Poetry: Duffer style

Why, thank you! *bows*

Not a Small World

It's a small world after all...
Just kidding!

It's not a small world, after all,
There are billions of people out there, right now,
Disney's got it wrong again,
It's not a small world, my friend.

I'm sorry, but you've got it wrong,
It's not a small planet that we're on.
More than eight billion people on seven continents,
Try to disguise it but we're on to this!

My sister and I wrote this together. *nods in acknowledgement to her*
 
"Mad Cloony's Ride"

Listen, my children, and you shall hear
Of Mad Cloony's ride through the clam sauce drear:
On the thirteenth of April, a Friday (they say),
He mounted a goose and went on his way.

He said to his friend, "If the oysters march
To protest what seemeth unthoughtful starch
(Oysters are shellfish as well, you see,
And of men, they hold, clam sauce should be free)

Hang the blue mustangs from north side dock
And urge them to smile on the face of a clock--
One if by southern way; two for the west;
Three if the oysters are oddly dressed.

Then he said, "Green thunder!" and leaped on his goose.
He took a great gulp of persimmon juice
Just as the moon pulled yellow wax from her ear
And cried, "I'd much rather good wax, and clear!"

A hard slap of webbing from soft goose feet,
A splash in the soup that was louder than meet,
And Mad Cloony was slopping through clam sauce grim,
Knowing a nation depended on him.

It was one twenty-three (claimed the village loon)
When he galloped there under the waxing moon--
To the city, I mean, Gannefrith Bay
(Called Gilliflut in sage Candle-lick's day).

You know the rest. In the books you have read
How the oysters grew sniffly and left for bed,
How Mad Cloony gurgled with animals queer,
And how people all waked and listened to hear.

*Bump*

Wandering the echoing ancient halls, I came across this little gem...

May I just say, this is an incredibly clever twist on that old classic! One must know what it's based on to fully appreciate how clever. Bravo.

That is all.
 
MORNING MUSINGS

As Phoebus grand his golden chariot did rise
To mount the highway of the morning skies
And tread the ruddy clouds of dawn
To break the day, alas, the night is gone!
Th'alarm clock roused with stentatorian ring
Proceedeth to do a loathesome thing
To shake fair Badger to his striped core
And send him bleary packing out the door
But wait, responding to the clock's rude yammer
A paw comes swift as Thor's great hammer
With downward arc that describes a fatal blow
And sudden, said clock, it ringeth no mo.
 
That's something new for the science scrapbook....

Badger (Taxidea taxus). A black-and-white creature that smashes alarm clocks. Warning: do not disturb.
 
That's the reason why I like sundials. No one has managed to put an alarm bell on one yet.

And now to keep on topic with this thread, a poem.

POETIC DOGS PAEAN A FIRE HYDRANT

I think that I shall never see
A poem as lovely as a tree
But as the autumn leaves disperse
My poem appears a lot less worse
 
An ode to Dufferland. (not very good)

When walking about the Duffery,
There are many things that you may see,
Not the least of which is the Tree.

A Lossy-Tree, marvelous and fair,
Who shades us from the Duffer-Sun there,
And holds evil squirrels in her piney hair.

These squirrels pelt us all with nuts,
And make us scream "Go! Run and
hide in your huts!"

Around this land graze operatic buffalo,
And kittens live in the Asylum you know.
Queen Derny spends a lot of time in deNile,
And minotaurets hunt crocodile.

But how could I finish a tour of this land,
Without mentioning the utterly wonderful CAN?
That illustriously hugely shiny bright pail,
Which once made proponents of the Butter-Knife wail.
It gives all us Duffers our power and art.
It is truly the pride of our heart.

And now you have sampled the Land of the duffers.
So go and eat Cheez Whiz you puffers.

-TheWarriorSatyr
 
To satisfy your needs for Telmarine references, here you go....

T is for the Telmarines this poem is writ about
E is for but a letter that does not appear in "lout"
L is for the longing for this poem to finish soon
M is but a letter that begins a word like "moon"
A is for the anger that poor Reepicheep had felt
R is for the rodent that was Reep beneath the pelt
I is something pundits say is never found in "team"
N is for niobium which has a silver gleam
E is for a letter that does not appear in "lout"
Put them all together, and it's "Telmarine" you shout!

-- Da Bajjah
 
Prospective? What does that mean?

Future.

To satisfy your needs for Telmarine references, here you go....

T is for the Telmarines this poem is writ about
E is for but a letter that does not appear in "lout"
L is for the longing for this poem to finish soon
M is but a letter that begins a word like "moon"
A is for the anger that poor Reepicheep had felt
R is for the rodent that was Reep beneath the pelt
I is something pundits say is never found in "team"
N is for niobium which has a silver gleam
E is for a letter that does not appear in "lout"
Put them all together, and it's "Telmarine" you shout!

-- Da Bajjah

Thank you, Mr. Badger. :D
 
I like your dufferland poem, TWS! Thanks for sharing it on this rather neglected thread! :D

To satisfy your needs for Telmarine references, here you go....

T is for the Telmarines this poem is writ about
E is for but a letter that does not appear in "lout"
L is for the longing for this poem to finish soon
M is but a letter that begins a word like "moon"
A is for the anger that poor Reepicheep had felt
I is something pundits say is never found in "team"
N is for niobium which has a silver gleam
E is for a letter that does not appear in "lout"
Put them all together, and it's "Telmarine" you shout!

R is for the rodent that was Reep beneath the pelt
-- Da Bajjah

Haha! :D That is great! I especially like line 'L'. xD
 
Over the years I have greatly enjoyed reading the various poems. But I have noticed that has been a severe lack of epic poem ballads about mankind's triumph over evil prepackaged robots. Have no fear Duffers.. such a poem has now arrived:

There was a young lad with a broom
Whose job was to clean every room
He worked at a plant that made stretchy pants
His boss was called Old Mr. Grant

This lad with the broom loved to clean
He was proud to be part of a team
He was never rude, vindictive or crude
And tried always to have a good mood

Mr. Grant was a nice enough guy
Had plans to retire by and by
He worked on the budget, tried hard not to smudge it
And cut costs where e’re he could fudge it

One day Mr. Grant had a plan
He’d get rid of this janitor man
He’d replace him with bots you could buy by the box
Oh, what an ill-fated plot!

When he heard of this terrible scheme
The lad with the broom turned quite green
He felt very sad, and a little bit mad
And knew it would only end bad

On the day the new robots arrived
It was a miracle nobody died!
They spread chaos and dirt, laughed with robotic mirth
And made plans to take over the earth

Their corrupted hard drives skewed,
They wondered if humans were food?
They planned to start munchin’ the very next luncheon
As they stood in a huddle a’hunching.

Then out of the blue sprung the lad!
A big spray bottle he had
He started a’spraying and as he did, saying:
“To your robot gods start praying!”

The janitor’s aim was true
The robot army he slew
Their circuits went weak from diluted bleach.
Then Mr. Grant rose up for a speech:

“Oh, brave young lad with a broom,
You’ve saved us from robotic doom!
You came through the door
Saw those bots from the store
You said, “What a bore!”
And slew all eighty-four.
You ended the war,
(With minimal gore)
You’ll go down in our lore,
We’ll sing songs galore,
Have parties and more,
As our love we outpour,
For this lad we adore
And…
…Now...
… Clean up that mess off the floor!”
 
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