The Ballad of Rodimus Prime


(So wait… why does this poem exist? Blame it on Matt Kik, who followed up with a poem about Optimus Prime on his blog. This poem has a terrible meter. I feel it works better if you rap it. Yes, rap gets a bad … um … rap sometimes, but those guys at least know that quarter notes can be broken down into eighth notes. You can make things fit into meter by saying to faster. In other words, I think Jay-Z understands meter beter than friggin’ John Keats did.)

All the Autobots call me the Prime
I like to ride and I like to rhyme
Just cuz I like to speak in verse it don’t me my name is Wheelie
Rub the symbol on my chest if you don’t believe me.

I’m from the far flung future of 2005
Brutal to survive. They killed off Ironhide.
Flay me, fillet me, you’ll never get to slay me,
They tried to constrain me but they couldn’t Michael Bay me.

They used to call me Hot Rod, but my name is now Rodimus
Step out of my way because my transformation is the awesomest
Banana colored spoilers, a turquoise tinted cabin.
My engine is much bigger than whatever you imagined.

Put a trailer on my back and I’m some killer RV.
Got dynamic fuel injection. I’m kicking it with Arcee.
Going all topless like a Barbie pink convertible.
Come on, baby doll, life’s too short to keep it vertical.

I got the Matrix of Leadership lighting up my chest.
It came to me and not that punk Ultra Magnus.
Cuz I am the Chosen One, I’m the future
Leaving the Decepticons all in sutures.

Don’t mean to brag, don’t mean to boast
But I’m the illest Prime from coast to coast
My arm’s got pipes; my hood’s got flames
And with these massive cannons I’m coming in to make it rain

I’ve got the power, I’ve got the touch,
Come at me bro and I’ll put you in a Camel Clutch.
Try flex on me? Here’s my old friend Kup.
He’ll cart away your corpse when he turns into truck.

My fist is gonna fly into all your five faces.
My knuckles like to shuffle, and they call me the Eraser.
I’m upon the Sharkticons, I’m smashing in their teeth.
Then I’m sending in Metroplex to stomp them with his feet.

And that’s when you learn that there’s more than meets the eye.
Cuz I got the battle scars, and my freshness is bonafide.
Do you turn into a space train or a giant space gun?
My target sight is on your brain, I’m the dude who blew up Unicron.

So make no mistake my name is Rodimus Prime.
The greatest Autobot of all time.
I’ve got the touch. I’ve got the power.
Coming at your ass at 300 miles an hour.


2 thoughts on “The Ballad of Rodimus Prime

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