Gelett* Does Lewis**: Another in a Series of Alternate Poetical Takes on "The Hunting of the Snark"

     * Gelett Burgess, poet famous for penning "The Purple Cow." 

     ** Lewis Carroll, composer of "The Hunting of the Snark."

Though Baker’s never hunted Snarks,

With Snark hunts Ho’s* okay.

When Snarks one day prove Boojums, though,

That’s when Hi* fades away.

     * "Hi" and "Ho" are two of several names 

by which the Baker is known.

Edward* Does Lewis**: One in a Series of Alternate Poetical Takes on "The Hunting of the Snark"

     * Edward Lear, purveyor of the Limerick  

     ** Lewis Carroll, composer of "The Hunting of the Snark."

Said a Bellman from heaven knows where

To his crew (B-initial'd), "Let's dare

To go hunting for Snarks!"

What Carrollian larks

Had that Bellman from heaven knows where!

Ozzy's ABC: an Illuminated Alphabet by Friend of the Blog OCB

 

"Ozzy's ABC"
chemical marker on newsprint,
digitally modified, 18" by 24"
by OCB

Eggcentric Apple

Repost of a Newly Relevant Image

     NYT: Protests against the Thai government 

have gained momentum this summer.

    PlaysWell: Years ago, two friends of the blog

anticipated such goings on and preemptively 

reacted, each in his own way -- one paraphrasing

the American Declaration of Independence in a

Thai abugida (albeit with some unrequested 

redaction), the other electing to remain mum...

for the moment.

"Thai-Tongued...? Tongue-Tied...?"
chemical marker on copy paper
by Ulysses Poe

Four Variations on "Au Reservoir": a Reposting

"Four Variations on 'Au Reservoir':
'Hurray...Surf war!' 'Ol' Ray's sof'ware!'
'Oh! Razor wire!' and 'Haut Reyes Sere Fois'"
chemical marker on copy paper
by Ulysses Poe
 

A.A. Milne Meets E.C. Bentley or Passing the Torch: a Song

On Monday when the sun is hot
I wonder to myself a lot:
Now is it true or is it not
that times are ripe for cleriwhat…?
 
On Tuesday when it’s cooler, then
I find I feel the strangest yen
to take up quill or broad-nibb'd pen
and bang me out a cleriwhen.
 
On Wednesday when the weather’s fair,
I rise at dawn to take the air.
Then, later, in my Bardic chair,
I scribble down a cleriwhere
 
On Thursday when a cloud-chok'd sky
informs me winds and rains are nigh,
I hum an Erben lullaby --
or, maybe, draft a cleriwhy.
 
On Friday, skies are, once more, blue.
I down a pint – no more than two –
and think, my dearest dear, of you,
and write a nonsense cleriwho.
 
On Saturday (I see it now)
it’s time to take a final bow.
But just before I bid you “ciao!”
I craft a coda clerihow.
 
On Sunday, out has run my luck.
Re cler’whate’ers I fear I’m stuck.
Ta-dah! I hereby pass the buck:
YOU write a cleriWTF!

A Sextet of Cleriwhens

     Cleriwhens are much like clerihews but explicate periods 

rather than people, substituting chronology for biography.

As for cleriwhos, cleriwhats, cleriwheres and cleriwhys -- 

not to mention clerihows -- your guess is as good as ours. 

 

476:

Cor! Rome's in a fix:

Barbarians crash the gate. Bread and circuses pale.

(States fail: let's not pretend.)

A thousand-year empire -- the place wasn't built in a day -- 

fin'lly crawls to its end.

1066:

Harold would nix

the invasions of Tostig 

and Harald of Norway (“Hardrada’).

But William of Normandy whines, 

“To be King…? I’ve just gotta!”

1492:

Christopher cum crew

an ur-treacherous ocean, the icy Atlantic, 

with caravels triplex Chris cross’d,

where he found North America, 

this notwithstanding that no one’d reported it lost.

1776:

Militias of farmers and hicks

cry "Enough!" to the King of Great Britain 

and take on his troops.

Independence is won, though for white folks alone.

(Cf. DAR and sim'lar groups.) 

1984:

Eric Blair (George Or-

well) intro'd ' Big Brother,' 

'double-think' -- his novel help'd define

'em. (1984's the name: 

the book arrived in '49.)

2001: 

SF-ing fun

as apes learn from monoliths, 

HAL warbles "Daisy" and astronaut Kier

worries Earth from his translucent bubble. 

(Again, here, the name is a year.)

A Cleriwho's Who, the Religious Prophet Edition

"Oohlala Mandala"
chemical marker on copy paper,
digitally modified,
by Ulysses Poe

Siddhartha Gautama

leaves home, Pop and Mama.

Sid tries meditation, ascetic techniques,

then plops down ‘neath the Bodhi tree five or six weeks.

     Mary’s boy Jesus

keeps meat free from cheeses,

gets born in a barn (‘tweren’t no room at the inns),

and then's murder’d at Passover, lynch’d for your sins.

     Muhammad, a Meccan,

hears Gabriel beckon.

That angel says, “God’s Al-‘Ahad, Al-Wahid!”

thereby helping to jump-start Islam and its creed.

     Fred’s scion Don

works the art of the con,

claims, “I am The Chosen One.” Who made that choice…?

One political party who's “not very noice.”*

     * One mss, a late one, substitutes 

"A yahweheightless yahoo who's "not very noice."

A Spoonerful of Chuck

"C is for 'Computer,'
'Clinch,' 'Chuck' and
'Converge'"
chemical marker on
illustration board
by Ulysses Poe

Distance learning: Sign in, kids!

Your teacher's a computer screen.

List, tense Durning! Clinch your right fist!

Clinch your left! Now...lean, Chuck! Lean!

     Moral:

Tho' ev'rything that rises must converge,

some mornings, one just doesn't feel the urge.

The Trump/Biden Pre-Election Cognitive Test

      In the interests of a free and fair election, 

both candidates are referenced by name in the 

body of the text, Mr. Biden in the thirteenth 

line, Mr. Trump several lines thereafter, their

positions in the poem, their height or depth, 

reflective of their current positions, high or

low, in a cross section of polls.

Ring-ding-a-ding! So: if one would be King,

     of the

things one must do, what’s the very first thing…?

     To sing,

“Ab-ra-ca-dab! Badda bing, badda boom!

     Cu-cu-

ru-cu-cu-ru! Ding-dong-ding, ding-dong-doom!

     Eenie-

meen, eenie-mine! Fiddle-diddle-dee-dee!

     Ga-ga-

ga-ram ma-sa-la! Hee-haw! Ho! Haw-hee!

     In-a-

gadda-da-veed! Ja-da-Joe-ja-da-jing!

     Kan-kee-

kee! Kama-sutra! La-dah-doo-dah-ding!

     Ma-ma-

mi-a! Na-nu! Ob-la-di! Ob-la-Don!

     Pa-pa-

raz-zi! Quee-queg! Ra-ma-la-ma! Soup-çon!   

     Tra-la-

la! Ubu Roi! Va-va-va-va-va-voom!

     Whack-a-

mole! Xa-na-doo! Yip-pee! Zizz-zizz-i-zoom!”

     Having

sung the above, what’s the second-most thing…?

    One must

sing it all…backwards – IF one would be King.