Snarkstitutes! The Monopod

I bleat, I pray, "Fie, feet of clay! 
Belay this playing god! 
My sling's the thing for mastering
the murd'rous monopod.

And, tho' 'tis weird, no evil's fear'd;

Most comforting, this rod."

Snarkstitutes! The Kraken & The Lubber Fiend

I, ten 'n' three, a Jack Tar'd be,
though then was sea legs lackin.'
Part man, part whelp, I plann'd (with help) 
to kill the kelp-clad kraken. 

I, arm'd with guns 'n' bullets (tons!),

was, too, bazooka packin.'

So: here's the gist: My peers insist

a posse be convened.

(There's but one rub: they're nuts to club

the loathsome lubber fiend: 

my Uncle Mitt has plann'd a hit;

his Smith & Wesson's clean'd.) 

Snarkstitutes! The Jubjub Bird

 

Jubjub 

Lewis Carrol's jubjub reportedly "will not look at a bribe." Uly Poe's jubjub...? Quite the opposite. 

Let's deputize and then advise
good gals 'n' guys to gird 
each rump 'n' tail, then dump in jail 
the ur-schlub jubjub bird.

He's overdue for hard time, nu...?

(Reprieve...? Don't be absurd.)

Snarkstitutes! The Hippogriff & The Ishigaq

 
Hippogriff 

Poet Ludovico Ariosto imagines his hippogriff as crossbred between an eagle and a horse. Artist Uly Poe  reimagines that creature as the fusion of a stallion, a griffin and Senator Bernie Sanders. 
 

A horse-(no lie!)-'n'-eagle scion...?

Why should I care if

he's run to ground. I'd hate to hound

the hipster hippogriff...

Ishigaq inhabiting host 

Ishigaq are shapeshifters believed to kidnap (and deport...?), then abandon children.

...nor can I hide the imp inside 

(in fact, I lack the knack).

Be it too late to imolate 

my inner ishigaq...?

Snarkstitutes! The Gorgon

 
Gorgon 

Gorgons are monsters with snakes for hair (and, in the case of this gorgon, shit for brains) who turn the unwary into stone by staring at them (as with a mugshot...?) 

Alack, it's true: one's jumping to 
conclusions reckon'd foregone 
ought not be done a jot -- when one 
goes gunnin' for a gorgon.

(Not only will he lie 'n' shill:

he'll grab a female organ.)

Snarkstitutes! The Formorian

Formorian 

Personifications of chaos and blight, the Formorians of Irish myth are often portrayed as hostile, monstrous beings.

Halt! Half a mo! Don't laugh. I'll show 

you rafts of cups I glory in. 
I won this bling while collaring 
the fatu'us foul Formorian.

(Some claim to hear, when one draws near,

the cant of chant Gregorian.) 

Snarkstitutes! A Bigly Bestiary

"For the snark was a boojum you see."

                                      -- Lewis Carroll

Live precious few, when pressured to 

recall their fav'rite lark, 

who'd favor us with answer thus:

"Mine's hunting of the snark." 

Instead, these days, knights errant trace

behemoths of a diff'rent race:

  

 
Acephalus 
 

Mythical acephali, headless, display their

facial features  across their torsos. (N.B.: having no head does not imply having no hair.)

What fool'd forget each pain, each fret, 

each almost-fatal sally

he sweated besting, then arresting,

awful acephali...?

(Remember'd, too...? Each sharp review

of Grampa's Rand McNally.) 

 

 

Bishop-fish 

Sycophants kowtowing to legendary bishop-fish are urged to purchase Bibles, autographed by these creatures, at a small discount. 

Who'd not confess each strain, each stress 

(though kvetching's not their wish)...? 

Their wont...? Explore the ocean floor

for beastly bishop-fish --

which, serv'd with chips on pirate ships,

most mates pronounce, "Delish!")

 

Chromandi 

Sharp-fanged monkey-like men who, insists  Pliny the Elder, roam urban jungles, are covered in blond hair and, tho' claiming "the best words," routinely resort to screams.

No reb'd mislay his trebuchet.* 

Such weaponry proves handy

when, marching forth, one dead-heads north

to capture cru'l chromandi, 

whose practiced art's to grab gals' parts --

their modus operandi. 

*In the US, read "...forget his trebuchet."

 

  

Djinn 

Supernatural beings encountered in medieval Arab traditions, these devilish spirits are shapeshifters, often held captive in bottles of many kinds and, released, wreak global havoc.

A young'un (three -- too gung ho...? Oui!),

I took it on the chin:

the Kids' Krusade! (Mistakes were made 

when disembow'ling djinn.) 

Echidna 

Living alone in a gated temple and worship'd by people of the nearby land, the half-snake Echidna bears numerous monstrous offspring.

Though now she's dead, I've often read 

of one (d'ya think I'd kid ya...?) 

who grabs her truncheon after lunch 'n'

slays ten men: Echidna!

(To best avoid this mongoloid,

each man of wit stays hid, huh...?)

 

 

(continued elsewhere)

My Big Green Box

On most moist, moonlit mornings 

post the vernal equinox, 

I wake to dual warnings 

from a pair of Plymouth Rocks,
their cock-a-doodlings not unlike 

twin arias of Bach's.
(Both cocks and I reside in my 

calliope-green box.)

My neighbors won't (or, so far, don't) 

berate me 'bout my birds. 

"An egg from you (just one would do) 

could smooth things, nu...?" (Their words.)  

Do pay we heed to neighbors' need...? 

The populorum vox...? 

We do, we three -- my cocks 'n' me 

and my goatee-green box. 

"This house of yours, its closet doors, 

its hardwood floors: why green...? 

We hues of blue could list for you -- 

three hundred seventeen,"

my neighbors fuss. I answer thus: 

"Good friends, if sev'ral blocks

around one treks, there's none erects 

a like Tex-Mex-green box."

 

Perhaps you've seen me on TV -- 

on "Wide, Wide World of Warts."

I spew some news and view "Who's Who"s 

in esoteric sports.

All this I do on Channel Two. 

(I'm still eschewing Fox.)

I, up at 3:00, down caffeined tea 

then flee my sea-green box.   

     (More verses, plus images, to come; a work in progress)

Jesuses, Gentle & Orange: (Pray Do Not Get 'Em Confused!) An Agony In Three Fits

     I 

Say "Hey!" to Gentle Jesus aka The Nazarene.
Don't pray to Orange Jesus aka The Tangerine. 

The first one's in a manger born (no rooms left at the inn).

The second one is born in Queens and sports an orange skin.

Say "Hi!" to Gentle Jesus who turns water into wine.

Bid "Bye!" to Orange Jesus, who's with grabbin' pussy "fine."

The first's a man of faith and hope -- and charity to boot.

The second launches charities then pockets all the loot. 

Say "Yes!" to Gentle Jesus, him who makes the blind to see.

A mess is Orange Jesus; lives there none as blind as he.

The first one also makes the deaf to hear, the lame to walk.

The other touts expensive bibles, books he looks to hawk.

     II 

Say "Yo!" to Gentle Jesus; he's a healer of the sick. 

Say "No!" to Orange Jesus, wheeler-dealer. (And a dick!) 

The first's a Jewish carpenter who some say walks on water. 

The second carps that, if he could, he'd doubtless date his daughter.

Say "Yah!" to Gentle Jesus; heed his "Children, come to me." 

Say "Nah!" to Orange Jesus and his university.   

The first's call'd Mighty Counselor, My Lord, the Prince of Peace.

The second's a misogynist -- who'd love to date his niece. 

Say "Oui!" to G! He feeds good folks with sev'ral fish 'n' loaves. 

Bend knee to O (or just say "No!") who exiles folks in droves. 

The first one is a friend to all; he's ev'rybody's brother.

The other (Vay! I'm sad to say) would even date his mother. 

     III

Say "Yay!" to Gentle Jesus. Lamb of God he's also call'd.

The other guy, call'd Ham of God (who'll ne'er admit he's bald)

is likewise known as Scam of God. (His shakedowns sometimes stall'd,

where 'pon he's call'd The Sham of God, tho' God's, no doubt, appall'd.) 

Say "Howdy, Gentle Jesus." He's the Way, the Truth, the Life. 

Kow-tow to Orange Jesus: he's with narcissism rife.

The first, who perish'd for our sins, tells followers he'll rise.

The next, a pear-shaped sinner, caught in 30,000 lies.

Say "Stet!" to Gentle Jesus. (Am I running short of rhymes...?) 

Say "Nyet!" to Orange Jesus who's the Hitler of our times.

So: which loves folks who after justice hunger, yearn and thirst...?

It ain't the guy exclaiming, "I should be Pope Don the First." 

     Fin     

The Final Four of "What A's NOT For...Still" Letters W Through Z

Winking Wilbur Wrights...? 

 

Wait, Watt.* No way's W** for four

winking Wilbur Wrights whilst wicked
warlocks -- wan-wigg'd -- wildly wave one's
worthless warrantee: 

*George D. Watt, together with iso-initial'd fellow Mormon Parley P. Pratt (see lines for letter P above), develops Deseret alphabet c. 1855. 

**Pronounced in two syllables, as in "Dub-yah." 

Xerox'd xerophytes...? 

 

   

X...? No, Xaver,* X ain't for four

Xerox'd xerophytes. X is...? (E)x-

actly: "ximply xwarmin'" xanthic

xylocopidae: 

 

 

*Franz Xaver Gabelsberger invents a shorthand and tags it with his own name c. 1817. 

Yakitori'd yaks...? 

 

Y...? No, Yeli,* Y's NOT for four

yakitori'd yaks. Yeah, yeah, you

you-know-what: Y's yakISH, yet's your

yashmak'd young'un's yak:

 

 

*Xia dynasty scholar Yeli Renrong invents Tangut script in 1036. 

Zipper'd zodiacs...? 
 

 

Z...? No, Zobo,* Z's NOT for four

zipper'd zodiacs. Zorillas...?

Zebras...? Zebus...? Zorses...? Zut! Z's

Zizi's** zaftig zack: 

 

*Liberian Wido Zobo invents Loma syllabary c. 1935. ** Oslo Cooper ("Ozzy") Bartholomew, call'd "Zizi" by his grandmother, is fond of his many pet zacks -- one of which is shown here with Ozzy's grandfather.

     Fin 

Coburn Copes: An Alphabet

      "My boy, you see me astonished." 

          -- Charles Coburn 

Hollywood actor Coburn, playing imaginary rococo-tongued con artist "Colonel" Harrington who is paterfamilias to the Eve mentioned in the title of Preston Sturgis's classic screwball comedy "The Lady Eve," delivers the above line to fellow Tinseltown thespian Henry Fonda playing the fictional fall guy Charles Poncefort ("Hopsie") Pike in the selfsame film. In the lines below Coburn's Colonel voices an abecedarial array of reactions, positive and negative, to a selection of famous fictional characters from classic literature and film. 

     "Some folks 

talk to the fauna; he's waltz'd with 'em, too. 

     Oh, yes:

Androcles sees me Astounded. 
     Bloody 

hell! Be there nothing this nothing will do...?

     Perhaps

Bartleby sees me Bemused.
     I am 

sadden'd: the Sagamore's last in his line.
     Oh, yes: 

Chingachgook sees me Confounded. 
     Reading 

Joyce, I suppose erudition is mine.
     Ah, but 

Dedalus sees me Disused."

 

Androcles and the Lion by G.B. Shaw; Bartleby the Scrivener by Herman Melville; The Last of the Mohicans by James Fennimore Cooper and Ulysses 

by James Joyce 

     (More to come; a work in progress)

  

Eglentyne sees me...   

     (The Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer)  

Frandaboo (?) sees me... 

Gilgamesh sees me...

     (Gilgamesh by Anonymous) 

Hannibal sees me... 

          (The Silence of the Lambs) 

Ishmael sees me... 

     (Moby Dick by Herman Melville)

Jabberwock sees me... 

     (Alice Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll)

Katisha sees me... 

     (The Mikado by Gilbert and Sullivan)

Lemini sees me... 

     (Black Narcissus by Rumer Godden)

Michaeleen sees me...

     (The Quiet Man from John Ford) 

Nicholas sees me... 

     (Nicholas Nickleby by Charles Dickens)

Oliver sees me... 

     (Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens)

Passepartout sees me... 

     (Around the World in 80 Days by Jules Verne) 

Quatermass sees me...

Robin Hood sees me...

Sherlock Holmes sees me... 

     (The Holmes stories by Arthur Conan Doyle) 

Turandot sees me...

Undershaft sees me... 

     (Major Barbara by G. B Shaw)

Voldemort sees me... 

     (The Harry Potter books by J. K. Rowling)

Wigglemuch sees me...

     (The Wiggelnuch by Herbert Crowley)

Xavier sees me...

Yellowrock sees me...

     (Skinwalker by Faith Hunter)

Zampano sees me...

     (La Strada from Federico Fellini)