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message 1: by M (last edited May 20, 2015 06:03AM) (new)

M | 10802 comments This is a thread for posting parodies you’ve written of famous poems. I’ll start it off with a few of mine.


Holly Rox Lee

It was many and many a beer ago
In a cocktail lounge by the sea,
That a maiden there danced whom you may know
By the name of Holly Rox Lee;--
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
than to dance and be ogled by me.

She seemed but a child. Some said she was wild,
In this cocktail lounge by the sea;
But we had what was--well, it was almost love--
I and my Holly Rox Lee--
Such that the bouncer at Cocktail Heaven
Envied her and me.

And this was the reason, two nights ago,
In this cocktail lounge by the sea,
That the bouncer followed me out in the night
And put bruises all over me;
So that when first light of morning came,
A sharp rock awakened me,
And I pulled some thorns from my clothes, and a burr,
And staggered home miserably.

I had tipped the angels at Cocktail Heaven
Often and liberally--
And they knew the reason (as all angels know
In a cocktail lounge by the sea)
That a jealous bouncer had been unwilling
For someone to have Holly Rox Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
That comes after two drinks or three--
After schnapps shots and Long Island tea--
And after I had recovered enough
To look in the mirror and see
That the face with black eyes, broken nose, and a mole,
Squinting back was none other than me--

I crept through moonbeams, my head teeming with dreams
Of the beautiful Holly Rox Lee;
And the smug bouncer's eyes opened wide in surprise
At the lead pipe I carried with me.
As the band played “Ebb Tide,” I pushed my way inside
But to stare at my stagelighted darling with pride--
at my bumps-and-grinds nymph of the sea!--
In a lounge by the side of the sea.


Eldorado

He was a sight,
Dressed as a knight,
And roared by with bravado!
An Elvis song
Twanged loud and long
From his green Eldorado.

He rocked and rolled
And wildly trolled
And sometimes he drove blotto,
Until around
A tree he wound
His gleaming Eldorado.

With all his strength,
He dragged his length
From the wrecked Eldorado
That with crunched glee
Blared merrily
A mambo by Prez Prado.

“Ride, boldly ride,”
At last he cried,
“But no more Eldorado!”
Over the mountains
He roared at noon
In an Olds Toronado.


The temptation to post some more is irresistable, though there are a few I had probably better not (such as a famous sonnet by Elizbeth Bare It).

The first two I wrote for an article called “The Chicken Cycle in English and American Poetry.” They appeared in a fake literary journal a friend of mine and I published a couple of issues of when we were in graduate school. My “facsimile of the rough draft of Poe’s ‘The Raven’” appeared in a “Special Thanksgiving Issue.”


Chicken Pie!

My heart leaps up when I behold
A chicken in the sky,
For then I run and grab my gun,
And when at last the shooting’s done,
There’s chicken pie!
It always pays to clean thy gun,
Or else it might blow up on thee,
And thou be hard to fricassee.


The White Chicken

All that matters
is the white chicken.


Stopping by H-E-B on a Broiling Evening

Whose car this is I think I know.
He just went in the grocery store, though.
He will not see me jump in here
to take his car to Mexico.

His wife and kids must think it queer,
this scraggly bum who smells of beer,
the screaming tires and squealing brake,
the hottest evening of the year.

At first he thinks there’s some mistake.
He shouts, and how his fist does shake!
The only other sound’s the bleep
and whine that police sirens make.

My cell is tiny. Roaches creep.
And with the company I keep,
I’m afraid to go to sleep.
I’m afraid to go to sleep.


message 2: by [deleted user] (new)

Hi, M. Just so you know, I enjoy reading your poems harhar I find your illustration of ideas entertaining. Yes, I'm bad in descriptive writing so I won't say anything, anymore.

I'll look forward to more of these :)


message 3: by [deleted user] (last edited Jun 03, 2013 04:48AM) (new)

Hahaha these are hilarious ;) At first I thought it was Chicken Pie in the Special Thanksgiving issue.

I like the facsimile too and I agree with Belly that you went all out with that.


message 4: by M (last edited Jun 03, 2013 04:51AM) (new)

M | 10802 comments Leslie, how nice of you to say! Thank you. (In my haste this morning, I got the posts mixed up. Sorry.)


message 5: by M (new)

M | 10802 comments Thank you, Alex!


message 6: by Ajay (new)

Ajay (ajay_n) | 1135 comments Very enjoyable reads, M! My favorite is 'Chicken Pie!'


message 7: by M (new)

M | 10802 comments Thank you, Ajay. It was a lot of fun to write. As I recall, there was another one in the “Chicken Cycle” article. It went something like:

Chicken, chicken, burning bright
In the chicken coop last night,
What inhuman hand or eye
Could have took a match to thee?


message 8: by Ryan (new)

Ryan | 5332 comments Haha, poor chicken! M, these are great-witty, dark and very funny.


message 9: by M (new)

M | 10802 comments Thank you, Ryan!


message 10: by Rebekah (new)

Rebekah (erie) | 26 comments These are absolutely hilarious, M, beautifully written! I think 'Stopping by H-E-B on a Broiling Evening' is my favourite, but only by a very slim margin.


message 11: by M (new)

M | 10802 comments Thank you, Erie!


message 12: by Jim (new)

Jim Agustin (jim_pascual_agustin) | 625 comments M, these are FUNtastic! :D


message 13: by M (new)

M | 10802 comments Thank you, Jim!


message 14: by Jim (new)

Jim Agustin (jim_pascual_agustin) | 625 comments Pleasure's mine, M! By the way, I just convinced a friend to join us here. I hope he posts his poems soon. He's hoping for critique. I posted a new poem myself in a folder here. :) haha


message 15: by Jocelyn (Ducky) (new)

Jocelyn (Ducky) (ducky113) Oh, these are awesome, M! Hilarious!


message 16: by M (new)

M | 10802 comments Jim, it will certainly be interesting to see what he thinks of the W.S.S.

Thank you, Ducky! Writing spoofs is one of my guilty pleasures.


message 17: by Elsbeth L.S.E. (new)

Elsbeth L.S.E. (elsbethlse) | 174 comments Oh my...I'm a huge Poe fan and Annabel Lee is my most favorite of his poems! You killed her! And it's hilarious! Enjoyed Holly Rox Lee immensely.

Have I ever told you you're brilliant? Yeah, I guess I have :D


message 18: by M (new)

M | 10802 comments Wow! Thank you, SheBlogger. I tried to keep the rhyme as close to the original as I could.


message 19: by [deleted user] (new)

Ha! Alex!


message 20: by [deleted user] (new)

Where's the facsimile, M? :)


message 21: by M (new)

M | 10802 comments Song of Philandering Angus


I went out to see Hazel Wood
because a fire was in my pants.
She was a foxy, luscious blonde
who eyed me at the fall church dance.
When my wife had gone visiting,
leaving me home stove up with gout,
I went to see this buxom dream,
who called a retired soldier out.

When I had laid her on the floor,
I felt a tiny spark of shame.
A key rattled in the front door
and a man bellowed Hazel’s name.
A pistol with a gleam of pearl
flashed in her hand. “Take the back stair,”
she whispered, with a groan. I ran
stark naked through the damp night air.

I have grown old with pondering
her hollow lands and hilly lands.
My wife knew not where I had gone
or where a blonde has put her hands--
how long we’ve rolled, or in what grass,
or how her lush hair comes undone,
her melons silver in the moon,
my walnuts blistered by the sun.


message 22: by Mark (new)

Mark (crawdadddy) | 402 comments Beautifully done M. I liked Holly Rox Lee, the root too of all my misery, in that kingdom by the sea.


message 23: by Trevor (last edited May 21, 2015 07:30AM) (new)

Trevor Ebanks A Dead, Dead Rose


O my love is like a dead, dead rose
That wilted in June
O my love is like the melody
Sung slightly out of tune

So fair wer't thou my bonnie lad
So deep in love was I
And I loved thee still, my dear
Until you made me cry

'Till you made me cry, my dear
And broke my heart for fun
I loved thee still, my dear
And then I got my gun

And fare thee well, my only love!
And fare thee well awhile
But I will hunt you down my love
Though it were ten thousand mile


message 24: by Paula Tohline (new)

Paula Tohline Calhoun (paulatohlinecalhoun) | 493 comments Just found this "game," and thought you might enjoy a parody of one of my, and many others' favorite Robert Frost poem, "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening."

This is not meant to bring down upon myself the wrath of Frost fans! Indeed, I am one of them, too. But recently, when I came across his famous poem again, I started to wonder how anyone could go for miles and miles on a horsedrawn cart without takng a bathroom break! Then it was I realized just why he had stopped by the Woods on a Snowy Evening.

STOPPING TO PEE ON A SNOWY EVENING

What place this was, I could not see,
it was dark, but there was a tree.
I did not think that it would care
nor know that I was filled with pee.

I hoped that no one would be there,
to watch me as I had to bare
my rear end like a bright full moon
just as white, but not as fair.

I wished it was a summer's night.
Instead, a cold wind was my plight,
and blowing snow. I'm so annoyed
I'd drunk that liter full of Sprite.

So now this spot has been employed,
put to good use-- I'd not enjoyed
the ache that made me stop to void,
the ache that made me stop to void.
***************

I have missed all of you, and hope to be back as a regular soon!


message 25: by Guy (new)

Guy (egajd) | 11079 comments Lol! I just stumbled into this thread. I didn't know it existed. Very very clever! And this lightened my waiting room wait. :-)


message 26: by Paula Tohline (last edited Jun 04, 2015 11:50AM) (new)

Paula Tohline Calhoun (paulatohlinecalhoun) | 493 comments Glad you liked it! I just stumbled on this topic last night myself!


message 27: by Mark (last edited Aug 30, 2015 06:39AM) (new)

Mark (crawdadddy) | 402 comments In my poem this week I used the syllable and rhyme structure from the song "Pulling Mussels From a Shell" by Squeeze (Difford/Tilbrook).

But behind the chalet,
My holiday's complete,
And I feel like William Tell,
Maid Marian on her tiptoed feet,
Pulling mussels from a shell.*

*refers to sex, quite a bawdy song.

---------------------------
Here's the original followed by mine:

"Pulling Mussels From a Shell"

They do it down on Camber Sands
They do it at Waikiki
Lazing about the beach all day,
At night the crickets creepy
Squinting faces at the sky
A Harold Robbins paperback
Surfers drop their boards and dry
And everybody wants a hat
But behind the chalet
My holiday's complete
And I feel like William Tell
Maid Marian on her tiptoed feet
Pulling mussels from a shell

Shrinking in the sea so cold
Topless ladies look away
A he-man in a sudden shower
Shelters from the rain
You wish you had a motor boat
To pose around the harbour bar
And when the sun goes off to bed
You hook it up behind the car

Two fat ladies window shop
Something for the mantelpiece
In for bingo all the nines
A panda for sweet little niece
The coach drivers stand about
Looking at a local map
About the boy he's gone away
Down to next door's caravan

But behind the chalet
My holiday's complete
And I feel like William Tell
Maid Marian on her tiptoed feet
Pulling mussels from a shell

----------------------------
now my rewrite:

Shabby Items Up For Sale

They do it every Saturday,
The empty field by Denny's.
Card tables from rebel pick-ups,
Selling anything to please.

Sunburned faces look away,
Dollar bills and cigarettes.
A girl too young to dress that way,
He fingers dirty Disney stamps.

Some may call it Market,
But that's really not complete,
And you can't quite place that smell,
Stumbling drunk as if I had three feet,
Shabby items up for sale.

Here's a man who just sells shells,
Among piles of rusty tools,
A redneck with baseball cards display,
Shower slaps stir pain,
Next card table is spray-on tan,
She paints her toes as if she cares,
Her daughter sleeping in the trunk,
Hugs a two-dollar teddy bear.

Some may call it Market,
But that's really not complete,
And you can't quite place that smell,
Stumbling drunk as if I had three feet,
Shabby items up for sale.

Neat, thin man, secluded gay,
Buys things for his friend at work,
A speeding twit is goggled-eyed,
His boy and girl begin to twerk,
A chubby girl feels a faint,
The wind it blows broken fan,
A tender man now goes astray,
Peeps inside the tinted glass.

Some may call it Market,
But that's really not complete,
And you can't quite place that smell,
Stumbling drunk as if I had three feet,
Shabby items up for sale.


message 28: by [deleted user] (last edited Mar 24, 2016 03:37PM) (new)

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf,
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day
Nothing gold can stay.

-by Robert Frost

My Parody:

The moon is silver gray,
A shade not seen at day.
It glitters on and on,
Though never really gone.
At morning we can trust,
Its shine will never rust.
So Eden never grieves,
Nothing silver leaves.


message 29: by Gashbeen (new)

Gashbeen | 167 comments I am currently working on a parody of one of Shakespeare's famous sonnets: Shall I Compare Thee To A Summer's Day? This is what I have so far.

Original:

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

Parody:

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art hot as the fiery bright sun.
Thou hath eyes with the beauty of the sky,

I would really appreciate some feedback!


message 30: by Anne (new)

Anne (annefrn) | 914 comments Aurelius wrote: "Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf,
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day
Nothing gol..."


I like your version much better than the original!


message 31: by Doug (new)

Doug | 22 comments Gashbeen wrote: "I am currently working on a parody of one of Shakespeare's famous sonnets: Shall I Compare Thee To A Summer's Day? This is what I have so far.

Original:

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Th..."


This is, of course, also one of Shakespeare's most loved psalms, XVIII, I think, but i have long thought of Bill as one of the best riddlers of all time and these lines are an example.

May I lust for you, young woman.
You are desirable and likewise in want
When you move, your fresh breasts jiggle

Most other lines also can be interpreted as earthly


message 32: by C. J., Atm Seeker in the "Lin Kuei" (last edited Sep 01, 2018 12:35PM) (new)

C. J. Scurria (goodreadscomcj_scurria) | 4198 comments Mod
Speaking of Shakespeare, here's a goofy spoof. Details a loose version of the prologue and a similar end line of a famous play: ;)

Two families, both kinds alike in redneck scene
In fair Woodbury where we'll say they be
From differences collide during new threats been
The horrors of the dead make ones toil, fare unseen
From forth the well-loved union of these lovebirds
Whose misadventures piteous is overthrown
This pair of fan made stars will probably live on; breaking comic details. Absurd.
As they group and divide amongst hateful villains
The continuance of those people rage
Every journey person's life would one day end
Amongst walkers like traffic and fallen bodies lay
As betwixt all this strife, death, and life is somehow hope
But all that matters is famous Maggie yet and her Glenn Rhee, yo!


message 33: by Doug (last edited Apr 01, 2016 06:46AM) (new)

Doug | 22 comments Spoofy, Shakey Bill, yo.


message 34: by Doug (new)

Doug | 22 comments SONNET xviii continued

And Summers' lease hath all too short a date;
Sometimes too hot the eye of Heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed.
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimmed;
But thy eternal Summer shall not fade.
Nor lose possession of that fare thou ow'st.
Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,
....So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
....So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

PARODY (or just the plain truth)

Youth lasts a limited time
Some people age faster than others
And many become feeble or ugly
And the prettiest eventually age,
It is as certain as the world goes on
In my eyes you will not change
Nor lose your inner beauty
or die or have a long illness,
If you live a long time,
....So while we live and learn,
....So while my body can, accept what I (life) offer to you.

My, how poetry can make a pick-up line sound so good!


message 35: by Jane (new)

Jane Jago The boy stood on the burning deck
Whence all but he had fled
He'd rather fire than Brexit
Which was doing in his head


message 36: by C. J., Atm Seeker in the "Lin Kuei" (new)

C. J. Scurria (goodreadscomcj_scurria) | 4198 comments Mod
Just updating my "original" poem I put on here... lol...


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