Archive for the ‘Poetic form’ Category

The axolotl poem

January 6, 2025

1/6 it’s Epiphany and 2001 Insurrection Day, and there’s fresh news from the salamander hotline, a follow-up to my writing yesterday, in the posting “That’s a lotta axolotl”:

I have known about axolotls since the 1950s, when Mad magazine was responsible for potrzebie as a non sequitur nonsense word, ferschlugginer as a sort of all-purpose modifier of negative affect, … and axolotl as a nonsense reference.

Which elicited this comment from Robert Coren:

As you may not be surprised to learn, my thoughts also went to Mad magazine as soon as I saw the word. I particularly remember fragments of a parody of Wordsworth’s Daffodils …

I omit RC’s recollections, which are indeed fragmentary, after the first two lines (memory is a fickle thing); but the parody / burlesque (which I’d forgotten about) manages to be both clever (maintaining the form of the Wordsworth — 6-line verses of iambic tetrameter, with rhyme pattern ABABCC — and catching its spirit) and crude, just as a Mad parody ought to be.

(Rhymes for axolotl are not plentiful: the Mad parody uses bottle, twice, rejecting glottal, throttle, and wattle, and also AmE waddle, twaddle, toddle, swaddle, coddle, and model.)

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Hunky Halloween Hamlet

October 15, 2024

From Tim Evanson, on Facebook this morning, his image for 16 days to Halloween:


(#1) Hunky Halloween Hamlet, let’s call him Hunklet, contemplating Peter Pumpkin (who really should have a grinning face carved in him) instead of Yorick’s grinning skull

The Shakespearean context (written as connected text rather than as poetic lines):


(#2) “Here hung those lips that I have kissed” — so Hamlet cries in iambs dread

(though I note that #1 could be read as God — or Zeus / Jupiter — surveying the Earth; everybody sing: “He’s got the whole world in His hands”)

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Penguins, on the ice and with a cocktail

September 29, 2024

From the squadron leader of the AMZ Penguin Patrol, Michael Palmer, two recent items I’ll package together: a real-life penguin on ice in a delightful photo; and a collection of penguin simulacra (in various materials) overseeing an icy grapefruit Cosmopolitan.

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Volcanic verse

September 10, 2024

Well, silliness provoked by my getting, yesterday, this excellent fortune cookie fortune:

You will be awarded
some great honor

Which I was then able to combine with a postcard from Ann Burlingham (sent on 3/4/24), showing, of course, a volcano — Frederic Church’s 1862 painting of Cotopaxi in Ecuador — adding the requisite woolly mammoths (on a US postage stamp), flanking the fortune, to complete the composition:

For which I have supplied some verse, filched from Longfellow’s The Song of Hiawatha (1855), with its famously jogging trochaic tetrameter:

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The Cumberbatch-birthday risonymic riff

July 24, 2024

Posted on Facebook on 7/19 by James Fell: a riff of 12 risonyms on the name Benedict Cumberbatch (on the occasion of his 48th birthday) — 12 risible names scattered over a factual, plainly told, account of BC’s life, which begins at the beginning:

Today in history, July 19, 1976, Benedict Timothy Carlton Cumberbatch was born in London, England.

and then immediately refers to BC with a preposterous risonym:

Both of Benzedrine Cloacalsplotch’s parents were actors, and his grandfather served as a submarine officer in both world wars.

I’ll reproduce the whole thing below. But first some context.

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We’re AI Bozobots on this bus

April 14, 2024

… and we are chanting, chanting for our artificial lives … in a spasm of AI-onomatomania. It’s today’s absurd Zippy strip, arriving just in time to relieve the † dark mortality † of the day — Lincoln assassinated 1865, Titanic collides with iceberg 1912 (just wait until tomorrow, when the liner will actually sink):


Onomatomania, aka phrase repetition disorder, is a widespread affliction in the Zippyverse, triggered particularly by trochaic tetrameter phrases, as here: chatbot data mining (S S SW SW), neural network algorithm (SW SW SW SW)

There’s a Page on this blog with links to my (heavily Zippy-oriented) postings on chants, cheers, mantras, and onomatomania.

Morning wood word

September 18, 2023

(Brief but penis-dense, so not to everyone’s  taste; there are, alas, no images)

My morning name today — a natural for someone as phallically oriented as I am — was pillicock, according to the OED (revised 2006), an archaic BrE word for the penis. A penis word that actually vanished, as a reference to the male organ or any semantic development from that. This despite the fact that it truly contained cock ‘penis’ (the pilli part is etymologically obscure).

(Irrelevantly, my mind went on a dactylic jaunt — pillicock, petticoat, billygoat, jerry-built, marzipan — and from there to a delicious double dactyl, marzipan pillicock. A majestic almond-candy phallus; no doubt someone actually makes these. Or perhaps a sweet-tongued prick, that lying seducer Don Juan in his guise as Captain Marzipan Pillicock.)

I would have expected pillicock to have gone the way of pillock (entirely of obscure etymology), which the OED (revised 2006) tells us started out as

Originally Scottish. The penis. Now English regional (northern) and rare. [1st cite 1568]

But mostly went the way of prick and dick and putz and others in various languages, which went bad, went downhill semantically: pillock has ended up as

Chiefly British colloquial (mildly derogatory). A stupid person; a fool, an idiot. [1st cite 1967]

(And yes, morning wood word is an odd portmanteau of morning wood and morning word. Leading, I suppose, to thoughts of morning wood word and burn stein, morning burn being a novel alternative to razor burn. Ok, I’ll stop.)

Zerbina and Zippy sling trochaic tetrameter

July 26, 2023

In today’s Zippy strip, Zerbina and Zippy indulge their onomatomania — a love of certain expressions that leads the affected person to chant them over and over for pleasure — by slinging competing (trochaic tetrameter) product names at one another competitively, before falling passionately into one another’s arms:

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Engorged in hues of blue

February 16, 2023

(seriously phallic, so not to everyone’s taste)

The readings for the day, inspired by Max Vasilatos posting on Facebook about weird garden statues:


(#1) The Penisaurus Poems; there will eventually be acknowledgments of Edward Lear and Isaac Watts, respectively

The inspiration for these poetic eruptions was just one of those weird garden statues; from the beginning of my response to MV:

[Max wrote:] “There’s one that might land me in FB jail, though amazon thinks you can put it in your yard. I have known people with this sensibility.” — that would be the blue-headed WPODWO resin Dino-Dick (which, by the way, is clearly pretty small, though the company doesn’t say how small, only that it’s “compact”).

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Abraham Lincoln hosts two festivals of pleasure

February 13, 2023

(#1)

Thanks to this year’s alignment of the Gregorian and Roman Catholic church calendars and the schedule of official US holidays, the month of February 2023 has two periods of presidential pleasure in it — festivals of Lincoln and license (food and sex) embracing first 2/12 (Lincoln Darwin Day), 2/13 (today, LDV Day), and 2/14 (Valentine’s Day), and then 2/20 ((US) Presidents Day) and 2/21 (Mardi Gras).

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