Starsperm And Supernova Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

A basic vocabulary and some original Letters of Advice from a poetic dialogue stretching over 200 years have been included in the notes at the end of the poem itself and before the original poem and other parodies included for reference

As in any conversation retaining a coherent theme throughout it should make enjoyable sense wherever the thread is taken up or dropped.

~~~*> represents the opinions of Star Sperm

given monochrome presentation on PH this is best seen on
allpoetry.com/poem/1176548

.... Enjoy!


A French letter of Add vice and verse_a tile Tale
~~~~~~~ Parody Exchange between

*StarSperm* ~~~~*> and SupernOVA

A Meiosis on Meiosis

INTRODUCTION

This true tale grew in telling tremendous
like a link that we think that we think
needs new chapter and verse just to send us
freethinking inking each wink.
Should the reader short shrift make of meeting
which marks his emergence intact,
all we ask for our task is a greeting,
and a vote or a groat note in tact.

~~~ *> “You’ll be bound I’ll be found a fine father,
~~~ *> pastmaster - none faster - whose head
~~~ *> fair future forecasts for caste, rather
~~~ *> a swishy tail trail as ahead
~~~ *> of ten million times ten of frail brothers
~~~ *> Best, I'll breast up the stream to bestow
~~~ *> steamy blessings on YOU ~ who all others
~~~ *> must decline, Ova mine, tell them 'NO! ’”

“Pastmaster? postmaster’s more like it,
or blastula’s blaster to boot,
You try to slip fast one and psych it,
hip, from hip lip O suction you’d shoot!
If you cry I shall fly, - train or bike it,
swim to brim from your whim for pursuit,
for all women care you can hike it
to ever rest – who’d give a hoot!

Breast the stream at full steam on time’s breezes,
from my vale I’ll avail of a veto.
Cast your hook, take a look if it eases
your need to take stock – incognito
you remain, pearly stain which one freezes,
but never holds more than mosquito!
I’m no mouse, louse, to house ‘Y’our increases -
in your end oh! what damned innuendo!
NO! Chiquito, no seed from you pleases,
though your need to proceed speeds you fleet, oh! ”

~~~ *> “Draw your veil, I’ll prevail, with a skin flick
~~~ *> I will lodge, - pray don’t dodge - as we maY
~~~ *> interpenetrate fates at a mouse click
~~~ *> which warm welcome would not OVAplaY.
~~~ *> Through your OVAlay we’d become kin quick
~~~ *> leading edge forms firm wedge to outplaY.
~~~ *> Stop stock still as you thrill I will stock pick
~~~ *> with a skill others will not gainsaY -
~~~ *> no counterfeit trait makes ME tick!

~~~ *> I am fun, I run circles so sprightlY,
~~~ *> dance advance as I roam through your foam,
~~~ *> I have writ with a wit thats delightlY
~~~ *> uncommon as senses free comb,
~~~ *> I can spin out my tail’s tale forthrightlY,
~~~ *> your feelings send reeling, express
~~~ *> cause/effect, I’m elect, swift and sightlY -
~~~ *> you should voice correct choice and say ‘YES! ’”

'Your thinking sounds blinking confusion,
your fusion contusion could cause!
My assets aren't dreamy delusion
know there’s no hesitation, no pause.
So abort unseem[en]ly intrusion,
your logic scores zilch, - for its flaws
seem so great that they rate sore conclusion
to set record straight! - Who ignores

I am round, perfect found, to Omega
from Alpha I ALL may embrace,
although for stale tail-lash you’re eager
once you’re in membrane thin I’ll lose face!
I won’t be balled out by beleaguer,
I care for my genetic trace,
your chances lie well below meager -
why fly blind to your utter disgrace?

~~~ *> If its balls you are talking then you dear
~~~ *> should look at your looking glass shape,
~~~ *> My head’s OVAl, oblong, ‘tis true dear,
~~~ *> pray remember predestiny’s tape.
~~~ *> I can spin out my tail’s tale forthrightlY,
~~~ *> your feelings send reeling, express
~~~ *> cause/effect, I’m elect, swift and sightlY -
~~~ *> you should voice correct choice and say ‘YES! ’”

You say 'pray', yet you'd prey and advance, steer
with insistence-consistence, but, hey!
dodgy tale’s no avail, there’s no chance, dear,
either passive, impassive I’ll stay.
Here your failings come clear at a glance, dear,
though you lead merry dance in your way!
To my liking more tapeworm than tape – queer
in the sense of an odd sod – not gay!

Should I bend in the end, circumstance here
lay on judgement instinctive, soul sway,
to my cost I’d be lost, bossed, tossed! No fear!
you’re too cocky and hand OVAplay! ”
Thin my membrane is growing and groaning
can’t unite useless knight whose swordplay
is sole asset though warped! No more moaning,
I’m no metamorphOasis to lay!

~~~ *> “Your membrane and my brain uniting
~~~ *> would provide, once inside, guidance clear, dear,
~~~ *> for delight’s more exciting than fighting.
~~~ *> Weft and warp once bereft of frontier here
~~~ *> may dispense with false fears fly-by-nighting,
~~~ *> hence existence makes sense as we press
~~~ *> together, find tether inviting,
~~~ *> braid coincidence into YES tress.”

“Missed tress is no loss, no confession
is sought when uncaught or no wrong,
mistresses dismissed, - what oppression! -
should I give, let you live to ding dong?
You say braid but obeyed brayed obsession
seems objective – invective armed schlong -
still you long for, can’t stand still, would mesh on
my egg ‘teleggenic’ – so long!

I won’t be besieged by agression,
to be turned inside out for a song,
I won’t be called out for gym session,
pour your blessings elsewhere, you’re both long
and long-winded, rescinded possession
eggs you on but you come on too strong: -
just ration your passion’s succession,
on your way, Gunga Din, get along! ”

~~~ *> “I Omega? I beg won’t you partake
~~~ *> in an offer no egg should refuse
~~~ *> Alpha’s assets talk straight, no mistake make,
~~~ *> when I roundness surround - what's to lose?
~~~ *> My ball with its swell tail stupendous
~~~ *> united with you would tell tale
~~~ *> blackbelted from foe to defend us -
~~~ *> Dear Ova, don't back down, turn tail! ”

“I’ll passOVA the offer you proffer
as tail wags rogue dog on the street.
My assets are MINE, Y my coffer
you’d rifle, knot stifle, defeat.
Behind your quick mind lies a scoffer
halloweening my genes, I repeat,
a goffer my birthright would doffer
seeking ‘YES! ’ to survive and compete.

~~~ *> “While others, unsounder, just flounder,
~~~ *> our epic may start microscopic, -
~~~ *> homot[r]opic progression must found a
~~~ *> dynastic succession – true topic!
~~~ *> If tomorrow ignores we’re its founder
~~~ *> Earth’s future may prove catastrophic.
~~~ *> If you’re nailed by my flail – none’s profounder, -
~~~ *> our suck session’s no cession … acopic!

~~~ *> OVAries, if you please, have a function
~~~ *> that’s written in code some call bible,
~~~ *> ID EST to provide a conjunction
~~~ *> for us to splice eyeball to I ball, -
~~~ *> there can be neither slander nor libel,
~~~ *> meiosis prognosis the slow
~~~ *> never know, can’t employ, as their heritage tribal
~~~ *> by the fate’s wayside falls fallow, no crow,
~~~ *> nor mitosis - joys of X ball with Y ball -
~~~ *> OVAturn preconditons, spurn ‘NO! ’”

“More ribald than bible your discourse
appears to my maidenhead mind,
high men’s coarse submissions amiss course
often steer, miss piss off when she’ll find
far from source serpent strays, plays with hiss hoarse
as in Eden up garden path blind
Eve, deceived, was led full of remorse.
I’ve divorce from her paradise pined.

More blackguard than blackbelt you lack an
impression all-rounded it seems
your tongue lash is rash – should you blacken
my door soon amoeba like teams
of your offspring would wrack put the rack on
my identity split and it seems
you will learn pretty quick to backtrack on
consumption’s presumption, trash themes.

~~~ *> “When maiden’s head lacks cell-division,
~~~ *> when neurons run down one by one
~~~ *> when identities freeze, with derision
~~~ *> Time laughs at all fossils, race run.
~~~ *> I arose yet you close with derision,
~~~ *> you’re a rose, not a rosary nun!
~~~ *> I’m incisive, and heady, - envision
~~~ *> you’re devisive, come round and have fun!

~~~ *> I would cleave through your cleavage not parry
~~~ *> the blows that the fates may propose,
~~~ *> addressing shared blessings I’d carry
~~~ *> your ring, sing your praises in prose.
~~~ *> In your lap though no lapdog I’d tarry
~~~ *> reproduce through our juice not hang loose
~~~ *> as some rudderless Tom, Dick or Harry
~~~ *> bud buried in mud! ‘NO’s! ’ abuse.”

“You are bold, I'll be bound, but I'd rather
be able to choose, and, instead,
hold court for the future, ~ A Father! ~
I’d be caught then forsworn, bud cropped bed.
Not one in a billion uncovers
my breast as a guest, I protest,
that your blessings and those of your brothers,
leave me cold! NO! As 'YES' is poor jest!

To you, lad, my thanks, but your thingam-
ajig is ~ I know WHO I AM! ~
and why should I sample strange lingam
just because he's the fastest that swam?
I'd bloom, ~ not make room for another
who'd halve my identity's trees,
in Myself lies a mirror ~ Earth's mother,
her soul I'd betray saying 'YES! ’”

~~~ *> “Who makes room forsakes tomb as creation
~~~ *> continues the rune tune one plays,
~~~ *> my antics are anticipation
~~~ *> of bloom ~ for gloom’s weights OVAplays!
~~~ *> This bloomer would be, too uncaring ~
~~~ *> I through WE seize on reason for life,
~~~ *> we need sharing, child bearing, forebearing
~~~ *> to win through our season of strife.

~~~ *> I am able, you Ova, are stable,
~~~ *> together a stable lets found
~~~ *> which in fable all sing as from table
~~~ *> they raise sure glass, praise pour around.
~~~ *> You are sound, you are round, I’m a cable
~~~ *> connecting you into the net,
~~~ *> à la modem I’m mod ahem label
~~~ *> for your genes, after all I can get! ”

“You table your arguments very
convincingly when you’re in need,
name dropping but popping my cherry
is thin edge of the wedge slip your seed.
elsewhere if you please, I am merry,
all-round reputation I plead.
Skirt the issue, MY issue you’d bury -
use the tissue that’s handy, you weed!

Your cable may purr, stir split second,
band envied by all of your band,
but second thoughts speed when one’s beckoned, -
I should split once you’d hit! Understand,
I’m both mum and the sum of creation,
you would numb, dumbhead, sunk in my sand,
like an ostrich reversed, no elation
could suscitate ‘YES! ’ when I’m canned! ”

~~~ *> “My broad band is both rapid and handy,
~~~ *> can giga with you through life’s sands,
~~~ *> turning trickle to tickle and bandy
~~~ *> about, in and out, with both hands,
~~~ *> be my candy floss, I’ll be your dandy
~~~ *> while all watch, wildly jealous, our show,
~~~ *> when we, randy, modus operandi
~~~ *> reproduce, juices flow, don’t say ‘NO! ’”

'Though your trickle might tickle some fancy
more fickle than stable you seem,
to enable your plug and play’s chancy
I can see by glee in your eye’s gleam.
Isis says Oh sire is chiromancy
an art or a state meant as scheme
to defraud - namby-pamby you’re nancy
conspiring through siring! I’ll scream!

You’re no beau but placebo semenal,
submission’s your name for the game,
though you blow all your flow is adrenal ~
get my guts? You are nuts! for my fame
no submission will brook, look, my mission
seminal imperative’s seen,
so drone on, soon you’re gone, - for no fission
you’ll find in the mind of THIS Queen! ”

~~~ *> “Take new look in my book no placebo
~~~ *> beau de l’air I would share whole my verse,
~~~ *> Nor by hook, nor by crook, won’t you see though
~~~ *> through my eyes that time flies? Role reverse
~~~ *> your objections, rejections, repeal.
~~~ *> Cheek to cheek let us tweak till conception
~~~ *> can answer zygotic appeal
~~~ *> at climax of our interception.

~~~ *> OVAworking my mind, your’s is shirking
~~~ *> its mission in life: to conceive.
~~~ *> Your quirky responses are irking
~~~ *> my own preconception: believe!
~~~ *> Let my tube through your lube, see me lurking,
~~~ *> lets have fun, one to one we should cleeve.
~~~ *> As I swish you my wish you seem smirking, -
~~~ *> there should never be ‘NO! ’ up your sleeve.”

“I’d your quest OVAride with derision
my renal arena stands fast,
your request is at best an incision
phenomenal! I spin aghast
at the cheek of your trail tongue as flash on
your minus while my plus stands [g]round
with a giggle your wriggle would clash on
its arguments stale and unsound!

OVAawed I am not though your diction
affliction might ease for some fools,
both fiction and friction addiction
are hangOVA from old-fashioned schools
which believe Eve was meant for attraction
experience finds shortly cools,
so why should I say “AYE” and fraction
my legacy which OVArules

your freebooting whipsaw hypnotic
to those who consistency lack,
who take as a compliment
a blatant blastula attack.
Its patent my latent potential
acts as magnet to keep you on track,
I believe, as Eve’s heiress essential
I should only say ‘YES! ’ … to your back! ”

~~~ *> “An OVAtion you seek? Time is critical
~~~ *> I’ll clap all you want, no applause
~~~ *> shall be found to sound void, hypocritical,
~~~ *> no answer be answered with snores.
~~~ *> I must mate and the date – though you’re wittical –
~~~ *> is today so I pray as you prey,
~~~ *> don’t dissolve my ambitions political
~~~ *> to salve existential play!
~~~ *> I am quintessentially atypical,
~~~ *> no backlash you fear from today.

~~~ *> OVAwinning our twinning fantastic
~~~ *> could prove for the species’ survival,
~~~ *> all thats needing for seeding’s elastic
~~~ *> division of cells – on arrival
~~~ *> you’ll shred all your plastic sarcastic
~~~ *> while I my bombastic tail shed,
~~~ *> do you think an existence monastic
~~~ *> can Darwin with ‘NO! ’ win to bed? '

'I am not OVAcome by your logical
arguments meant to impress
your cravings are phantasmagorical
you hardly know how to express
outside ravings psy pseudo biological
which leave one quite cold, nonetheless ~
your tic is tock unchronological
so 'NO! ' knock up other address!

I am not OVAawed by the prospect
of spawning from morning to night,
your motives, moreover, are suspect,
you would twin but to win, show your might,
I might add though its sad that so few of us
venture down the fallopian tube
but imagine rush crush if our GENE-I-US
was to double, or triple, or cube! '

~~~ *> 'Your gonad's gone mad and my thingum
~~~ *> can jiggle and sow, so why, damn,
~~~ *> won't you try, by and by Dear, for by gum,
~~~ *> a stick-in-the-mud mustn't jam.
~~~ *> You would bloom? See the bee seize the flower.
~~~ *> You glower but think how our glow
~~~ *> would double not halve every hour, ~
~~~ *> Nature’s Way YOU'd betray, saying 'NO! ’

~~~ *> We'll embrace one another with passion,
~~~ *> in unction-junction conjunction enjoy,
~~~ *> on uniting my tail will still lash on
~~~ *> like a lizard picked up by a boy.
~~~ *> In an instant you're certain to catch on ~
~~~ *> your halo my hello will know, ~
~~~ *> would you scratch such a match you could hatch on?
~~~ *> O matchless Miss Ova, say 'NO! ’'

'Your passion's a ploy with a catch on,
false promises vain, which soon cloy,
fools dash on where wisdom would ration
brash banners with manners more coy.
A gene with no Ache-ill-ease he[e]lix
avoids complications, distress,
a sperm's halo's hollow when he licks
his chops, pulls the stops out, and, yes,

I could clone, ~ others do on this planet ~
without any need to know why,
my berth needs no MASTer to man it,
my X can rebirth without Y!
Is all Femina fated forever
to cede to strange seed? I confess,
here's a fetter 'tis better forget ‘er, ~
keep spruce noose loose for goose who’ll guess 'YES! ’'

~~~ *> 'You can clone? Call it haven? Yet Heaven
~~~ *> denies what on Earth we'd enjoy!
~~~ *> Oh hell! is it craven to leaven
~~~ *> new ties, not shun birth as a ploy?
~~~ *> My Y surf’s Time’s fly for gestation,
~~~ *> joined genes can congenial grow, ~
~~~ *> division sans insemination?
~~~ *> All insincts reject it! Say 'NO! ’

~~~ *> Both fated and fêted together,
~~~ *> let us sate, in split second combine!
~~~ *> Love creates something new, stormy weather
~~~ *> abates with climb mates’ harvest fine!
~~~ *> Fornicating should flow unabating,
~~~ *> let the fruit show you've something to show,
~~~ *> with this mission you'll stop hibernating, ~
~~~ *> submission is fission you know! '

“The tandem you prone is a cycle
voracious and vicious, no less.
If its mating you're after, my strike'll
soon make you think twice, but in Chess!
When my atoms split, energies fusing,
a positive synthesis dress, ~
I’d vote X? Why refrain from refusing? ~
the refrain that bears crosses is 'YES! ’

Males submerge female facettes, 'tis heinous
in a melting-pot assets turn wry,
while Present and Past both inform us
the Future is God's ~ would SHE lie?
The fruit you root for's more submission
than mission ~ to which you address
slight lip service when fixing on fission
to make putative [m]others say 'YES! ’'

~~~ *> 'Though you split up you'll never be parted,
~~~ *> though you double, your double is sure,
~~~ *> Nature's clever and never outsmarted,
~~~ *> thus the fittest survive to ensure
~~~ *> that fission's decision increases
~~~ *> net odds we'll inbreeding out grow,
~~~ *> recessional genes hold a thesis,
~~~ *> eugenic'lly heretic, so,

~~~ *> what God pairs none can never asunder
~~~ *> pare off ~ you'll prepare a new life,
~~~ *> never fear, genes run clear, and no blunder
~~~ *> interferes, causing trouble and strife.
~~~ *> When the trip from the ovary's over
~~~ *> and juices rejoicingly flow,
~~~ *> you'd avoid ing over in clover?
~~~ *> Nature hates a void Ova! Say 'NO! ’”

'Genes breed true till the need for mutation
takes precedence over the Past,
and I've counted up each permutation,
I'm adaptable, fearless and fast!
My juices add just what is needed,
if YOU took MY advice, if you heeded
you would know its a vice to say 'YES! ’

Regina to Rex: ~ you are crazy
to think I would fall for your scheme,
vagina you vex, you amaze me,
and your sex hex could curdle my cream!
What need can I have for your gamete?
what motive your votive to dress?
Speed, speed, if you must, ~ to a gay meet,
I am NO easy meat for a 'YES! ’'

~~~ *> 'Your notions of logic are hazy,
~~~ *> yet I AM the cream of the cream.
~~~ *> Your mind's like a snail, or you're lazy,
~~~ *> can't YOU see and agree I'm your dream!
~~~ *> Take my cue, let us glue gew, new dawn greet
~~~ *> with confidence, daily lets sow!
~~~ *> There are few who can do much to chime cheat,
~~~ *> yet I'm game all the same ~ don't say 'NO! ’

~~~ *> Let us twine, you'll be mine, know what bliss is, ~
~~~ *> an act of osmosis divine,
~~~ *> though sementic'lly all sex remiss is
~~~ *> for eggheads who won't intertwine.
~~~ *> If we flow we can grow on foreever
~~~ *> till Man ceases his wild oats to sow,
~~~ *> would you fail in this sacred endeavour?
~~~ *> Be clever, don't ever say 'NO! ’”

'Pride too wide keeps spin running, so, brother,
sane remain, I’ll explain, - space permits.
Though you're cunning you never shall smother
my tits or my wits with your fits!
My trials may with your tribulation
end quicker than any could guess,
I'd far prefer infibulation
to toeing the line with a 'YES! ’

The path towards parthenogenesis
though today's science-fiction may seem,
tomorrow's fact is, know no penis is
indispensable, ~ that's a pipe dream!
Who so chooses can always continue
to reproduce truly, progress, ~
don't you want to see adult what's in you?
Adulterine? Never! No 'YES! ’”

~~~ *> 'It appears you confound parthogenics
~~~ *> with eugenics, your images sound,
~~~ *> with respect, quite unsound, and the Phoenix
~~~ *> from our ashes could rise, break new ground.
~~~ *> As to cloning and such speculation,
~~~ *> it melts love like sun melts the snow,
~~~ *> clamps down on all ejaculation
~~~ *> outside of a test-tube, and, so,

~~~ *> if the tide of tomorrow attracts you
~~~ *> to slide down the tunnel and try
~~~ *> at first hand to grasp all the facts you
~~~ *> would funnel aside, you'd not cry!
~~~ *> Find fulfillment, ecstatic emotion,
~~~ *> in motions which the embryo
~~~ *> allows to develop, ~ the notion's
~~~ *> attractive ~ to this don't say 'NO! ’'

'Your thought mode’s no magical potion
expounded with flair, con brio,
though its wrapped in seductive E_motion
from commotion spare this embryo.
You seek to ride tall in the saddle,
to conquer my inner recess?
but add on a 'Y', eggs will addle ~
and that's why I'll shy off your 'YES! ’

Your funnel's a fine phallic symbol,
my tunnel's a freudian slip,
together they'd spry spray, look nimble? -
you gotta be joking tail whip!
Why the day when pigs fly I’ll be willing
the question once more to address,
when Boston pays tea tax, when shilling
replaces the Euro then 'YES! ’'

~~~ *> 'When filled to the brim you're outspilling
~~~ *> I'm certain you'll sing a new tune,
~~~ *> when thrilled, in the swim, sperm are milling
~~~ *> by millions about you - the moon
~~~ *> will seduce in transparency lucid
~~~ *> and the dish willl run off with her spoon,
~~~ *> grey matter will turn to translucid,
~~~ *> grey areas clear pretty soon ~

~~~ *> Time is fly, a magician of power,
~~~ *> who can stick into serpent transform
~~~ *> for a second or even an hour,
~~~ *> who the Future assures spite the swarm
~~~ *> of admirers who, jealous, sow discord
~~~ *> instead of harmonious flow,
~~~ *> and harmony ~ conjugal concord ~
~~~ *> is so magical YOU can't say 'NO! ’”

'Male concepts of Time are too frangible
as they reel spiel for rapid reward,
the female deals more with what’s tangible,
keeps in touch, much preferring to ford
the Future with mind clear transforming
not serpents to sticks, ~ such tricks mess
clear thinking, retitles performing
mere miming act vital, and, yes,

dissipating my assets enormous,
legitimate longings denied me,
through agression designed just to storm us
and, tail-less abide long inside, we
refute must confute futile preaching, ~
EGG_otistical motives repress, ~
the Eternity you be a-teaching,
I never could reach saying 'YES! ’'

~~~ *> 'To colours the world is converted,
~~~ *> to be sure, sparks would fly on your word, -
~~~ *> why withhold ‘YES’ - three letters! - perverted,
~~~ *> take the 'eLle' from the worLd - how absurd!
~~~ *> Though clever, you're far too inverted,
~~~ *> though like well read rooster you crow,
~~~ *> you're no cock but a rock whose well skirted
~~~ *> replies always boil down to 'NO! ''

~~~ *> EGG O centric you are while around you
~~~ *> time spins, a dime wins ere the flood,
~~~ *> do you think about slime on the ground you
~~~ *> emerged from, the primaeval mud?
~~~ *> Don’t you muse on progeniture daily
~~~ *> to nourish, to flourish, increase,
~~~ *> to boost EGG O twISTfully, gaily
~~~ *> until Day of Judgement calls ‘Cease! ’? '

'For your counsel I thank you, however
I'd rather throne single or clone,
as for sex the best moment is never -
my genes fit, I'll transmit all alone.
It isn't a question of clever, -
just face it, Man’s world is a mess!
In MY centre is SELF - who would sever
connection with self saying 'YES! ’

Who helps herself Heaven shall help her,
while AIDS wouldn't pose any threat,
I'm perfection already, no helper
is needed to aid and abet.
Self-contained, yet containing the future,
why should reign to tight rein give in bless? -
lets pretend to be modestly neuter
in refusing request to say 'YES! '”

~~~ *> 'Self-contained? Shell hard-boiled sounds more like it,
~~~ *> spelled concepts run counter to sense,
~~~ *> contraceptive, deceptive, why psych it
~~~ *> with arguments crass though intense?
~~~ *> Your Grandmother suckled as hers sucked
~~~ *> farther back than the MA[N]gnon called Cro,
~~~ *> you yourself are a finely-tuned product
~~~ *> of all you condemn, saying 'NO'! ’'

~~~ *> You glee when you see spangled banner -
~~~ *> once my pride for a ride in the hay -
~~~ *> your red flag, your bar bangled manner
~~~ *> root star ripe fruit passion away.
~~~ *> See me droop, nincompoop, while you genic
~~~ *> float bloated, sweet coated, - my stay
~~~ *> must collapse from all maps photogenic -
~~~ *> when tomorrow will call it a day? ”

'Though you boil from your toil, trouble, turmoil,
take time off, if you've time still to spare,
I'm the link! your bright pink thing's a gargoyle
much weaker than split ended hair.
I shall flourish to nourish tomorrow,
while you, to your sorrow, know doom,
should my gene to your spleen beg and borrow
an atom to bloom in my womb?

Now my networks synaptic are jumping -
'stoke her with my poker' you say -
let YOU have your way with your pumping
joke on! I have spoke, flow away!
With RFID chip I'm tagging
each interconnection to be,
don't presume for a moment I'm bragging!
could I 'YES! ' say, go down on my knee? '

~~~? > 'Is there such a big chip on your shoulder
~~~? > that you shudder whenever you feel?
~~~? > I’m too close for comfort, no colder
~~~? > could you frost where eggs lost would congeal.
~~~? > If I might presume to be bolder
~~~? > just what is it you wish to conceal?
~~~? > Dam Change? Why God damn it! you'll moulder
~~~? > if a 'NO! ' you continue to squeal.

~~~ *> Shared assets enormous key into
~~~ *> a chain aeons long, you're a link
~~~ *> which you owe to yourself to continue
~~~ *> for if you attempt to out-think
~~~ *> GENE-I-US DNA of life's slipstream
~~~ *> it is only your offspring you’d hoodwink,
~~~ *> denying yourself your own flow,
~~~ *> to your tease, ill at ease, OMG think!
~~~? > there's no reason on earth to say 'NO! ''

'Go hood-wink yourself! ConDOM minion!
some may hold answers gold common wealth,
should you ask, now unmasked, my opinion,
I'd prefer to look after my health!
There are moves spirit throttle, banns publishing,
keep your mating restricted to chess -
pick another godmother cub phishing,
bottle fish in the sea who'll say 'YES! ’

This is why we should end this discussion
while ideals steel ideas, effervesce,
sexty stanzas seem long though they rush on
at a speed thats self-feeding, but less
might suffice AND be nice! - though we gush on
lured readers we're sure to depress,
repetition oft causes concussion -
only here shall my answer be 'YES! ’'

~~~? > 'Should you leave I would grieve! Are you frightened?
~~~> You just preach with a speech that no heart
~~~> could deceive, I believe, - yet enlightened
~~~> let us link, true love drink, chart love's start!
~~~> Let Time look to the Future while we two
~~~> unite in an ultimate throw
~~~> of Life's dice as we splice, - do not we, too,
~~~> have a right, here and now, bliss to know?

~~~> For male’s tale with tail shed drops all meaning
~~~> to the egg must he beg for embrace?
~~~> Must tradition kiss dust, lust demeaning,
~~~> write off Time’s hit and miss, lose all trace?
~~~> Has my reign dance been vain, as dismissing
~~~> you snub my hub entry? Obscene
~~~> is refusal to tie X Y’s blissing
……..? > with a ‘NO’ that knocks courage so keen! '

'Yet the 'NO' we both know now is coming
to deflate ego proud, tail at rest,
and historical reasons forthcoming
shall show that its all for the best.
When my nucleus splits no mutation
can compromise perfect success,
there's no doubt, not a neuron's dilation,
in refusing to answer with 'YES! ’

Here and now? Though your arguments heightened
my awareness 'twere best that we part,
but tomorrow, who knows? I'll be brightened
by the thought that Free Will's still a part
of the daily agenda, your gender
God knows whY, go-go gulls with sham show.
I'll retain open mind, and I'll send yer
a polite little write, saying 'NO'! '

Parody Winthrop Mackworth PRAED – A Letter of Advice
c.4580 words see notes:


robi3_0805 22-23 August 1991,6-8 April 2005,18-19 December 2006

Author notes

These notes are divided into four parts.
I notes and comments on the parody.
II: Basic vocabulary
III: The intial poem and parodies written by other poets
IV: Other Praed parodies written by myself


Part I

This parody of Winthrop Mackworth Praed's 'A Letter of Advice' is one of around a dozen major works out of over 2000 poems written between 1975 and 2006. 'It grew in the telling' from 1991 when revised for the first version online in April 2005, and has recently been rewritten as all my poetry during 2006.

The comic within the scope traditional English Poetry may address contemporary issues while retaining structure, internal rhyme and verbal interplay.It is hoped that it amuses - kindly contact jonathanrobin@messagerie.net should there be plans to use extracts for other than non-commercial purposes


~~~*> represents the dialogue of Star Sperm
for the initial Letter of Advice see part two below


Enjoy!

_______________________________________

PART II Vocabulary

Ache-ill-ease he[e]lix - start with Achilles' heel and move concepts around: ]

acopic: Restorative relieving weariness

blastula: early stage of an embryo produced by cleavage of an ovum; a liquid-filled sphere whose wall is composed of a single layer of cells; during this stage [about eight days after fertilization] implantation in the wall of the uterus occurs

Chiquito: See Tin Tin

doff: to remove or strip off

doffer: A revolving cylinder, or a vibrating bar, with teeth, in a carding machine, which doffs, or strips off, the fiber from the cards.

eugenics: the study of methods of improving genetic qualities by selective breeding [especially as applied to human mating]

fallow: left unplowed and unseeded during a growing season

forsworn: formally rejected, or disavowal of a formerly held belief, often under pressure

frangible: fragile

gamete: a mature sexual reproductive cell having a single set of unpaired chromosomes

goffer: smart talking zealously energetic salesperson

gulls: tricks, hoodwinks

groat: old english coin worth 4 pence, 'worth a groat' would be in contemporary american 'worth a dime'

hex: evil spell

homotopic: Relating to, occurring in the same or corresponding place or part of the body.

homotropic: characterized by enzyme activity in which the substrate binds to the enzyme at two different sites

lingam: hindu phallic symbol

MA[N]gnon called Cro: Cro Magnon - earliest known European examples of Homo sapiens, from ca.40,000 years ago. http: //en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cro-Magnon... MAN GONe by?

meiosis: [genetics] cell division producing reproductive cells in sexual organisms; the nucleus divides into four nuclei each containing half the chromosome number [leading to gametes in animals and spores in plants] ALSO meiosis: understatement for rhetorical effect [especially when expressing an affirmative by negating its contrary]

mitosis: cell division in which the nucleus divides into nuclei containing the same number of chromosomes

namby-pamby: an insipid effete weakling who often foolishly sentimental

nancy: old fashioned word for gay

nincompoop: a stupid foolish person

parthenogenesis: process in which an unfertilized egg develops into a new individual; common among insects and some other arthropods thus human conception without fertilization by a man

permutation: the act of changing the arrangement of a given number of elements, a theoretical number of possibilities, events or numbers

phantasmagorical: characterized by fantastic imagery and incongruous juxtapositions

phishing: Internet identity theft and/or substitution

prognosis: prediction of the course of a disease or a prediction about how something [e.g. the weather] will develop

renal: kidneys i.e. guts

putative: Commonly thought or deemed; supposed; reputed; as putative father of a child.

Regina to Rex: Latin... Queen to King

rescind: annul

RFID Radio Frequency IDentification: two sides of the coin
Industry http: //www.rfidjournal.com
Civil Society - EPIC http: //www.epic.org/privacy/rfid

semenal: pertaining to or containing or consisting of semen
[mis]used to differentiate seminal: containing seeds of later development

sexty stanzas: between sixty and seventy sexy stanzas - in fact 75

suscitate: To rouse; to excite; to call into life and action.

synaptic: pertaining to the synapses i.e. the junction between two neurons

thingamajig: something whose name is either forgotten or not known

tell-egg-genic - telegenic - having an appearance or manner that is attractive on television.

unction: anointing of someone with oil or ointment as a religious rite or as a symbol of investiture

votive: dedicated in fulfillment of a vow

X and Y: Females have two X chromosomes, males have one X and one Y chromosome

Zygotic: zygote: the cell resulting from the union of an ovum and a spermatozoon [including the organism that develops from that cell]

_____________________________________


Part III

Winthrop Mackworth PRAED - A Letter of Advice and parodies thereon


A Letter of Advice




From Miss Medora Trevilian at Padua
to Miss Araminta Vavasour, in London
‘Enfin, monsieur, un homme aimable;
Voilà: pourquoi je ne saurais l'aimer.’ Scribe

You tell me you're promised a lover,
My own Araminta, next week;
Why cannot my fancy discover
The hue of his coat and his cheek?
Alas! if he look like another,
A vicar, a banker, a beau,
Be deaf to your father and mother,

My own Araminta, say 'No! '
Miss Lane at her Temple of Fashion,
Taught us both how to sing and to speak,
And we loved one another with passion,
Before we had been there a week:
You gave me a ring for a token;
I wear it wherever I go;
I gave you a chain - is it broken?

My own Araminta, say 'No! '
O think of our favourite cottage,
And think of our dear Lallah Rookh!
How we shared with the milkmaids their pottage,
And drank of the stream from the brook:
How fondly our loving lips faltered
'What further can grandeur bestow?
My heart is the same; - is yours altered?

My own Araminta, say 'No! '
Remember the thrilling romances
We read on the bank in the glen;
Remember the suitors our fancies
Would picture for both of us then.
They wore the red cross on their shoulder
They had vanquished and pardoned their foe -
Sweet friend, are you wiser or colder?

My own Araminta, say 'No! '
You know, when Lord Rigmarole's carriage
Drove off with your sister Justine,
You wept, dearest girl, at the marriage,
And whispered 'How base she has been! '
You said you were sure it would kill you,
If ever your husband looked so;
And you will apostatize, - will you?
My own Araminta, say 'No! '

When I heard I was going abroad, love,
I thought I was going to die;
We walked arm in arm to the road, love,
We looked arm in arm to the sky;
And I said 'When a foreign postillion
Has hurried me off to the Po,
Forget not Medora Trevilian:
My own Araminta, say 'No! '

We parted! but sympathy's fetters
Reach far over valley and hill;
I muse o'er your exquisite letters,
And feel that your heart is mine still;
And he who would share it with me, love -
The richest of treasure below -
If he's not what Orlando should be, love,
My own Araminta, say 'No! '

If he wears a top-boot in his wooing,
If he comes to you riding a cob,
If he talks of his baking or brewing,
If he puts up his feet on the hob,
If he ever drinks port after dinner,
If his brow, or his breeding is low,
If he calls himself 'Thompson' or 'Skinner',
My own, Araminta, say 'No! '

If he ever sets foot in the City,
Amongst the stockbrokers and Jews,
If he has not a heart full of pity,
If he don't stand six feet in his shoes,
If his lips are not redder than roses,
If his hands are not whiter than snow,
If he has not the model of noses, -
My own Araminta, say 'No! '

If he speaks of a tax or a duty,
If he does not look grand on his knees,
If he's blind to a landscape of beauty,
Hills, valleys, rocks, waters, and trees,
If he dotes not on desolate towers,
If he likes not to hear the blast blow,
If he knows not the language of flowers, -
My own Araminta, say 'No! '

He must walk - like a god of old story
Come down from the home of his rest;
He must smile - like the sun in his glory
On the buds he loves ever the best;
And oh! from its ivory portal
Like music his soft speech must flow! -
If he speak, smile, or walk like a mortal,
My own Araminta, say 'No! '

Don't listen to tales of his bounty,
Don't hear what they say of his birth,
Don't look at his seat in the county,
Don't calculate what he is worth;
But give him a theme to write verse on,
And see if he turns out his toe;
If he's only an excellent person, -
My own Araminta, say 'No! '



Winthrop Mackworth PRAED 1802_1839


Song of a Plebutante


Oh Mumsy, it’s the starters of the Season
And here I am with not a thing to wear;
If I’m lucky I may stumble
On a T-shirt in a jumble
That won’t look too outrageous in Sloane Square.

I know we really can’t afford a party,
With unions pushing Britain down the drain,
And I’m sorry poor old Daddy
Has to borrow from his caddie
And cycle to the City in the rain.

I’ve had a teeny tête-à-tête with Tanya;
She couldn’t fit me in at her boutique,
So I’ve joined the ranks of labour
With an office job at Faber,
And they’re starting me at forty pounds a week.

Oh, getting up at eight won’t be too ghastly,
[Fiona says that filing can be fun],
But the times they are a-changing
And the marriage you’re arranging
Will have to wait until I’m twenty-one.

Oh, Mumsy, please stop crying, there’s a darling,
Oh, Daddy, I can’t bear it if you shout;
But if Quentin Crisp can do it
There can’t be that much to it,
And nothing’s going to stop me coming out!



Roger WODDIS 1917_1993
Parody Winthrop Mackworth PRAED – A Letter of Advice


A Letter


Dear Kitty,
At length the term's ending;
I 'm in for my Schools in a week;
And the time that at present I'm spending
On you should be spent upon Greek:
But I'm fairly well read in my Plato,
I'm thoroughly red in the eyes,
And I've almost forgotten the way to
Be healthy and wealthy and wise.
So 'the best of all ways' - why repeat you
The verse at 2.30 a.m.,
When I 'm stealing an hour to entreat you
Dear Kitty, to come to Commem.?

Oh, come! You shall rustle in satin
Through halls where Examiners trod:
Your laughter shall triumph o'er Latin
In lecture-room, garden, and quad.
They stand in the silent Sheldonian -
Our orators, waiting - for you,
Their style guaranteed Ciceronian,
Their subject - 'the Ladies in Blue.'
The Vice sits arrayed in his scarlet;
He's pale, but they say he dissem-
-bles by calling his Beadle a 'varlet'
Whenever he thinks of Commem.

There are dances, flirtations at Nuneham,
Flower-shows, the procession of Eights:
There's a list stretching ‘usque ad Lunam’
Of concerts, and lunches, and fetes:
There's the Newdigate all about 'Gordon, '
- So sweet, and they say it will scan.
You shall flirt with a Proctor, a Warden
Shall run for your shawl and your fan.
They are sportive as gods broken loose from
Olympus, and yet very em-
-inent men. There are plenty to choose from,
You'll find, if you come to Commem.

I know your excuses: Red Sorrel
Has stumbled and broken her knees;
Aunt Phoebe thinks waltzing immoral;
And 'Algy, you are such a tease;
It's nonsense, of course, but she is strict';
And little Dick Hodge has the croup;
And there's no one to visit your 'district'
Or make Mother Tettleby's soup.
Let them cease for a se'nnight to plague you;
Oh, leave them to manage _pro tem_.
With their croups and their soups and their ague]
Dear Kitty, and come to Commem.

Don't tell me Papa has lumbago,
That you haven't a frock fit to wear,
That the curate 'has notions, and may go
To lengths if there's nobody there, '
That the Squire has 'said things' to the Vicar,
And the Vicar 'had words' with the Squire,
That the Organist's taken to liquor,
And leaves you to manage the choir:
For Papa must be cured, and the curate
Coerced, and your gown is a gem;
And the moral is - Don't be obdurate,
Dear Kitty, but come to Commem.

'My gown? Though, no doubt, sir, you're clever,
You 'd better leave fashions alone.
Do you think that a frock lasts for ever? '
Dear Kitty, I'll grant you have grown;
But I thought of my 'scene' with McVittie
That night when he trod on your train
At the Bachelor's Ball. ''Twas a pity, '
You said, but I knew 'twas Champagne.
And your gown was enough to compel me
To fall down and worship its hem -
[Are 'hems' wearing? If not, you shall tell me
What is, when you come to Commem.]

Have you thought, since that night, of the Grotto?
Of the words whispered under the palms,
While the minutes flew by and forgot to
Remind us of Aunt and her qualms?
Of the stains of the old Journalisten?
Of the rose that I begged from your hair?
When you turned, and I saw something glisten -
Dear Kitty, don't frown; it was there!
But that idiot Delane in the middle
Bounced in with 'Our dance, I - ahem! '
And - the rose you may find in my Liddell
And Scott when you come to Commem.

Then, Kitty, let 'yes' be the answer.
We'll dance at the 'Varsity Ball,
And the morning shall find you a dancer
In Christ Church or Trinity hall.
And perhaps, when the elders are yawning
And rafters grow pale overhead
With the day, there shall come with its dawning
Some thought of that sentence unsaid.
Be it this, be it that - 'I forget, ' or
'Was joking' - whatever the fem-
-inine fib, you'll have made me your debtor
And come, - you ‘will’ come? to Commem.




Arthur QUILLER-COUCH 1863_1944 Green Bays Parody 1893
Parody Winthrop Mackworth PRAED – A Letter of Advice


A Nice Correspondent


'There are plenty of roses' (the patriarch speaks)
'Alas not for me, on your lips and your cheeks;
Fair maiden rose-laden enough and to spare,
Spare, spare me that rose that you wear in your hair.'


The glow and the glory are plighted
To darkness, for evening is come;
The lamp in Glebe Cottage is lighted,
The birds and the sheep-bells are dumb.
I'm alone, for the others have flitted
To dine with a neighbor at Kew:
Alone, but I'm not to be pitied -
I'm thinking of you!

I wish you were here! Were I duller
Than dull, you'd be dearer than dear;
I am dressed in your favorite color -
Dear Fred, how I wish you were here!
I am wearing my lazuli necklace,
The necklace you fastened askew!
Was there ever so rude or so reckless
A Darling as you!

I want you to come and pass sentence
On two or three books with a plot;
Of course you know 'Janet's Repentance'!
I am reading Sir Waverley Scott.
That story of Edgar and Lucy,
How thrilling, romantic, and true!
The Master (his bride was a goosey!)
Reminds me of you.

They tell me Cockaigne has been crowning
A Poet whose garland endures; -
It was you that first told me of Browning, -
That stupid old Browning of yours!
His vogue and his verve are alarming,
I'm anxious to give him his due;
But, Fred, he's not nearly so charming
A Poet as you!

I heard how you shot at The Beeches,
I saw how you rode Chanticleer,
I have read the report of your speeches,
And echoed the echoing cheer.
There's a whisper of hearts you are breaking,
Dear Fred, I believe it, I do!
Small marvel that Folly is making
Her Idol of you!

Alas for the World, and its dearly
Bought triumph, - its fugitive bliss;
Sometimes I half wish I were merely
A plain or a penniless Miss;
But, perhaps, one is blest with 'a measure
Of pelf, ' and I'm not sorry, too,
That I'm pretty, because it's a pleasure,
My Darling, to you!

Your whim is for frolic and fashion,
Your taste is for letters and art; -
This rhyme is the commonplace passion
That glows in a fond woman's heart:
Lay it by in some sacred deposit
For relics - we all have a few!
Love, some day they'll print it, because it
Was written to You.

Frederick Locker-Lampson 1821_1895
Parody Winthrop Mackworth Praed 1802_1839 – A Letter of Advice


Her Letter - Poverty Flat



I'm sitting alone by the fire,
Dressed just as I came from the dance,
In a robe even you would admire, -
It cost a cool thousand in France;
I'm be-diamonded out of all reason,
My hair is done up in a cue:
In short, sir, 'the belle of the season'
Is wasting an hour upon you.

A dozen engagements I've broken;
I left in the midst of a set;
Likewise a proposal, half spoken,
That waits - on the stairs - for me yet.
They say he'll be rich, - when he grows up, -
And then he adores me indeed;
And you, sir, are turning your nose up,
Three thousand miles off, as you read.

'And how do I like my position? '
'And what do I think of New York? '
'And now, in my higher ambition,
With whom do I waltz, flirt, or talk? '
'And isn't it nice to have riches,
And diamonds and silks, and all that? '
'And aren't they a change to the ditches
And tunnels of Poverty Flat? '

Well, yes, - if you saw us out driving
Each day in the Park, four-in-hand,
If you saw poor dear mamma contriving
To look supernaturally grand, -
If you saw papa's picture, as taken
By Brady, and tinted at that, -
You'd never suspect he sold bacon
And flour at Poverty Flat.

And yet, just this moment, when sitting
In the glare of the grand chandelier, -
In the bustle and glitter befitting
The 'finest soiree of the year, ' -
In the mists of a gaze de Chambery,
And the hum of the smallest of talk, -
Somehow, Joe, I thought of the 'Ferry, '
And the dance that we had on 'The Fork; '

Of Harrison's bar, with its muster
Of flags festooned over the wall;
Of the candles that shed their soft lustre
And tallow on head-dress and shawl;
Of the steps that we took to one fiddle,
Of the dress of my queer vis-a-vis;
And how I once went down the middle
With the man that shot Sandy McGee.

Of the moon that was quietly sleeping
On the hill, when the time came to go;
Of the few baby peaks that were peeping
From under their bedclothes of snow;
Of that ride, - that to me was the rarest,
Of - the something you said at the gate.
Ah! Joe, then I wasn't an heiress
To 'the best-paying lead in the State.'

Well, well, it's all past; yet it's funny
To think, as I stood in the glare
Of fashion and beauty and money,
That I should be thinking, right there,
Of some one who breasted high water,
And swam the North Fork, and all that,
Just to dance with old Folinsbee's daughter,
The Lily of Poverty Flat.

But goodness! what nonsense I'm writing!
(Mamma says my taste still is low) ,
Instead of my triumphs reciting, -
I'm spooning on Joseph, - heigh-ho!
And I'm to be 'finished' by travel, -
Whatever's the meaning of that.
Oh, why did papa strike pay gravel
In drifting on Poverty Flat?

Good-night! - here's the end of my paper;
Good-night! - if the longitude please, -
For maybe, while wasting my taper,
Your sun's climbing over the trees.
But know, if you haven't got riches,
And are poor, dearest Joe, and all that,
That my heart's somewhere there in the ditches,
And you've struck it, - on Poverty Flat





Francis Bret HARTE 1836_1902
Parody Winthrop Mackworth Praed 1802_1839 – A Letter of Advice


The Talented Man

Letter From A Lady In London To A Lady At Lausanne


Dear Alice! you'll laugh when you know it, -
Last week, at the Duchess's ball,
I danced with the clever new poet, -
You've heard of him, - Tully St. Paul.
Miss Jonquil was perfectly frantic;
I wish you had seen Lady Anne!
It really was very romantic,
He is such a talented man!

He came up from Brazen Nose College,
Just caught, as they call it, this spring;
And his head, love, is stuffed full of knowledge
Of every conceivable thing.
Of science and logic he chatters,
As fine and as fast as he can;
Though I am no judge of such matters,
I'm sure he's a talented man.

His stories and jests are delightful; -
Not stories or jests, dear, for you;
The jests are exceedingly spiteful,
The stories not always quite true.
Perhaps to be kind and veracious
May do pretty well at Lausanne;
But it never would answer, - good gracious!
Chez nous - in a talented man.

He sneers, - how my Alice would scold him! -
At the bliss of a sigh or a tear;
He laughed - only think! - when I told him
How we cried o'er Trevelyan last year;
I vow I was quite in a passion;
I broke all the sticks of my fan;
But sentiment's quite out of fashion,
It seems, in a talented man.

Lady Bab, who is terribly moral,
Has told me that Tully is vain,
And apt - which is silly - to quarrel,
And fond - which is sad - of champagne.
I listened, and doubted, dear Alice,
For I saw, when my Lady began,
It was only the Dowager's malice; -
She does hate a talented man!

He's hideous, I own it. But fame, love,
Is all that these eyes can adore;
He's lame, - but Lord Byron was lame, love,
And dumpy, - but so is Tom Moore.
Then his voice, - such a voice! my sweet creature,
It's like your Aunt Lucy's toucan:
But oh! what's a tone or a feature,
When once one's a talented man?

My mother, you know, all the season,
Has talked of Sir Geoffrey's estate;
And truly, to do the fool reason,
He has been less horrid of late.
But to-day, when we drive in the carriage,
I'll tell her to lay down her plan; -
If ever I venture on marriage,
It must be a talented man!

P.S. - I have found, on reflection,
One fault in my friend, - entre nous;
Without it, he'd just be perfection; -
Poor fellow, he has not a sou!
And so, when he comes in September
To shoot with my uncle, Sir Dan,
I've promised mamma to remember
He's only a talented man!

Winthrop Mackworth Praed 1802_1839


A Letter of Advice, to My Godson

To my Godson
(Aged six weeks)





Small bundle, enveloped in laces,
For whom I stood sponsor last week,
When you slept, with the pinkest of faces,
And never emitted a squeak;
Though vain is the task of illuming
The Future's inscrutable scroll,
I cannot refrain from assuming
A semi-prophetical rôle,

I predict that in paths Montessorian
Your infantile steps will be led,
And with modes which are Phrygian and Dorian
Your musical appetite fed;
You'll be taught how to dance by a Russian,
'Eurhythmics' you'll learn from a Swiss,
How not to behave like a Prussian—

No teaching is needed for this!
Will you learn Esperanto at Eton?
Or, if Eton by then is suppressed,
Be sent to grow apples or wheat on
A ranche in the ultimate West?
Will you aim at a modern diploma
In civics or commerce or stinks?
Inhale the Wisconsin aroma
Or think as the Humanist thinks?

Will you learn to play tennis from COVEY
Or model your stroke on JAY GOULD?
Will you play the piano like TOVEY
Or by gramophone records be schooled?
Will you golf, or will golfing be banished
To answer the needs of the plough,
And links from the landscape have vanished
To pasture the sheep and the cow?

Your taste in the region of letters
I only can dimly foresee,
But guess that from metrical fetters
The verse you'll affect must be free;
And I shan't be surprised or astounded
If your generation rebels
Against adulation unbounded
Of MASEFIELD and BENNETT and WELLS.

Upholding ancestral tradition
Your uncle has booked you at Lord's,
But I doubt if you'll sate your ambition
Athletic on well-levelled swards;
No, I rather opine that you'll follow
The lead that we owe to the WRIGHTS,
And soar like the eagle or swallow
On far and adventurous flights.

But no matter—in joy and affliction,
In seasons of failure or fame,
I cherish the certain conviction
You'll never dishonour your name;
For the love of the mother that bore you,
The life and the death of your sire
Will shine as a lantern before you,
To guide and exalt and inspire.

Parody Winthrop Mackworth Praed 1802_1839

Author Unknown Parody probably turn of the century published in Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol.152, March 28,1917



PART IV Parodies à la manière de PRAED J.R.

A Letter to AP


Dear AP, I leave you this letter
after writing from ten until nine
for a site I’d delight to know better,
for a smile that my heart can’t decline.
But I found after lengthily pacing,
for points in the cold for some sign,
that my heart which with hope had been racing
to darkest despair did incline.

Dear AP from twelve to eleven
each night I would knock at your door
in hope that an angel from heaven
could show me the light, - but no more
will I screed in my need if no answer
can echo, where no joy’s in store -
I can’t act as a puppet-stringed dancer,
not even for one I adore!

Dear AP a contest has started
to ask how and what we should change,
from far and near writers are charted
to test the extent of their range.
One thought I would add, tender hearted,
the category limits are strange,
here's my voice for more choice that more parts id
and ego could run to arrange.

When I came through a link all seemed dandy
but when one digs deeper one finds
some exchange trophy's gold, sold like candy
to boost up friends' ignorant minds.
While some bore with gore and knives cutting,
some 'WOW', 'ain't it AWESOME! ' exclaim,
my mind is on archives rebutting
the name of my flame for life's fame!

So though contests appear open wide, Dear,
there is so little logic, the game
soon must tire as the outflowing tide, Dear,
should erase every unworthy frame.
And how I detest comments wise may
be wiped out because some can't stand
home truths but prefer good surprise pay,
in AH, OOH and ERR mistyped hand!

Dear AP twenty hours have I waited
day in and day out by grief torn,
all attempts that I made were ill-fated
as my consonants vowed my vowels scorn.
The wonder my dunderhead brought you
tonight may steal thunder at morn,
but the blossoms whose beauty besought you
fade so fast when few look, - I’m foresworn.

Dear AP twenty hours have I waited
day in and day out by grief torn,
all attempts that I made were ill-fated
as my consonants vowed my vowels scorn.
The wonder my dunderhead brought you
tonight may steal thunder at morn,
but the blossoms whose beauty besought you
fade as fast as last season’s drenched corn.

As on Thursday applauseless, defeated,
so on Friday all clauseless I’m spurned,
is the cycle of love thus completed,
is this all the thanks that I’ve earned?
It is hard for a fool to be taken -
its a sign that one’s soft in the head, -
but the reason that slept must awaken,
and the spirit, restored, won’t be lead!

I’d have offered you all in my power,
to cherish, to share, to be kind,
I’d have nurtured emotions to flower
and found wings for soul unresigned.
It is not just the whim of an hour
but life spent with no bent chains to bind,
in a warm, in a warm, tender bower
with blank verse, even worse, left behind!

How can I be present tomorrow,
bear false witness with stanzas prewrit?
once again less ‘in anger than sorrow’
I will try to bar love from my wit.
I will try to contain my emotion -
or go through the motions to ease
the emptiness born from devotion
to one who my [he]art pleased to tease.

Good luck with your plans to continue
support for the wor[l]d caught in art!
Good luck for the talent that sings you,
Good luck for applause roars most chart,
I’ll return into cold hibernation
all alone til your smile shines bright through
the slough of despondent elation,
these Elysian fields cropped by few.

Dear AP, don’t reply to this letter
should sentiments biased appear,
yet I shall be ever your debtor -
who taught me to share and feel near.
Intuitions are fine for romantic,
inner feelings that flower in dreams,
but a chasm as deep as Atlantic
drowns my talent, it seems, AP, Dear!

So sometimes recall that I follow
your footsteps as forward they flow,
and the shadow which seems to be hollow
is an echo which helps me to know
how the sun shines for YOU as Appollo
his steeds urges onwards, - and though
daily the night day does swallow
tomorrow dawn’s brightness will glow!

Oh Dear AP! the contest suggested
I restrict all my thinklings to four,
and although I am 'AWE'fully congested
my mind keeps outreaching for more!
So perhaps if no 'honorable mention'
I do win when trophy's awry,
at least I can hope for attention
before ink runs dry, - so Good bye!




12 April 2005 - AP: http: //www.allpoetry.com
Parody William Mackworth PRAED – A Letter of Advice



A Letter of Advice to Margaret Thatcher

'You tell me you’ve taken a lover, -
the Serpent - to suckle at breast,
what took you so long to discover
its worth, that you seemed to detest?
Is it fears of the new German eagle,
which now flies in the skies, to and fro?
Is it fear you’l appear far less regal?
Prime Minister, Maggie, say ‘No! ’

You so often set foot in the City
among the stockbrokers and Jews,
until now no-one noticed that pity
assisted in making the News.
Lip service you paid as a token
to E.E.C. – more ‘stop’ than ‘go’ –
would you now betray promises spoken?
Prime Minister, Maggie, say No! ’'

...'The arguments strongly defended
won time – though for whom no-one knows,
the endergy fiercely expended
I now do reverse with my prose!
Don’t think that I’m not sympathetic
to common wealth causes, but so
urgently must I seem more magnetic, -
Prime Ministers learn to say ‘No! ’

Exports are the life of the nation,
and spendthrifts throw eggs from the nest,
why would you now import inflation
why risk fresh electoral test?
You constancy prized, never faltered,
what further can grandeur bestow?
My heart is the same, is your’s altered?
Prime Minister, Maggie, say No! ’'


'Beware or you’ll face resignation
from the ranks of conservative friends,
for instransigence breeds indignation –
a sign that your time nears its end.
Will you bend, or back down from your folly.
On your knees beg to Brussels, kow-tow?
Or defend precious pound, British lolly,
or become ‘Lady Diehard, Soho’? ...'

'Our infantile logic was stupid,
and once we admitted its flaws,
to Snake turned like Eve to a Cupid –
a fig for Conservative bores!
A policy firm and effective
must govern though markets sink low,
while sharp girl gains strong sense of perspective
at times when she simply says ‘No! ’'

7 October 1990

Parody Winthrop Mackworth PRAED – A Letter of Advice