"Parodies Found" Your spoofs of well-known classics

Here begins a new thread called "Parodies Found." Write a spoof or parody of a well-known classic poem or popular song. Here's a couple to start the ball rolling:

The Horny Dude to His Squeeze

Hook up with me and be my squeeze.
We could sit around my crib and shoot the breeze.
We'll hang out and pop a cold six-pack
And order in deli for a tasty snack
(Not with cheap mustard but Grey Poupon.)
I'll even change the sheets on my futon.
And if some good **** would come our way–
We'll be so high we won't care if it’s April or May.
Really smokin’, in more ways than one!
Just a one-nighter, but we'll both have fun.
Dudes don't do commitment, and we don't say “please,”
But hook up with me and be my squeeze.


The Squeeze’s Reply to the Dude

Yo, Dude, if your text message was for real,
If you really said what you truly feel,
And you're not some Internet predator sleaze,
Maybe I'll hook up with you and be your squeeze.
Lose the brewski, spring for a bottle o’ wine
After you book us a table at a fine place to dine.
A “friend with privileges” you think you would rate?
Think again, Bro -- I don't put out on the first date.
Play your cards right you might get a couple o’ hugs.
BTW, I don't get high and I say no to drugs.
Swear that with other shorties you won't flirt or tease,
Then I might hook up with you and be your squeeze.


Aunt Shecky
All rights reserved.

After Tennyson’s “The Eagle”

It idles on the tarmac, with idle ground crew hands
Close to the runway where some other plane lands
And while another takes off, it stands and it stands.

We’d cross the sea faster with creeps and crawls.
So bored we all are, we could climb the cramped walls.
And like a dry leaf, each travel plan falls.

Aunt Shecky
All rights reserved.

Parodic fragments

after Robinson Jeffers:
this is the slippery
banana peel of the world, and what it waits for
is not our poise.


after T. S. Eliot:
Up and down
The women go
Mooning over
Leonardo DiCaprio.


Aunt Shecky
All rights reserved.

These are great fun! I especially love The Horney Dude to his Squeeze.

My First one, and I got lucky!

Parody: Raven #1

I haven often seen that raven with his crest all shorn and shaven,
Brassy-bold and all so brave and sitting on the bust above my door.
I have heard that ghastly croak as the fire I quietly stoked,
As The Night’s enfolding cloak sheltered me from a day so sore:
As the enfolding cloak of Night sheltered me from a day so sore—
Where the bird said: “Nevermore!”

Just one thing, though, that I wonder; on one thing my soul doth ponder;
Each time I see him sitting yonder on the plaster bust above my door.
One thing I must confess, that my soul is left to guess,
Each time I hear the bird express “Nevermore!” above my door:
Every time I hear The Raven croak “Nevermore!” above my door—
And that is: Who the heck is Lenore?

Dale Harris
© 11/14/97
Published in Mobious Magazine

Thank you, Granny, and Pendragon, I liked your spoof of "The Raven," but after what happened to the NY Mets this year I don't want to hear the n-word, "Nevermore."

- - - - -
Variation on a Theme by Thomas Gray

We know all about the paths of glory
and where they lead –
(beyond that point, less certain.)

Yet those who embrace a different pursuit
and humbly tread a diff’rent route
have been running in the very same race
and finish at the very same place.

O, Heartburn! My Heartburn!
(Parody of O, Captain! My Captain!)

O, heartburn, my heartburn, your fearful grip has seized—
And anchored deep within my chest; it hurts me just to breathe.
The time draws near, again I fear, the porcelain bowl awaits me—
With watery eyes ‘cross the room I reel, yes, t’was fate Matey!
Ow! Pain! Pain! Pain!
Augh! This racking burning agony!
Where the devil is that medicine cabinet?
I need Pepto-Bismol to sooth me!

O, heartburn, my heartburn, I feel each Jalapeno pepper—
They go down so smooth then in the end they rise and make me suffer!
With onion rings, and pickled things they return as for a haunting—
There shall be no more rest for me tonight with wretched fire all flaunting!
Here’s to you, old sport!
Plop, plop, fizz, fizz,
Would this were a nightmare because,
It’s hell just like it is!

The heartburn designs to answer me with bursts of even greater torture—
Ravaging all my insides like a cow carcass given to some butcher!
This vile agony maybe the very death of me, expiring from a flaming liver—
I make a silent vow if I survive the night to watch the contents I deliver.
The CD plays a favorite song
But I with grim and mournful tread—
Head for the John, the heartburn calls—
Oh, sweet heaven! Makes me wish that I were dead!

Dale Harris
© 11/7/07

Had we but oregano and thyme
this blandness, lady, were no crime

Of Mere Feeling

The balm at the end of the day,
Beyond the last chore, covered
In the bronze squeeze tube.

The emollient lies,
Ready to soothe as if knowing the meaning,
Of this aching feeling within my bones.

I know then it is the reason
That makes me happy, not unhappy.
The salve heals. I'm glad it's mine.

The balm sits in my nightstand drawer.
The scent is pleasing in the air.
My on-fire soothing sinews simmer down.

aaaaaaaaaargh, this is my first attemt at parodie and I suppose it's kinda slapstickl...............




COME live with me and be my Love,
and I will jump thee in the grove
beneath the tree-ish sycamore,
but you might think I am a woman of negotiable affection.

There will we sit upon the rocks
and I will wash your smelly socks
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
the hydro-engineer boss calls
his team.


There will I make thee beds of roses
complete with thorns and weevil bugs
to cushion our desperate hugs
No cap of baseball, and no turtle-
neck can hide the fat under my girdle
.

A gown made of the finest wool
Which from our pretty lambs we pull,
And to the poor beasts' detriment
we later into shreds will rend.


A belt of straw and ivy buds
with corals bleached by soapy suds:
And if these pleasures make thee sneeze,
you're really awful hard to please.

Thy silver dishes for thy vittels
even if you may prefer Skittles,
Shall from an auction house I steal
just to show you how I feel.

The peasant louts shall howl and prance
and we'll laugh our heads off at their dance:
If these delights thy mind may boggle,
Then live with me and let us snuggle.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by AuntShecky

Here begins a new thread called "Parodies Found." Write a spoof or parody of a well-known classic poem or popular song. Here's a couple to start the ball rolling:

The Horny Dude to His Squeeze

Hook up with me and be my squeeze.
We could sit around my crib and shoot the breeze.
We'll hang out and pop a cold six-pack
And order in deli for a tasty snack
(Not with cheap mustard but Grey Poupon.)
I'll even change the sheets on my futon.
And if some good **** would come our way–
We'll be so high we won't care if it’s April or May.
Really smokin’, in more ways than one!
Just a one-nighter, but we'll both have fun.
Dudes don't do commitment, and we don't say “please,”
But hook up with me and be my squeeze.


The Squeeze’s Reply to the Dude

Yo, Dude, if your text message was for real,
If you really said what you truly feel,
And you're not some Internet predator sleaze,
Maybe I'll hook up with you and be your squeeze.
Lose the brewski, spring for a bottle o’ wine
After you book us a table at a fine place to dine.
A “friend with privileges” you think you would rate?
Think again, Bro -- I don't put out on the first date.
Play your cards right you might get a couple o’ hugs.
BTW, I don't get high and I say no to drugs.
Swear that with other shorties you won't flirt or tease,
Then I might hook up with you and be your squeeze.


Aunt Shecky
All rights reserved.

---

hahahah, great minds think alike :) I didn't read your original post :D

Re Dylan Thomas' "Lament":

When I was a long-winded boy with a voice
Like the butt-end of an old oak tree
I rambled among the randy syllables
And knock-kneed knickers
Of the good-for-guffing girls
On Gillfeather Street
Among the struts and stumbles
Of the proud as peacock peonies.
I cared not a farthing
To make sense but just strung
A lot of la-dee-dah lacy-pants together
And roam and rollicked
Till the cud-licking cows came home!
A bloody bit of alliteration
And some assonance would
Do it up quite nice!

^^^ Hahaha. This is great, PM. :)

A reworking of "To a mouse" which I wrote about 2 years ago now after seeing a story in the NEWS thread about a mouse that ended up burning down a man's home.


To A Man, on the occassion of burning down his house in January 2006.

Big, stompin', greetin', murd'rous beastie
Oh whit panic's in thy breastie
Ah laf tae see ye sat there cursin'
wi' tears a rollin
It is me that cud dae wi nursin'
Flames put oot

Twas yer ain belief in Mans dominion
That broke natures solemn union
An justifies ma glorius revenge
that makes yer heart twinge
At the loss o' yer ain dear hoose
Instead o jist a stupid moose

I dinna doubt yer wife wis feart o' me
Sae whit? she saw naw hide nor hair o me
Some respite frae the world, a fair request
Instead thrown to a bonfire nest
An never miss'd

Thy huge big house, is noo in ruins
Its whitewashed wa's the fires strewin'
An no time now tae build a new yin
of stone n clay
An swift approaches noo yer wifie
Wi her bitin tongue

Thou saw me scurryin quickly past
wi wifie comin up the gairden path
An' straight intae the burnin' leaves
Ye thought tae throw me
Till straight back tae the hoose ah ran
Wi flames a lickin'

That wee pile o brick an' mortar
cost thee mauny a weel earnt nickel
Noo its gaun fir aw' yer trooble
Nae hoose or hame
Tae shield ye fae yer wife
Or mither in law

But Man thou art no thy-lane
In proving foresight may be vain
The best laid schemes of men an' mice
Aft gang agley
An leave us naught but grief an' pain
For promised joy

But yer still good, dinnae ye see?
house rebuilt by the insurance company
But och, I feel the flames still burn
Aroun' ma back
Burnin doon yer hoose wis a jist return
I laugh an' cheer