Slightly altered poems, for the person who said Romantic poetry was not interesting and relevant enough for modern timesWee, sleekit, cowrin tim’rous
beastie mozzie
O what a panic's in thy breastie Aye how tiny, aye how buzzy
Thou need na start awa sae hastyWhy must ye act like sich a hussy
Wi bickering brattle! And flee my clap
I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee By nesting still within my cozzie,
Wi murd'rin pattle! To spite my slap?
"To a Mouse", Robert Burns
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulnessSeason of salt and battered heart attacks…
"To Autumn", John KeatsYoung
Lochinvar Pam Anderson is come out of the west
Through all the wide border his name is the best… Something something something something something something something breast.
"Lochinvar", Walter ScottTiger! Tiger! Burning bright!
In the
forests X Box of the night
What immortal hand or eye Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?Quick! Guns out! Fucker, die!
"Tiger", William BlakeFair fa’ your honest sonsie face
Great chieftain Great CEO o’ the
puddin’ burger race
Aboon them a’ ye tak your place
Painch, tripe, or thairm - soft serve and fries
Weel are ye wordy o' a grace
As lang’s my arm Large as my thighs!
"Address to a Haggis Big Mac", Robert Burns
7 comments:
O Rose, thou art fully sick.
I met a traveller from Burger King
Who said, "Dude! Check out the deal on onion rings!"
When all at once I saw a crowd, a host of golden MacDonalds.
She walks in beauty like the night
on platform boots at such great height. (Homeboy Byron)
Loverly, keep 'em comin'.
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore -
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
A teenage hoodie gently rapping, to a ringtone from his i-pod
Baggy pants and arse half showing, cap on backwards, little sod
How I wish he’d bugger off.
You remind me of this fun little Poe-imitation I saw recently:
http://catallaxyfiles.com/2011/02/01/econo-poetry/
Post a Comment