Difference between revisions of "Omnipoet"
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Once upon a time, as an unknown, aspiring artist, the Omnipoet wrote a single masterpiece of poetry, {{his or her}} best piece ever. In fact, the Omnipoet was certain that this was the greatest piece of poetry, but would pretended to be too humble to say so {{him or her}}self. Having polished this single poem to perfection, {{he or she}} arranged to publish it in the ''[[Godville Times]]''. | Once upon a time, as an unknown, aspiring artist, the Omnipoet wrote a single masterpiece of poetry, {{his or her}} best piece ever. In fact, the Omnipoet was certain that this was the greatest piece of poetry, but would pretended to be too humble to say so {{him or her}}self. Having polished this single poem to perfection, {{he or she}} arranged to publish it in the ''[[Godville Times]]''. | ||
| − | Well, the poem was a complete failure. The Omnipoet became the laughing stock of Godville society; parlour rooms up and down the city burst into uproarious laughter at the mention of {{his or her}} name. Humiliated and ashamed, the Omnipoet fled the daylight, escaping into the dungeons where {{he | + | Well, the poem was a complete failure. The Omnipoet became the laughing stock of Godville society; parlour rooms up and down the city burst into uproarious laughter at the mention of {{his or her}} name. Humiliated and ashamed, the Omnipoet fled the daylight, escaping into the dungeons where {{he or she}} swore to write a new poem great enough to show them all, or die trying. |
And even in that promise {{he or she}} failed. {{He or She}}'s done neither; to this day {{he or she}} lurks in the dark, attacking anyone who interrupts {{his or her}} writing, blaming the constant interruptions for {{his or her}} writers' block. | And even in that promise {{he or she}} failed. {{He or She}}'s done neither; to this day {{he or she}} lurks in the dark, attacking anyone who interrupts {{his or her}} writing, blaming the constant interruptions for {{his or her}} writers' block. | ||
Latest revision as of 06:51, 31 October 2019
| Omnipoet | |
|---|---|
| Poetastrum singularem | |
 | |
| Class | Suffering artist |
| Habitat | Anywhere with a generally anguished, miserable atmosphere |
| Description | "The eponymous Omnipoet is, without a doubt, the most self-indulgent, self-important, self-published monstrosity ever to disgrace the pages of the Godville Times." — Godville Times art critic |
| Boss | |
| Boss Type | 2-Ability Dungeon |
The Omnipoet (Poetastrum singularem) is a boss-monster found in Godville's dungeons. Fuelled by artistic frustration and dramatic overacting, the Omnipoet was once human, long ago.
Once upon a time, as an unknown, aspiring artist, the Omnipoet wrote a single masterpiece of poetry, her best piece ever. In fact, the Omnipoet was certain that this was the greatest piece of poetry, but would pretended to be too humble to say so herself. Having polished this single poem to perfection, she arranged to publish it in the Godville Times.
Well, the poem was a complete failure. The Omnipoet became the laughing stock of Godville society; parlour rooms up and down the city burst into uproarious laughter at the mention of her name. Humiliated and ashamed, the Omnipoet fled the daylight, escaping into the dungeons where she swore to write a new poem great enough to show them all, or die trying.
And even in that promise she failed. She's done neither; to this day she lurks in the dark, attacking anyone who interrupts her writing, blaming the constant interruptions for her writers' block.
As for the poem, the editors of the Godville Times were kind enough to supply a copy for historical preservation.
The Godvillemarillion
beholders eye you know, Marie
kill it before it spreads
I shudder, angst-ridden, gazing at your three-day-old fries
I sit and gaze at the ceiling overhead
a little while later it began to snow
and they took me away as I screamed "no!no!"
... she grips lovingly onto the brick that is her pillow.
the gentle sound of the scissors: snip
but chewing them up would be twice as nice
and foetuses swirl loudly within the glass
one lonely kitten forever eating the rotting mice
begin to dance, and raise up your glass
and staring through her, he said
in the fiery spiral of a vortex called despair,
as eggs will be eggs it is said
... love 'im to pieces, feed 'im in a high-chair
on this salty, swampy, sumptuous eve.
'cause kicking my cat is not nice at all
because last time the germ got caught on his sleeve
and then they danced in the room of ball
-- The Omnipoet
