Canubaraksson V. What more?

is the Balladeer and Poet of LoM.

For those of you that have not scrolled to the bottom of these pages. Here is the brief on Canu.

Canu joined LoM on the 2006/8/24. He has made in excess of 1480 forum postings. All of which I might add I am going through to locate his impromptu verses. He has many varied interests that encompass his personality including music (all sorts), reading, writing, and digital art. Canu also keeps himself occupied within his lair. If you plan to visit the bespectacled gent, please be aware that he is prone to writing a verse or two about you. He resides on the Marches of Moksun, often you can hear him before seeing him. Yes, he's the one walking around playing the Lute.


Now lets see what he's been offering from here:

Little Wind around the pole
Feel the tension mount
We are only waiting for
The blow-by-blow account

To solve all Mernac's needs and wants
Clone an additional dozen Quonts
Faced with thirteen determined faces
In- and out-baskets soon trade places

If I commit lese majestie
I hope you'll not think less of me
But choose to pardon me instead
As it was lust beguiled my head

One cannot hamper him with chains
Nor put him to the test
The cuckoo lays her egg within
Another birdie's nest
Observe a bit and in a while
You shortly will discover
He gets up to in the underworld
The same as in the over

Come neighbors! Light torches, and grab your pitchforks. The Trolls are just over the next rise...

Though ye may be of the Light
Still and all, we'll treat you right
And this one of a Darker type'll
Give welcome to The One's disciple

Catnip I have, and that to spare.
You see, it grows most everywhere,
In my front yard and in the back.
The one thing I shall never lack
Is catnip.

Legends of Mernac holds many great works.

Legends of Mernac honestly makes girls wonderful.

Legends of Mernac hosts my good words.

I need to entertain.
I need to feel I'm useful to other people.
I need immortality.

Ooops! Too serious?

I swear by Barak's missing soul
That when you drop things down the hole
The perpetrator of that cavity
A demon is who's known as "Gravity"
To aggravate his other sins
He'll ofttimes knock you from your pins
To hear the echoes that resound
When that your arse do strike the ground
But here's where you must take your pick
To choose if to the ground you'd stick
Without this demon's impish way
You very soon would float away

I need the women of Mernac to think well of me (they needn't fall in love or anything like that; thinking well of will do nicely for now)


I need to keep it a deep dark secret just how easily I am seduced.

I need to write a song that sets the entire world to singing.

I need to not care that I frequently believe my life in Mernac is the RW.

A disciple named Canu knew not what to do,
When a Shadow Guard's offer did set him to smiling,
With her face like the roses and eyes like the dew,
And a manner he rapidly found most beguiling.
Now how can it be that a creature of Light
Should call to the Dark and still have it seem right?
But believe, I'm the last one to put up a fight
For that just isn't my way of styling.

Oh my dear Little Wind...the meter...the meter is all.

How shall The Other wear a skirt?
Methinks 'twould dangle in the dirt.
Indeed when that he did get spilt
That thing he wore was just a kilt.

She wonders, she says, what lies under the kilt
To produce that amazing and intriguing tilt
'Twill widen her eyes
If she should see it rise
No harsh words now, m'lady, or it surely will wilt

Methinks Mernacian ladies are awfully hard to beat.


Beware the Stereotype, my son; the jaws that bite, the claws that catch!


Whack-fal-de-daddy-o, there's whiskey in the jar...

If my poor thumb
Should grow too numb
My ukelele for to strum
'Twill be no treat
To take the heat
That comes from clicking "mail delete!"

Why is such a delightful action invariably a swear? Never ceases to amaze me.


Thee'd best not let The Other hear thee say that; methinks he's rather fond of demons.

Busy place tonight, the Bard mused, sipping thoughtfully at his (could it be seventh?)mead.

Now what had she said? Something about 'Both Disciples swivel in their seats'...aye, that was it. He turns from the long trestle, blatantly admiring the swivel in their seats.

Little by little, day by day
We grow more lit'rate in every way


The demons are already fat and lazy, m'dear. Oh...no, my mistake...that would be the Trolls.


Verily, a Mernacian prostitute is really enticing.

Not that you could find such a thing around here. Nor would want to, the Succubi being so exceptionally accomplished and all.

anyway...


Dogs openly dig Grumby, even ribald spaniels.

Canu stares after her, shaking his head in disbelief. "Never saw one actually grow feathers," the Bard muses to himself. Turning to retrieve his ale, the long sleeve of his coat brushes the strings of his lute, bringing forth a loud jangling and not-especially harmonious chord. A harsh laugh escapes him, and he tilts back his head and begins to sing:

Oh, we'll have another flagon
Of the Essence of the Dragon
And perhaps there'll be a shaggin'
But I shan't go on the wagon
Nay, not me, not I
Till the day that I do die

He pauses for breath, speaks with a quizzical expression passing over his face. "What's happened to wofie and the Fire Lady? It's gotten downright quiet around here..."

Ice whine: "Oh, I'm cold!...I'm free-e-e-e-e-zing!!...somebody warm me up!!!"

You're invited to the hall
Where gay balloons festoon the wall
Where you'll hear a mighty call
From the throats of one and all...

Words are the tools that writers use.
Employed correctly you can't lose,
But if you twist the meanings, honey,
It ofttimes comes out sounding funny.

With that said, Its time for this page to end. But please do not go for there will be more you know! I know there was more one liners than verse. But hey he makes me laugh til it hurts!