Auntie's Anti-Poems

Hey! Has your love-life lost its glow?
Then head on down to Love-to-Go.®

We’ve got the hottest deals around
for hugs and kisses by the pound.

You can’t beat our price – do the math!
Just one mile off the Primrose Path.

We ask nothing and we don’t pry.
Our lips are sealed (but not too dry.)

We’ll tie you up but never down.
Your secret’s the best-kept in town.

Stop waiting for Cupid’s quiver.
Don’t forget – we can deliver!

Pick up fast love that’s freshly-grown
before it walks out on its own.

For love as pure as last year’s snow
come see us here at Love-to-Go!®


Remember to Ask About Our Valentine's Special!


(I hope the heirs of Mr. Cole "Love for Sale" Porter don't sue me!)

Two Short and Simple Takes on Genesis

I.

I’m grateful for this good, green earth
and thrilled when dismal skies turn blue,
but not sure how God made us all
or why He even wanted to.


II.

God had His reasons to create
this world of warmth, cool water, air.
No need to make it beautiful –
except to let us know He’s there.

Late-Night Agenda

“And so to bed.” –Samuel Pepys

Remains of supper congeal in the sink.
The movie reeked and left no lasting mark.
All news girls make the same fake sound, I think:
a squeaking puppy mimicking a bark.

A brief consideration of a brush,
toothpaste, a quick glance at a few pages.
New Boswells aren’t exactly in a rush
to bore the world with my life’s dull stages.

The day’s full failures stare me in the face,
attempting to spur consciousness of sin,
as room temps fluctuate around this space:
the cold outside, the loneliness within.

Next, missing dear losses stolen outright
by Death, stalking the ones it left behind,
and I don’t doubt it has me in its sight.
Oh, how free-floating care can vex the mind!

No nocturne to be sung, no lambs to leap,
no soothing female voice that softly streams
a tale to sail me safely off to sleep,
once more to chase perfection in stark dreams.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by AuntShecky

Hey! Has your love-life lost its glow?
Then head on down to Love-to-Go.®

We’ve got the hottest deals around
for hugs and kisses by the pound.

You can’t beat our price – do the math!
Just one mile off the Primrose Path.

We ask nothing and we don’t pry.
Our lips are sealed (but not too dry.)

We’ll tie you up but never down.
Your secret’s the best-kept in town.

Stop waiting for Cupid’s quiver.
Don’t forget – we can deliver!

Pick up fast love that’s freshly-grown
before it walks out on its own.

For love as pure as last year’s snow
come see us here at Love-to-Go!®


Remember to Ask About Our Valentine's Special!

---

Not Superbowl ad, but definitely late night infomercial material. An abundance to love here Auntie. Be back later for the other offerings!

I swear I commented on this ... some body is wiping my replies! I loved Late-Night Agenda. The depressing details and the poignant memories of a mother to close. Heartfelt and real.

Don't know whether to laugh or cry, so did both! Well done.

Baacck!

Enjoyed the wittiness in Now it's time for your catechism lesson. To read Late-Night Agenda right after marks a sad turn. Really touching.

Some Oldies and a Newie

Yours fooly is in the mood for a little nonsense today, undoubtedly making LitNutters ask, “That’s new?”)

In any event, I’ve dredged up a couple of parodies which first appeared in the “Thirty Poems in Thirty Days” thread from two years ago.




Here’s the original from Dodgson’s Sylvie and Bruno--

Quote:

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He thought he saw a rattlesnake
That questioned him in Greek;
He looked again and found it was
The middle of next week.
“The one thing I regret,” he said,
“Is that it cannot speak.”

---

--followed by my pale imitations:

He thought he saw new luggage
with handles and matching locks.
He looked again and found it was
a croc with monkey pox.
“Next trip,” he said, “I’ll have to use
a trash bag and a box.”

---------

He thought he saw a dragon
lashing a damsel to a rack.
He looked again and found it was
a tattoo on her back.
He tried to help her out, until
his laser jumped the track.

- - - - - - -

He thought he saw a topless bar:
lascivious, loud, uncouth.
He looked again and found it was
a place without a roof.
When it rains, the joint provides
Umbrellas for each booth.


Now for the debut of the following, which, while not a direct parody, is a homage to radio commentator Charles Osgood. Occasionally he’d treat his listeners with his colloquial light verse about the American scene. Yours fooly will be the first to admit that this doggerel isn’t nearly as witty and wise as Mr. Osgood’s offerings.

But see if you can guess the verse form.

Don’t Ask (And I Won’t Tell)

Unless you mean it, do not ask how I
am doing while expecting no reply.
Who truly cares if others are okay?
A polite greeting’s all one has to say.

Don’t fret –- I’ll still think you’re a nice guy,
acknowledging an acquaintance passing by
with the quick courtesy of a genial “Hi.”
Skip the inquiry on how I am today,

unless you mean it.

You don’t want answers and don’t want to stay.
We both want to continue on our way.
If I look a bit off, please don’t ask why --

unless you mean it.

http://www.online-literature.com/for...ad.php?t=68342

No idea about the verse form or who Charles Osgood is but the theme is universal.

As usual I like your nonsense stuff. I'm a nonsense fan.

Hi Auntie,

There are some tiny flaws in the scansion of the three shorts, but they don't really detract from one's enjoyment of the verses.

As for Don't Ask - well, that's rather good! a delightful comment on the insincerity of greetings. Still, the insincerity is perhaps preferable to that other kind of greeting that tells you how awful you look! There was an old music hall song about a chap who, though feeling generally in the pink, was greeted by a succession of his acquaintances who told him how poorly he was looking. Sorry, but I can't remember the artist or the whole song, but it was rather funny, I can remember that... :D Always a pleasure to peruse an Auntiegram ;)

Live and be we'll - H

PS I remembered! http://monologues.co.uk/You_Do_Look_Queer.htm

The croc series is a lot of fun, nothing "pale" at all. I always enjoy a croc or gator joke. The dragon piece is breathtaking. But the third one is a bit of a challenge to me. Mind shedding some filtered light through the umbrella? :D

Charles Osgood is unfamiliar to me. Without any comparison I'd say this definitely stands on its own. I must admit I'm guilty of that. So how you doing Auntie? :devil: (expecting a reply for this one)

Thanks everybody!

Prendrelemick:

This wasn't a direct parody of one of Osgood's verses, per se, but I wanted to emulate his lighthearted spirit and wry perspective of the American scene.
Here are some links to Charles Osgood's verses. I think they're charming:
Charles Osgood –“My POSSLQ”
http://2000clicks.com/graeme/LangPoetryFunnyPOSSLQ.htm

“Pretty Good”
http://holyjoe.org/poetry/osgood1.htm

“The Responsibility Poem”
http://theradicaluprise.wordpress.co...harles-osgood/

Hawk:
I thought there was something wrong! I'll try to fix the meter, but do you happen to know what form frames Lewis Carroll's ditty? (There are several similar verses in the novel, which can be found right here on the LitNet site.)

The rondeau above wants to be a diatribe against banality, in banal terms, I'm afraid. But did you ever hear a couple of old-timers chewing the fat? They try to top each other as to whose aches and pains are worse.It's not a conversation, it's an exchange of symptoms.

Haunted:
Thanks for reading these and your always-welcome comments. The last of the three nonsense ditties refers to a "topless bar," which disappointed the "he" in the verse who was expecting maybe a bunch of exotic dancers underdressed from the waist up. But the "topless" bar was described that way because it lacked a roof. Hence, the umbrellas go up during inclement weather. (You know a joke's no good when it has to be explained. Aw well, back to the old drawin' board.)

Hi Auntie. Well, The Mad Gardener's Song is written in simple iambic tetrameter alternating with iambic trimeter and is essentially a ballade form with six lines instead of four. There are nine verses in the original, although they aren't presented all together in one go. I don't think it can really be called heptameter verse because of the line breaks and rhyme scheme, but I have seen it described as such.

Live and be well - H

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Hawkman

Hi Auntie. Well, The Mad Gardener's Song is written in simple iambic tetrameter alternating with iambic trimeter and is essentially a ballade form with six lines instead of four. There are nine verses in the original, although they aren't presented all together in one go. I don't think it can really be called heptameter verse because of the line breaks and rhyme scheme, but I have seen it described as such.

Live and be well - H

---

Thank you for the above. Sylvie and Bruno is in my increasingly humble opinion Carroll/Dodgson's greatest work. I'm going to try re-post my "take" on that hilarious novel in the "Write a Book Review Section." It originally appeared in the "Thirty Poems for Thirty Days" thread on April 27, 2012.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by prendrelemick

It's like judging between a tree, a bowl of soup and a sunset.

---

(You meant “among.”)


Mixed Reviews

Long noodle strands hang off the yew.
A cloudy chowder ends the day.
The sun has deemed the ash as dew,
while minestrone shouts “Okay!”

Quote:

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Haunted:
Thanks for reading these and your always-welcome comments. The last of the three nonsense ditties refers to a "topless bar," which disappointed the "he" in the verse who was expecting maybe a bunch of exotic dancers underdressed from the waist up. But the "topless" bar was described that way because it lacked a roof. Hence, the umbrellas go up during inclement weather. (You know a joke's no good when it has to be explained. Aw well, back to the old drawin' board.)

---

Nononono it's not you, it's me! It's a clever piece, and I thought that might be what you meant, but I was looking for the neon sign that says topless bar, to connect the dots for me. So that's my only suggestion. I kept wondering what made him think it's a topless bar in the first place. I thought the umbrella was quite intriguing, I kept thinking "bottomless"….

Quote:

---

Mixed Reviews

Long noodle strands hang off the yew.
A cloudy chowder ends the day.
The sun has deemed the ash as dew,
while minestrone shouts “Okay!”

---

Great description, simple but vivid. Definitely a "soup" day. Makes me hungry!