The Duffling Collection

The supercomputer robot automaton

An engineering marvel and phenomenon

 

While NASA and Mensa fought over his time

He’d dream of white snow-covered mountains to climb

 

Not part of his programming, it just made no sense

Why his longing to snowboard was oh so intense

 

He hated equations; despised maxes and mins

He’d rather add some 360s into 720 spins

 

He beat the greatest chess master, found the last digit in Pi

But all he wanted was a halfpipe to launch him through the sky

 

One day the top scientists they thought up a fix

An “upgrade” to give his dreams of snowboarding the nix

 

On the day set for the install they looked all around

But the robot computer was nowhere to be found

 

On a pristine snowy hill somewhere far, far away

A new snowboarder was putting on quite a display

 

Full snow gear including hood, snow goggles, and visor

(covering every square inch of metal so that no one’s the wiser)

 

No need for food, rest, or sleep he could shred night and day

That supercomputer / automaton runaway

 

Time to time someone would shout, “That guy’s a machine!”

And a happier robot has never been seen…

with audio by Jordon Hodges

At the mouth of Ra’s tomb a passage opened wide
Revealing the catacombs that led down inside
The Forty Fearless Thieves! Never beg, rarely borrow!
Hopeful finders and keepers of a richer tomorrow!

Just a few stairsteps down in that dark winding hall
A hail of sharp spears, narrowly missing them all!
Thirty-three fearless thieves! Never beg, rarely borrow!
Hopeful finders and keepers of a richer tomorrow!

A few passageways on, by the torchlight they saw
Twelve thousand hairy spiders crawling out from the straw
Twenty-one fearless thieves! Never beg, rarely borrow!
Hopeful finders and keepers of a richer tomorrow!

Through a crack in the ground, a jagged bubbling fault
A river of magma that they would all have to vault
Eleven fearless thieves! Never beg, rarely borrow!
Hopeful finders and keepers of a richer tomorrow!

A few rooms further still, no treasure yet to be seen
A hundred foot basilisk with scales slimy green
The Forty fearless thieves! Never beg, rarely borrow!
Run scared through the desert; at least they’ll see tomorrow!

 

 

Pearl opened her eyes and then looked all around

There were enormous shelves filled from the ceiling to ground

 

With the loveliest clocks she had ever seen

(In fairness it may have all been just a dream)

 

A clock-master monk was the only one there

He spoke out to her without leaving his chair

 

“You may ask only one question, and take only one clock

The moment that you leave this place will the door forever lock”

 

There were cuckoo clocks that looked like oh so much fun

Fine gold pocket watches that were second to none

 

There were carriage clocks with pendulums swinging out through space

The variety made the room such a beautiful place!

 

Something odd she noticed, though almost impossible to think

Though there were countless clocks, they all seemed to be ticking in sync!

 

There were so many questions bouncing through Pearl’s head

She thought long and hard to decide which one should be said

 

Where’s this place and how’d I get here? Who makes these clocks and who are you?

But a tiny wall-clock caught her eye before her thinking was through

 

As she observed its finely crafted hands, and the gears that made it spin,

It stopped ticking before her eyes never to start again

 

“There’s one thing that I’d like to know before I select my prize,

can you tell me why this clock right here has stopped before my eyes?”

 

The monk sat there a while looking both content and weary

In a moment he would answer her one permitted query

 

“Every clock is ticking, some say they’re counting down,

It’s not our place to know how tightly each of them is wound

 

“But if such a thing concerns you, makes you fret or want to cry

Please take a note that while you do, some good ticks will pass you by”

 

Pearl would leave that place, if she’d ever been there at all

With a beautiful mantel clock, chosen from the furthest wall

 

The homonym vendor rode fast down the road

In a cart that was towed by a Natterjack toad

 

A great profit awaited, the prophet had foretold

If he set sail then his sale would increase tenfold

 

Through the arc of the gangplank, he boarded the ark

A fair fare to the shipwright allowed him to embark

 

On a cold foggy morn he did see on the sea

A flea-ridden ship –far too close to flee

 

Crossbones on a flag that he had nearly missed

The menacing ship through the cold morning mist

 

Surrounded by pirates, nothing to do but pray!

Falling prey to the pirates –quite an unlucky day!

 

Brandishing blades of a sharp polished steel

They tore through the ark searching for something to steal

 

The vendor was thankful, no harm befell him

But he’d lost his whole crop –every single last homonym!

 

Dejected, but still with a hope to succeed

He cast a line in the water past a patch of seaweed

 

Feeling a strong bite, quickly he reeled his line in

A stringed instrument, like a giant violin

 

A largemouth fish housed inside, but it simply won’t do

A bass in a bass? Heteronyms won’t earn revenue!

 

He threw them both back, but he wouldn’t quit

Though he was quite discouraged he had to admit.

 

Through that cold ocean water his persistence paid off

He’d fish till his haul was not worthy of scoff

 

For the second time now he felt on his line

A giant tug through the water, a very good sign!

 

A scaredy-cat fowl on a mammal with no hair?

It was a chicken chicken, atop a bare bear!

 

“Now that’s more like it!” The vendor did shout.

And once again with a smile he cast his line out.

 

A kind animal and four-sided shape (for which fun times were rare)

It was a dear deer housed inside a square square!

 

Before that day was up his luck, it sure did change!

He’d caught more than he’d lost, ten times over and some change!

 

 

There’s a tale to be told in the bay of Eel Lair
(one with no happy ending, so readers beware)

For those who could find the cave where it was stored
A bubblegum treasure would be their reward

A whole ship of explorers set after it one May
But a reef held them up far short of the bay

Most abandoned the quest, but four hadn’t yet
Their names were in order: Jim, John, James, and Chet

The four would set off on the dinghy that day
Forward, through the channel at Eel Island Bay

The first climbed aboard, looking up he did say,
“I brought a good compass to show us the way”

The second stepped in, looking proper and keen
“To ensure us clean water I brought this canteen”

The third stepped in cautiously, taking his time,
“I brought a sturdy ladder, there may be cliffsides to climb”

The fourth man fell in, bumping his head
“I have a mop,” he said

Their first test would come sooner than they might ask
The jagged rocks would make docking no easy task

James, extended his ladder out bridging the gap
“With my ladder we’ll bypass these rocks in a snap”

Jim, looking down at his compass did say,
“My compass will show us which is the right way”

John passed around his canteen as they waited
“If we all drink from this we’ll stay good and hydrated”

Chet climbed over last, following where they led
“Don’t forget my mop,” he said

While Chet climbed across, Jim raised an eyebrow
Pulling the others aside for a private powwow

“Chet,” Jim began, “there’s something we need to discuss,”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, it’s not you it’s us”

“We hope this won’t cause you too much pain and woe
But as we move on forward, we’ll have to let you go…”

The absence of Chet, was something of which they were hardly aware
As they climbed the cliffs leading on to the mouth of Eel Lair

On and on they went, making use of all their supplies
One final cave chamber between them and their prize

They could see the chamber door, just fifty steps ahead
But a series of puddles across the cave floor were spread

“Wait!” John shouted, “stop where you are, you fools!”
“those puddles are runoff from the Vile Eel pools”

“I’m sorry if the fear in my voice causes me to st-stutter,
“but one drop of that stuff would melt our boots like butter”

John hadn’t exaggerated, for what it’s worth
Those eels made that water the most toxic on Earth

“If we could only somehow thin this deadly eel-water out
brush these puddles aside, and clear a safe route”

They thought long and hard, but no solution was seen
With only a compass, ladder, and canteen…

This puzzle was one they would not overcome
And they would live out their lives, chewing boring stick-gum

 

The sun circles round the Earth. The best fuel to burn is wood.
Lines must be in proportion for a painting to be good.

Tell that to Copernicus or to the guy who made coal glow
You’ll be sure to get a laugh out of Vincent Willem Van Gogh

But of course coal’s the best, and there’s no way to sail round the world
Tell Magellan, or Dr. Hahn the day his first reactor swirled

But here we are today, everything’s as good as it will be
We’ve finally figured it all out? Is that what you’re telling me?

You can’t fly through the stars or travel back through time
We can’t teleport, or shift the paradigm

There really is no way to do these crazy things anyhow
I’d love to jump a bit ahead just to see who’s laughing now

with audio by Jordon Hodges

 

The Trolley Train to Nowhere, I don’t recommend

Why sign up for a trip when it has no end?

 

At ten cents a ride the price is so cheap

The opportunity cost? I’d say rather steep

 

Once you take up your seat it’s there you’ll reside

I don’t know why it’s such a popular ride

 

Patchly, the driver, as peculiar as can be

Then again, to drive that trolley you’d really have to be

 

You can walk to the back and choose a seat wherever

Be sure to get comfortable, the next stop is never

 

And if you lean in near Patchly as you deposit your dime

He’ll mumble four words: “we’re making great time”

 

Manus he fixed up rooftops, it’s what he knew how to do

When he got his daily pay he’d buy a shortbread batch or two

 

Born and raised in Scotland, a man of words so few

With his toolbelt tied around his waist he knew he could make do

 

An extraordinary thing did happen, mysterious in fact

A portal opened up, the walls of space and time had cracked!

 

It just so happened Manus, he stepped just then right through

Traveled back two thousand years, though he’d no desire to

 

A man spoke out to Manus, in his ancient crested cloaks

An army marching at his back past towns of common folks

 

“We’re at war with Castle Red—and Yellow, Green, and Blue—

We fear our crops may not come in, the plague concerns us too…

 

“There are marauders in the mountains, travelers best beware

The king has fallen ill and he’s yet to name an heir…”

 

Manus brushed his moustache, a furrowed brow he did possess

With his voice like a stern grumble, the cloaked man he did address

 

“’ave ya got rooftops ‘ere?” the man said, “Yes, we do”

“…then point me on to where they are, I’ll fix ‘em up fer you”

 

“Ave ya got shortbread ‘ere?” … The man said, “Yes, we do”

“…then point me on to where it’s sold, I’ll buy a batch er two.”

 

Manus fixed up rooftops, and ate his favorite food

On and on for years and years and little more ensued

 

Then a most unwelcome thing, with odds so very low

A second spacetime portal, straight through it Manus did go!

 

Though he still had no desire to explore these new frontiers

As luck would have it, forward he went –a hundred-thousand years!

 

A man spoke out to Manus in a shiny metallic vest

With rocket shuttles overhead, zipping from east to west

 

“The planet’s been struck by comets, we’ve fought off invasions too

I swear to you three times the Earth’s been terraformed anew

 

“We can teleport anywhere, we’ve seen lots of outer space

With nanotech and physics we’ve advanced the human race!”

 

Manus furrowed his brow; he met him eye to eye

With his voice like a low grumble to the man he did reply

 

“’ave ya got rooftops ‘ere?” The man said, “Yes, we do”

“…then point me on to where they are, I’ll fix ‘em up fer you”

 

“’ave ya got shortbread ‘ere?” The man said, “Sorry, but no…”

Manus stood in thought, his mustache twitching to and fro

 

The men stood face to face, and neither said a word

Then Manus spoke out once again and with the man conferred

 

“’ave ya got flour here? Sugar? Butter too?”

The man responded back saying, “Well yes, of course we do”

 

Manus brushed his whiskers; and his concern appeared to quell

“…then point me on to where they’re sold, and I’ll bidya farewell”

 

Good Michael the almost king, nose held up high

A bit of an ego but not a bad guy

 

From the highest tall balcony shouting decrees

Or spying on enemy castles to seize

 

Sitting down to his Feast of The Commonwealth

A man of the people, he cooked it himself!

 

Clapping twice fast once his plate was cleared

Calling for a jester but no one appeared

 

Plotting the future he sat there alone…

All he lacked was a palace, crown, kingdom, and throne

 

Have you ever lost anything on land, air, or sea?

It’s in Blackjack’s beard I can almost guarantee

 

What started with just razors, scissors, and the like

Soon expanded to sparrows and freshwater pike

 

Unable to trim it Blackjack let it grow

Now it swallows things up like an ocean undertow

 

Not just fish and birds; bikes, cars, trucks, houses too

The entire Ulti Mountain of Western Peru

 

Nearly everything and anything under the sun

Including that one thing that you lost (you know the one)

 

It swallows up planes like a great white swallows up barracuda

More sailors’ ships than a certain triangle near Bermuda

 

All those toy parts, batteries, and your holiday wreath

Atlantis, the missing link, General Washington’s teeth

 

How does this story end? I really wish I could tell

You guessed it! The end of this rhyme? It’s in there as well!