Month: September 2017

with audio by Jordon Hodges

 

This rhyme’s about a monkey, jumping on a trampoline

On a giant bowl of Jell-O colored bright fluorescent green

 

Except he’s not a monkey, and not on a trampoline

He’s actually a tadpole on a Mexican Jumping Bean

 

No wait not a tadpole, this rhyme’s about a shark

Riding a rollercoaster in an undersea theme park

 

But not a rollercoaster, it’s really an aqueduct

2000 or so years ago, that an emperor did construct

 

But it isn’t here on Earth, it’s six trillion miles away

Which is roughly one light-year, as a scientist would say

 

The shark ages in reverse, so before his thirtieth birthday he’ll celebrate his thirty-first

And that’s not at all impossible in a parallel universe

 

Actually no, he’s not a parallel universe residing shark,

He’s a trapeze acrobat and he lives on Noah’s Ark

 

He doesn’t swing on ropes like your average acrobat

He swings to and fro on the tail of a Siamese cat

 

But it doesn’t hurt the cat; she’s made of wires and steel

Spinning through the stars on a cosmic wagon wheel

 

And the acrobat on her tail, is really a famous knight

And they’re co-writing a novel under the pen name Zelda Wright

 

But the aspiring writer knight and his friend the cat robot

Are neither a knight nor cat, when given a second thought…

 

This rhyme’s about a monkey… no wait, we’ve been down that route…

Why don’t you tell me what it is this rhyme is all about?

with audio by Jordon Hodges

 

The sun rose on a man with a shaggy grey beard,

In the middle of a lake on a boat that he steered.

He baited his hook and he cast out with care,

A shame and a blessing that no one was there.

 

That empty lone lake like so many morns before,

He’d never once brought a fish back to his door.

No one else fished that lake, not a soul anywhere,

A shame and a blessing that no one was there.

 

About to pack up, to reel in and head back,

When he felt a strong pull and he heard a great crack,

A fin smacked the water, all he could do was to stare,

A shame and a blessing that no one was there.

 

The fish that he saw, on the end of his line,

Was two and a half feet long, he swore at that time.

He fought all he could, but in the end got nowhere,

A shame and a blessing that no one was there.

 

He rushed home to his wife, to share the great story,

Of the meter long fish in all of its glory.

He spared no detail, ‘bout the fish oh so rare,

A shame and a blessing that no one was there.

 

In town the next day he told all who would listen,

Of the five cubit long whale he’d hooked while out fishin’.

They hung on his words, not a tale could compare,

A shame and a blessing that no one was there.

 

How big that fish is today, well I’m sure I’ve lost track,

I last heard eight yards, told to me two months back.

With each telling it grows, and I say that’s only fair,

A shame and a blessing that no one was there.

 

The Clawtree Manor’s haunted, there’s no denying that.

The first proof that you’d see would be the ghoulish welcome mat.

 

Then the ghostly graveyard gardener, a pale shade of blue,

Would usher you inside with a song on his kazoo.

 

Then Frankenstein’s old monster, as a bit of an icebreaker,

Would offer you a macaroon, he’s really quite the baker.

 

Follow the music upstairs, and the next thing that you’ll see,

Is the ghastly pharmacist with an accordion on his knee.

 

And the ghost of the old Duchess, who’s anything but mean,

Playing along beside him on an ashen tambourine.

 

Just a few steps farther is the spectral zombie beast

Making preparations for the daily potluck feast.

 

Stay and dance a while and be sure to eat your fill

And when the meal is over you can test your Yahtzee skill.

 

With the ghostly pirate captain and his whole ghostly crew

They’d play all evening if you’d like until the night is through.

 

But if you do grow tired of such a classic game,

You can party with the wolfman and they’ll join in all the same.

 

Being bored around the wolfman? Not even a chance.

He’s fond of karaoke and he loves to polka dance.

 

Soon they’ll light a fire and propose some friendly toasts

(They don’t need it to stay warm, but prefer to be good hosts)

 

Every ghoul will gather by the fire with friendly laughs and cheers,

And tell every joke they’ve ever heard dating back a thousand years.

 

The Clawtree Manor’s haunted, of that there’s no denial,

But if I happened to pass by I think I’d stay a while.

 

Tickity-tackety hackety-sackety bouncing woven ball,

Tickity-tackety hackety-sackety never let it fall.

 

Tickity-tackety hackety-sackety for the record bound,

Tickity-tackety hackety-sackety fell upon the ground.

 

Tickity-tackety hackety-sackety nothing more to say,

Tickity-tackety hackety-sackety kept playing anyway.

with audio by Jordon Hodges

 

Pirate ship Blackmast, most feared on the seas,

Most sailors run screaming with trembling knees.

 

Pirate ship Blackmast, with its skull and bones,

Frequents the nightmares even of Davey Jones.

 

Pirate ship Blackmast, sprung a small leak,

We’ll plug the hole with a spare parrot beak.

 

Pirate ship Blackmast, still pretty feared,

Eyepatches, peg legs, an occasional beard.

 

Pirate ship Blackmast, large hole in the deck,

We’ll be moving in no time just give us a sec.

 

Pirate ship Blackmast, still somewhat feared,

Whole bow underwater, ship looks kind of weird.

 

Pirate ship Blackmast, still doing just fine,

Is there any chance you could throw us a line?

 

Dexter Sterling McBeam

Hard at work it would seem

 

Discarded sun visor

Vertical stabilizer

 

Two old feather dusters

Auxiliary thrusters

 

Reentry cruise control

Brown paper towel roll

 

Fuselage airlocks

Empty tissue box

 

Tape up the seams

Keep out space beams

 

Cardboard spacecraft

Friends they, all laughed

 

Space ship, is done

Four, three, two, one…

 

All across the hall a commotion was heard,

At a fancy dinner party on Sunday the third.

 

Mr. Detective, the host, ordered everyone freeze,

The main course was missing: sautéed lamb with chick peas,

 

Mr. Miner said firmly, refusing to budge,

“My hands are so dirty, you would have seen a smudge.”

 

Mr. Mailman swore he didn’t know its whereabouts:

“Wasn’t me, I just got here, been busy with my routes.”

 

Mr. Butler yelled, slamming a fist on his tray,

“Don’t look at me, I’m too big a cliché!”

 

Ms. Doctor just laughed and kicked up her feet,

“I can’t be a suspect, I don’t even eat meat.”

 

Mr. Rancher stuttered, somewhat at a loss,

“Couldn’t be me, I’m allergic to the sauce!”

 

Mr. Detective then spoke as he paced all about,

“The culprit’s in this room, I now have no doubt…”

 

“Messrs. Rancher and Miner and Butler speak truth,

And so does Ms. Doctor, says this seasoned sleuth…”

 

“Mr. Mailman I don’t believe a word that you say,

Explain yourself sir! There’s no mail on Sunday.”