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HELP!!!! We have lost the words to " I am a Little Leery Hen "(see gutter rules #48b). We have one stanza submitted by ILoveSpike, but we need the other 11. Help us please to "remember " the others .
Thanks!!!!
Here is the first one:
I am a little leery hen,
who's now a little beery hen,
as i've been sitting in the bar,
thinkin' bout sitting in a car,
staring at Intrigue, like my friend:
little white duck.
i am a little plucky duck
who's got his beak obscenely stuck
my ex-duckess was such a dog
she left me for a trucking frog
and now i'm stuck in a marshmallow
save me from a death so shallow
I am a little penguin... hic!
Though always drunk, I'm never sick;
My eyes are crossed, my beak aslant,
With tipsy logic I enchant.
I wave at my adoring fans,
And I write all kinds of slightly off-beat poetry which always rhymes but never, on any occasion, even remotely scans.
Posted by: Sarah B (---.cable.ubr06.dudl.blueyonder.co.uk)
Date: August 02, 2003 10:57PM
I am a dyslexic dodo, well
I sing alrite but cannot spell,
My words are wibbly, vowles all rong,
And consonononants too long.
But really I'm a lovely lass,
And my potry deosnt rime eiother.
--------------
There's a hole in my creativity bucket and it's all leaked out.
I am a caddy cormorant
I often rhyme but sometimes can't.
I play the bugle, harp and horn
But never 'fore the break of dawn,
Lest someone shout out "Tally Ho!"
And decide roast cormorant's the way to go.
Someone do a Raven next!
Post Edited (08-03-03 07:07)
---
Those who forget the pasta are doomed to reheat it.
I am the Raven, whom you know;
I started in that verse by Poe,
But since I couldn't stand that nutter
I've come to join you in the gutter.
No matter how he may implore,
Will I return there? Nevermore!
I am a demon chicken, sí
who pecks at all who threaten me.
If you would cluck-cluck at my door,
I'd send you sprawling on the floor!
Tar you well, I then would,
And feather you for your own good!
---
Those who forget the pasta are doomed to reheat it.
I am an apathetic puffin,
Who really couldn't care for stuff.
In the gutter I remain
Trying to care about my brain.
And if I'm asked to give a toss,
Then I'll admit I'm at a loss.
PSD
==========
This is the work of an Italian narco-anarchic collective. Don't bother insulting them, they can't read English anyway.
I am a little nightingale
Got drunk by drinking too much ale
I love talking about peanut butter
Whene'er I entér the gutter
I lack two lines to end my stanza
So I'll stick to Rule XCVIII
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Colourless green ideas sleep furiously.
I am a lonely turtle dove
I slink and mope and dream of love
I often wish that I could fly
O'er streams and mountains way up high
No wait, I can! I'd quite forgot
Must've had a few too many last night
Posted by: Anonymous User (---.in-addr.btopenworld.com)
Date: August 03, 2003 09:19PM
Sarah B,
I am of the opinion that your poem has been mis-spelt. When you wrote :-
'And consonononants too long'
Surely you meant :-
'And consononsonants too long'
Then again you may consider my opinion to be consononsononsense.
I am an ugly duckling yet
An adolescent brown cygnet
But if I drank a drop of drink
From gutter deep I'd soar methinks
On swan wings white as driven snow
Unto a hostelry I'd go.
I'm a noisy cockatoo
I squawk loud and annoy a few
But other folk I entertain
When I pick on that Clot in the Brain
The ex-Thrombosis, he needs stuffin'
For thinking he is like a puffin!
People seem to be having a lot of fun with this thread, so we have decided to let it continue. Here is the next verse, written by yours truly.
I am a giant fluffy squirrel.
When people see me their hair curls.
I chase the birds up in the air,
And make them poop in people's hair.
Someday i just might get shot,
But, maybe, hopefully, perhaps not.
I am a little bitty toad.
You often see me on the road.
I'm usually hopping on the side,
Hoping maybe to catch a ride.
But mostly they just look me over.
Should be happy they don't RUN me over.
I am a little hoppy frog
I skip and frolick on a log
And in the heat of summer's day
I spy a fly. Dinner! oh YAY
But most of all I have to say
I'm glad they finally let other creatures into this poem--we can't all be birds, you know
I am a fluffy wallaby
I hop around the forestry
I eat the moss, I dodge the guns
I make good eating, 'specially my buns.
For they are large, and meaty too.
That's why I'm often in a stew.
I am a little hoppy bunny
People think I'm cute and funny
This i like because they let me
Shag all day, and don't reject me
Except for Anya, off of Buffy
She doesn't like things cute and fluffy
I'm just a little Jersey Cow
I chew the cud, don't ask me how
I give the milk thats turned to butter
the farmer likes to squeeze my udder
then he climbs up on a stool
but the rest of this is just so much bull