate's throw of a die! Go Tell the Spartans! O, Passerby, of the Battle of NeverWhen at NeverMore! Where we strove for Victory, with unholy might, through ungodly terrain, ever forward, smiting and smashing those of equal art, talent and worth! Go tell the Spartans! O, Passerby, Prevailed did we as our banner'd host, shrunken yet still whole, take what was needed and created history anew! Go tell the Spartans! O, Passerby For here we lie, cushioned by foam, boxed, shelved. for the battles of NeverWhen and NeverMore are NeverEnding. |
sneakgun | 13 Sep 2011 12:03 p.m. PST |
The house is empty now, all the anger drove them out. |
Gabriel Landowski | 13 Sep 2011 12:05 p.m. PST |
Out of the roar that buffets me, Loud as the wail of losers when, I thank whatever luck may be For my unconquerable tiny men. With the deficient objective of happenstance I have not winced nor cried a foul. Under the bludgeonings of hositle glance My minis naught know the towel. Beyond a wall built of navy beans Looms the horror of an opponent's line, And yet, history against me leans Usually beaten but marking time. It matters not their lines held straight, How excitement filled they start again, My dice the master of their fate: But I the captain of my men. |
jdeleonardis | 13 Sep 2011 1:00 p.m. PST |
War Zone gives best prize for the little man poem that they like the best |
jdeleonardis | 13 Sep 2011 1:01 p.m. PST |
We are all giant nerds playing with little toy men. War Zone, I love you. |
jdeleonardis | 13 Sep 2011 1:03 p.m. PST |
You might think me dum Flattery is everything to win the award. |
religon | 13 Sep 2011 1:13 p.m. PST |
The Needful GamerThe ponderous man alone at night, Applying the tones, accurate and bright. Dutifully painting his little wee men, Desperately scribbling numbers with pen. Jaunty, bare dice clatter with abandon, Hopelessly resulting
much too random. Looking to charge, envelop and flank, Measuring for every tiny tank. He thinks himself clever, and with wit, Seated and alone, the hapless twit. Agree with him, even on a trifle, Otherwise, you shall earn your stifle. Abruptly he notes a shout in the dark, Tiresomely voicing a shrill remark. His Mother wants him here, he chooses to boast, But before bed, just one last post. This middle aged man most truly, Does desperately need more boobies. |
Martian Banshee | 13 Sep 2011 1:16 p.m. PST |
Daily did I battle once maroon beret lost in the sand toil through desert, yes we did the General's wish was our command forward through the desert sand at the shoulder of my brother perhaps a day did pass this way Lawrence or another now troops are mine to command across the dining table through swaths of felt or stacks of books only are they able for good terrain's no longer here it does make my eye twitch for my ex threw it all away I'd like to shank the bitch |
Evil Eli | 13 Sep 2011 4:46 p.m. PST |
Once there was a wife in pain From tripping over terrain She bought him a table So he would be able to keep her from going insane |
korsun0 | 13 Sep 2011 4:55 p.m. PST |
Some mighty fine work posted here
.. |