Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Read with Scottish Accent

A Redwall Poem

Oh a beetle maid sat in a glade,
an’ she lamented sadly,
‘mah love’s gone off tae fight the bees,
ahem feared that he’ll fare badly.

Those bumbly bees are fierce wee things,
wi’ stripey shirts an’ wee small wings.
Their bottoms carry nasty stings,
they’re feisty aye an’ buzzy!

Och mae Berty Beetle looked so stern.
He didnae think twas funny,
when ah’ said that ah’d no’ kiss him,
til he brought me some honey.

He took his club from off the shelf,
an’ said tae me so gravely,
ah’ll fetch ye honey back the noo’,
an’ he marched off right bravely.

Twas some lang time ere’ he returned,
mah poor love injured sorely.
Ah spread him wi’ some liniment,
an listened to his story.

Alas, poor me tae love a fool.
Did naebeast tell this fellow,
those bees that don’t wear fuzzy shirts,
are wasps striped black an’ yellow?

Wi’ a hey an’ a hoe an’ a lacky doodle dan
midst all this shameful fuss.
‘Tis not just birds who live in trees,
an’ not just bees that buzz!

~Rackety Tam

Monday, February 9, 2009

1 min 23 secs of your time please

Today's valentines day post is actually the song I have added to the blog. Please listen to the entire song, the end is the clincher, and it will only take a minuet and 23 seconds of your life that you will never get back. So . . . . sue me later for wasting your time.

Friday, February 6, 2009

Curse (working title)

The gods devised a horrid plague
Then sent it down to earth
A curse to dim the brightest day
To follow all from birth.

It holds the power to destroy
Kingdoms great and small
It also has the pow’r to kill
Any -- yea -- and all

There isn’t any cure for it
In time twill run it’s course
Till everyone is dead and deep
Such is its power -- such its force

The strongest die the fastest
Great men have fallen prey
Though they played by all the rules
Their dead and deep today

It lurks in every city
Infects each tiny town
Soon each will succumb to it
And then all will bow down

The gods devised a horrid plague
Then sent it from above.
Wrapped in a tiny heart-shaped box
And smiling called it "Love."

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

still a little rough

Love is the color red.
Death the color black.

Who knows what strange bed-fellows
This world may allow,
When Death and Love lie so close
A bitter sweetness -- a perfume foul.

Red the blush on a lovers face
Red the lips that smile
Red the pounding heart that falls
To all Love's ways and wiles

Black the rotting teeth
Black the spotted skin
Black the hole that takes her
When Death has claimed a win

A rose the symbol of forever love --
A rose the coffins favorite flower.
Rose petals given to prove his love --
Rose petals placed to mourn Deaths hour.

For red is at its boldest,
When lying on sheets of black.
And love is felt most keenly,
When Death has taken it back.


Monday, February 2, 2009

Not my favorite holiday

For the next two weeks I will post poems, both my own and other to show my true enjoyment of this "special" time of year. Today I start with a classic.

Roses are red
Violets are blue
Sugar is sweet
And so are you.

Where would the world be without this poem? Think of the countless Valentines day cards that would have been empty but for its simple little lines. And think of the thousands more which would been blank if they could not have written a parody of this rhyme. It boggles the mind! Below are some of my favorite parodies.

Roses are blue.
Violets are red.
If you agree,
You've got rocks in your head.

Violets are blue
Roses are pink.
Put on your shoes,
Your feet really stink.

Red r red,
Violets r blue
I luv chocolate
More than u!!

Roses r red
Violets r blue,
Sugar is sweet
And so r you...
The roses have wilted,
The violets r dead,
The sugar bowls empty
And my wrists r stained red... (sorry, you squeamish people.)

Fall in a bucket
Fall in a tub
Fall anywhere
But don't fall in love

Do you love me
Do you not
You told me once
But i forgot


half a league half a league half a league onward. . . a wind which whips the puddles dry. . .my friend you would not tell with such high zest. . . here where the world is silent. . .he took his vorpal sword in hand. . .nothing beside remains. . .the sun was shining on the sea. . . all the kings horses and all the kings men . . . lives of great men all remind us. . .

Once uttered, the words can't be unsaid
Once thought, a thoughts un-unthinkable
The written word can't be unread
A dream, once dreamt is unsinkable

So exposed our lives are filled
With a richness incomparable,
Which in time will always yeild
A damage unrepairable.