promotional bump and set deadline - end of day Saturday August 10th
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promotional bump and set deadline - end of day Saturday August 10th
You haven't heard? I killed the bird!
I shot it good and dead.
Now comes the curse, but what is worse
They've hung it from my head.
They think that this will help them miss
The consequences. Well,
We all must die. I can't deny
With this I look like hell.
Looking good...
A parody from the Sound of Music's "My Favorite Things"
and The Ancient Mariner's "For all averred I had killed the bird"
Bird drops on noses, plucked feathers on chickens
Bright yellow yolks that are poached to perfection
Thanksgiving turkeys all trussed up with strings
These AREN'T a few of my favorite things.
Cream colored egg whites baked into a Streudel
The Colonel's fried chicken is sold by the oodles
Super Bowl Sunday serves barbecue wings
These AREN'T a few of my favorite things.
When the deficit bites
When spending cuts sting
When we're feeling had
I'll simply remember, as for all averred
That I had once killed Big Bird.
It is difficult for me to judge others poems, since I am not well acquainted with the "nuts and bolts" of the form coupled with the fact that the past few weeks have been extremely daunting at work, so my muse has been suppressed. On the other hand, I think it's safe to say that this particular category is not to be taken too seriously, so having said that I'll apologize in advance for completely missing a key point or other underlying message you were hoping to convey.
All right enough with the disclaimers!
Pendragon
Tony Rocco along with Camshaft, China Charlie, Sally, et al., did I get the connection right? Either way, I was reminded of the private eye saga you and Sancho had going that was quite entertaining. Messin with the mob is not a good idea, especially when it involves the kingpin. Killing the “bird” in life, only sealed your eternal fate to fear him in death. Prometheus perhaps.
Funny thing; at first read I wasn’t clear on the significance of or who is Tony Rocco, so I did a search and found this…
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7d63llHoKPA
Dark Muse
Haha, you had me proceeding with trepidation as I entered another of your dark realms, carefully taking in each word so as not to face embarrassment at overlooking a deeper sincere message you were trying to express.
A coo coo clock! masterful.
Prendrelemick
Forget the fact that I killed the bird, that’s beside the point.
I’m asking you, have you heard the word?
btw- Putting the original Trashmen aside, this is my second choice:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UjpHUXqHfCI
YesNo
Simple, clean and well metered, though I couldn’t tell what meter/form, all I know is it rolls off the tongue as smooth as a peeled boiled egg.
Melanie
Initially, I was struggling with the connection of the first two stanzas with the last one, but now I believe I got it; the “killing” of birds for gluttony or those that devour the budget. Hehe
You nailed the meter to the tune, the last stanza I was having trouble with until I recalled that part of the song; again it is on the money. A humorous piece.
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It was nearly a coin toss between Pendragon and Dark Muse. I couldn't locate a suitable coin and besides that would be taking the easy way out.
Pendragon, welcome to the winner's circle.
Well done all.
Thank you Gilliatt and congrats to Pendragon
Thank you for those thoughtful critiques Gilliatt. I liked your interpretation and it was humor, however, my poem was more literal and in reference to when Mitt Romney was campaigning for President and stated that he was going to cut the budget by cutting all funding to PBS. Big Bird is the star of PBS's popular "Sesame Street". PBS fans accused Romney of wanting to kill Big Bird. Fans were irate so SNL and other comedians picked up on it. So the poem is a lament by Romney as he back-peddled his statement and tried to say he was on Big Bird's side (romney being opposed to poultry processing in the poem). Romney never recovered from that nor other campaign missteps. In retrospect, I can see where I didn't give enough info about the PBS incident in my poem. That's why feedback is helpful. Thank you.
Congratulations, Pendragon!! Good poem!
Ah, thank you, thank you. Aside, Tony Rocca just sounded like a mob name that's all. As Freud said, "Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar!"
The new quoted line is from Lewis Carroll. It is in the poem of The White Knight from Through the Looking Glass.
"I'll tell thee everything I can, there's little to relate."
Winner posted last day of August!
God Bless!
Pen
"I'll tell thee anything I can.
The rest will have to fade.
Before the universe began
The cosmic egg was laid.
Its nest was that fresh field of green
Eternally aware
And when it hatched though yet unseen
It rushed out without care."
That's when he paused. I had to know
Who laid that wondrous egg.
Did silence mean his mind was slow
Or that I'd have to beg:
But why would someone do such things
So marvelous to see?
"You wonder why the singer sings?"
The white knight smiled at me.
I want to know the truth for once
And not some fairy tale.
I dared that knight. I'm not a dunce.
"No harm done when you fail.
And then it all became so bright,
Like light was just turned on,
The universe was set for sight.
The cosmic egg was gone."
Where did it go? You're so unclear.
Your evidence is slim.
I felt the knight move slowly near.
My eyes stayed fixed on him.
"Who wants to know?" He softly said
And then came this surprise:
"Who needs to know? The field's a bed.
The universe now flies."
The black knight suffered his disgrace
One that I might have made
While I was busy with that face
With cosmic eggs around the place
With wonders I would soon erase
As from my mind they fade.
A Tragic Tale of Lies, Deceit and Death.
I'll tell you everything I can,
There's little to relate,
I first set eyes on Billy Brown,
Coming in the garden gate.
He had a tiger on a string,
And a monkey on his arm,
A parakeet was on his head,
but he kept a sense of calm.
About his coat some field mice ran,
Pursued by a tabby cat,
And from his waist coat pocket,
Emerged a fat brown rat.
Around each leg there coiled a snake,
One red, the other blue,
And in the air above his head,
A flock of ravens flew.
He crossed the lawn to where I stood,
And raised his parrot hat,
In educated tones he asked,
If I had seen his gnat.
"I had him half a mo ago,
I swear I heard his buzz,
But now he's gone and wandered off,
It's the kind of thing he does."
"He's in with a bad crowd you see,
Of mosquitos lowly bred,
He's out all hours sucking blood,
He thinks it gives street cred."
I'd seen a cloud of midges,
Dancing in the sun,
but that was half an hour ago,
And certainly more than one.
There were greenfly on the peonies,
But their colour was all wrong,
So I couldn't tell Billy Brown,
Where his gnat had gone.
"If you see him send him home,"
Adding "Eric is his name,"
Then he whistled to the tiger,
And left the way he came.
When He'd gone I hung my head,
Filled with guilty shames,
For well I knew that on my arm,
Were Eric's squashed remains.
I'll tell thee everything I can,
It twas me.
There's little to relate.
I'll tell thee everything I can, there's little to relate
and when enough is laid
to say almost all that is made
too much would not aid
and hardly would not faith
even when it's late
life aims it rate judging it won't fade.
YesNo Great imagery, but you left out the second part of the quote: You had "I'll tell thee everything I can" but left out "There's little to relate."
Prendrelmick: Not only used the lines well, but I'm thinking you know the original poem.
Melanie: Very minimalist poetry!
Cacian: Nice little poem.
Enjoyed all the entries, but the nod goes to prendrelmick, who must surely have read the original poem!
You're up!
i hadn't read that particular one , but I know Carroll's style and tried to copy it - where you start a little oddly, then go completely surreal, while maintaining a perfectly reasonable tone.
Next. From the opening paragraph of Rebecca by Daphne DuMaurier
"Time could not wreck the perfect symmetry of those walls,"
have fun.
Stonehenge
I remember it like a dream
those many years ago
(more than mere years ago)
standing on mystic nights
beneath Mother Moon
within the sacred circle of stones.
They alone know the secrets
of their creation, and they remain
silent, watching guardians
of the world.
But there are those who ever since
come to pass through,
to kneel at their feet,
to pray to the cosmic skies,
to feel the trembling of power
that even then was ancient.
Now when there are fewer
who listen to the old gods
(though I assure you they are not dead, they are not lost)
as the world has reshaped itself
and long lay the bones of the ones
who hold the key to the mystery of the past.
I stand here once more,
though only briefly, as the ravens
come to my dreams and bring me,
and I am transported through time and space,
time could not wreck the perfect symmetry of those walls,
they remain untouched, ever daunting,
in all their stoic majesty,
just as they did once upon a time ago,
when I came to answer my calling.