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Sunday, May 10, 2020

Sha-Na-Nahnsense or the World According to the Silhouettes: an Abecedarial Q&A

"Nirvana-na or
Connect the Dot Head"
(see verses for N below)
Ulysses Poe
chemical marker and
watercolor on copy paper
8 1/2" by 11"
     The Silhouettes were a doo wop/R&B group 
whose "Get a Job" lyrics feature the phrase
"sha-na-na" and variants and was a #1 hit on
multiple Billboard charts in 1958. Yip yip yip
yip yip...mum mum mum mum mum... 

Anna-na Karenina-na…?
Da! This novel’s Tolstoy’s.
Banana-nas…? Chiquita sends us
handfuls…boatloadsconvoys!

“Uncle Tom’s Cabana-na”…?
From ‘toon director Avery.
Diana-na…? A princess dies.
(The incident’s unsavory.)

Bay-bed Epifauna-na…?
They line the Chesapeake.
The Erin Isle’s Fermanagh-nagh…?
Their soup’s potato/leek.

Equestrian Gymkhana-na…?
A horse-‘n’-rider playdate.
Gabriel’s Hosanna-na…?
Judaic. Tough to translate.

Tennessee’s The Night of the Iguana-na…?
More Streetcar.
Jonah-nah…? Got swallowed
by a fish. We read his memoir.

Hurricane Katrina-na…?
A cryin’ shame! A pity!
Slovenia’s Ljubljana-na…?
It’s Cleveland’s sister city.

Peggy Lee’s Mañana-na…?
It’s “soon enough for” her.
Nirvana-na…? Lord Buddha asks,
“Which bliss do you prefer…?

Oh, Donna-na” moved up 
the Hot 100 when he* died.
The Amazon’s Piranha-nha…?
Go swimmin'…? You decide!

     * Its composer and earliest 
performer, Richie Valens

Manuel Jose Quintana-na…?
He (MJ...?*) penn’d Pelayo.
Bactrian Rukhsana-na…?
We must reread her bio.

     * Not to be confused with 
number 23, Michael Jordan. Among 
the alternate entries for Q is "Qasr 
al-Kharana-na...? It isn't in Ohio."

The riverboat Sultana-na…?
Its first three boilers blew.
Mexico’s Tijuana-na:
We shan't go there. Shall you…?

We studied at Champagne/Urbana-na --
went all four years.
Peruvian Vicugna-na Vicuña-ña…?
Dear deers!

Country girl Wynonna-na…?
Made music as a Judd.
Warrior princess Xena-na…?
She guzzles dragon’s blood.

Yerba Buena-na…?
It’s class’d as C. douglasii.
New York hamlet Zena-na…?
Its yards...? Green-grassy. 
                                             ‘Bye.

Friday, May 8, 2020

Bananagraffe on I N K S

     "Don't make me wear your shoes."
                                               -- George Carlin
Know I no one less narrow than I
who'd ply Parker,* papyrus 'n' ink
and, eluding all risk to be label'd a nisk,**
tilt towards tolerance, never to sink.
     I admit I’m no 10. No one is.
Who amongst us sits shiva sans sin…?
Not no beatniks, nor peaceniks, nor no-kinda-niks –
despite gender, creed, chroma of skin.
     Do you “yessir!” with ‘da,’ ‘ya’ or ‘si’…?
Curls your pupek far out or way in…?
Are you Ms., Mrs., Miss...? (I discount dolls dubb'd ‘Knis.’***)
Be to Mayflower Pilgrims you kin…?
     Is your uncle a knight who says “Ni!”…?
Be you one of them blue-bloody “in”s…?
Are you highbrow or hick…? If you’re Dutch do you snik…?****
Still...we’re fam’ly, no matter your kins.

     * Manufacturer of luxury fountain pens
     ** Someone or something godly
     *** Discounted because meaningless
     **** To sob in Sneek 

*  *   *   *   *

How to Compose a Bananagraffe: a Tutorial 

For those unfamiliar with the novel nonsense verse form 
Bananagraffe, here are instructions on how to fashion one 
version of that form for yourself. 

Begin by selecting a word, preferably a short one, one 
from which a range of other possibly smaller words can be
extracted -- and most importantly, one with anagrams. 

The key feature of the Bananagraffe is that from the letters
of the poem’s key word – in this case, ‘INKS’ – can be
extracted all words which will end the lines of the poem. 

E.g., select ‘INKS.’ 
Prepare an array of all possible arrangements of its letters. 

E.g.: 

INKS  INSK  ISNK  ISKN  IKSN  IKNS

NKIS  NKSI  NIKS  NISK  NSKI  NSIK

KSNI  KSIN  KNIS  KNSI  KINS  KISN

SINK  SIKN  SKIN  SKNI  SNIK  SNKI 

Convert to boldface those letter sets which spell readily 

recognized words, i.e., which are anagrams of ‘INKS.’ 
(With this and other word selections you make further 
on in the process, always select more rather than fewer. 
You may well end up not using every word you select.) 

E.g.:


INKS  INSK  ISNK  ISKN  IKSN  IKNS
NKIS  NKSI  NIKS  NISK  NSKI  NSIK
KSNI  KSIN  KNIS  KNSI  KINS  KISN
SINK  SIKN  SKIN  SKNI  SNIK  SNKI

Determine which derived commonly recognized words 
have rhymes which can themselves be derived from the 
key word. (How you match them is up to you.)

E.g.: 

SINK / INK    SKIN / SIN    KIN / IN    KINS / INS

Convert to italics those letter combinations which form 
unusual or pseudo words -- or even acronyms, keeping 
in mind how those are generally pronounced. (Those 
selected may be judgement calls and you may end up 
highlighting more than you need for your verses.) 

E.g.: 

INKS  INSK  ISNK   ISKN  IKSN   IKNS
NKIS   NKSI  NIKS   NISK  NSKI   NSIK
KSNI   KSIN  KNIS   KNSI  KINS  KISN
SINK  SIKN  SKIN  SKNI  SNIK   SNKI 

Select a range of additional words that can be derived 
from the key word. 

E.g.: 

I    IS    SI    “NI!”

(‘SI’ is Spanish ‘yes.’ “NI!” – amplified with quotes and 
interrobang – is an utterance of popular Monty Python 
knights.) 

Words from all those you’ve selected will become words 
positioned at the ends of the lines in your poem. From 
those you’ve selected, now select several to form the 
end-word pattern your poem will feature. The order in 
which they are positioned is up to you. 

E.g.: 

I       ink   nisk    sink
is      sin   niks    skin
si      in     knis    kin
"Ni!" ins    snik    kins 

In addition to lots of assonance because of the solitary 
vowel ‘I,’ the rhyme scheme determined is: 

A  B  C  B
D  E  F  E
G  E  H  E
G  I   J   I

The poem’s lines may thus be arrayed something like this:

_______________ I
_________________ ink
_______________ nisk
____________________ sink.
     _____________ is
____________________ sin
________________ niks
______________ skin.
     ________________ si
________________ in
____________________ knis
__________________kin.
     _________________ “Ni!!”
_________________ ins
______________ snik
___________________ kins. 

Now select a metrical pattern. In the example here, election 
to incorporate a phrase containing “knights who say “Ni!” 
suggests several possible patterns while eliminating several 
others. 

E.g.: 

, , _ , , _ , , _ (, , _) 

The first, third and fourth lines are alike; the third line adds 
the foot shown here in parentheses. 

It simply remains -- imaginatively with regard to content and 
with an ear to the sounds of vowels and consonants in the 
words selected – to fill out the pattern with clauses and phrases,
always remembering that the result should qualify as nonsense
verse.

Thursday, May 7, 2020

Runcibl'd Spooner: 2020 Asspirational

Which Chump-in-Chief, when voted out,
encounters hist’ry’s greatest rout...?
Trump! Donald Trump...? Donald Trump!
Put out to pasture...? Not in doubt.
At last that gonif's out o' clout.
Rump. Ta, null’d Rump...? Ta, null'd Rump!

     Moral:
...and freakin' stay out!

School for Connochaetes

Who'll train to tutor wildebeests…?
(Not crusty nuns. Not lusty priests.)
Hey, St. Jean-Baptiste de la Salle:
please lay on us Le Gnu Normale!

Wednesday, May 6, 2020

Runcibl'd Spooner for DP

Pain killer: Tylenol.
Cane pillar...? Rye grass -- tall.
     
     Moral:
Overdose…? Comatose.
Cellulose…? Adios!

Runcibl'd Spooner: From Cripples to Kellers to Kings

"...Yo' is my woman..." Porgy intones to 
Gershwin's Bess.
Woe is my yeoman. Medieval farming 
sure's a mess.

     Moral:
Life's quite hard on Catfish Row.
Fiefs...? E'en harder rows to hoe. 

*   *   *   *   * 

Blind by May. This year's be unlike 
others' Junes.
Mined by Bley.* Ms. Carla's "borrowed" 
all my tunes.

     * Carla Bley is an US jazz composer

     Moral:
Bedimm'd be days of him who dares
to misappropriate my airs.''

*   *   *   *   *

"Nine o'clock an' all is well."
The town crier.
Ropes le roi...then sits a spell.
The crown tier.

     Moral:
'Twill take a sisal to truss King Faisal.*

     * Who's donn'd a keski featuring 
a twill woven of sisal, perhaps...?

Tuesday, May 5, 2020

Pinot from Pomeroy's

Leo McKern portrays Rumpole the brief.
Of thespians, Leo’s Commander-in-Chief.
His treatments show Horace no plush toy from Steiff.
Yet, sadly, he lacks his C. K. Scott Moncrieff
to decipher his tales for the Mont Blanc massif,
perhaps with a "lost on the ice" leitmotif.
All erstwhile attempts have, en fin, come to grief,
as unfulfill'd readers exclaim, “Where’s the beef…?”

Nevertheless, it’s my fervent belief --
and, I'm quick to admit, this all comes as relief –
that soon shall arrive gli autor’ with a sheaf
of splendid translations which turn a new leaf
in the book of the spread of the Rumpole debrief.
(A further admission: I wholly would lief
if these versions be render'd by Ciaran O’Keeffe.  
Consider my verses your aperitif.)

Monday, May 4, 2020

Harold Ross: Who He...?*

     * A question Ross routinely asks his writers.

     Ross reportedly believes that the only two 
people everyone in the English-speaking world 
is familiar with are Harry Houdini and Sherlock 
Holmes. 
                                                 -- Wikipedia
Harold Ross, The New Yorker’s pere,
holds Anglo tongues lacking in savoir faire.
The only names stored in their chromosomes
are Harry Houdini and Sherlock Holmes.
     But Harold Ross, The New Yorker’s pere,
to edit and publish his ‘zine with flair,
brings so-o-o much more to subscribers’ domes
than Harry Houdini and Sherlock Holmes.
     And Harold Ross, The New Yorker's pere.
having gall to spare (chutzpah...? More than his share),
inquires of one best-seller (why...? 'Cuz he can!):
"Moby Dick: be he the whale or the man...?"

(More "Harold..." to come: a work in progress) 

Runcibl'd Spooner: Revisiting the Salodeum or Where's My Stimulus Check, Steve...?

"Thieving sodium's (like) crim'nal,"
sings the Treasury's own hymnal.
Fret not! Secretary Mnuchin
offers saline absolution.

     Moral:
'Tis so-o-o unfair! I stand impugned
of (as)salting Steve, an open wound.

Sunday, May 3, 2020

Runcibl'd Spooner: Visiting the Salodeum

Home from home if found at fault: 
dog house.
Soak'd: your ride in Epsom salt...?
Hog douse.

     Moral:
In receipt of retribution.
(Or some saline (ab)solution.)

Saturday, May 2, 2020

Runcibl'd Saturday

Frontiersman/hero (if you trust the spin):
Daniel Boone.
Deport all freakin' Rus who're Lorna's kin!
Ban Yul Doone!

     Moral:
Danny...? Yul...? Neither's cool.*

     * One alternate pronunciation of 'Yul' 
necessitates that the final half of the line be 
read 'Both be dull.' (Smoking, nonsmoking:
we are proud to offer both.)

*   *   *   *   *

Bombshell (blondine), symbol (sex).
Adorable Diana Dors.
Their nosh...? Tyrannosaurus Rex:
The 'orrible Yaidanadaurs.

     Moral:
That boobs make broads dyscraysic (sic)...?
Abroad since mid-Jurayssic (sic).

Litany Chanted Over Schrödinger's Box

Is he dead yet...? 'Yes' or 'No'...?  All'd 'God Bless!' if 'Yes,' you know.  Is he dead yet...? Don...