jjorge
 
Reply Mon 14 Feb, 2011 09:54 pm
NOTE:
I spent Christmas 2010 with my brother and his family.
I had been told that my nephew wanted a 'Chicken calendar' for Christmas.
(He apparently had a 2009 'Chicken calendar' from Barnes and Noble)
Alas, I couldn't find one anywhere -and I started looking too late to find one via the internet and have it arrive on time- so I got him something else.
Then, on Christmas Day, while enroute to his house, this poem popped into my mind.
When I arrived I wrote it down -and polished it up a bit- in ten minutes.
-jjorge

'To A Chicken'

O you to whom the dinosaur is kin,
-noble cousin of emu, eagle, and owl-
I hold it as a dreadful sin
that any man would call you 'fowl'!

Alas, it's true that birds, and dinosaurs,
and men like me do die,
but you alone, unlucky avian,
endure the fate of being fried,

Yet, we are awed by your unlikely pluck!
as o'er your noble head a sword hangs high,
and you serenely peck and cluck,
until... ( I wipe a tear from out my eye)
you meet your end, dissected, and with carrots, stuck
into some fiendish granny's hot pot pie!
-jjorge December 2010

Addendum:

I'm fascinated that 'courage is the twelfth of these THIRTEEN meanings of 'pluck'!
http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/pluck
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Ionus
 
  2  
Reply Mon 14 Feb, 2011 10:07 pm
That was excellent. You dont work at KFC do you ?

You are now my official court poet.

(you may now bow and thank my magnificence profusely)
jjorge
 
  1  
Reply Mon 14 Feb, 2011 10:49 pm
@Ionus,
"...You are now my official court poet."

I don't know if I meet the job requirements Your Highness!
Court poets' primary task is to flatter their royal patrons, but,
as Disraeli said:
"Everyone likes flattery... [but]... when you come to Royalty,
you should lay it on with a TROWEL"

Ionus
 
  2  
Reply Mon 14 Feb, 2011 11:34 pm
@jjorge,
Quote:
"Everyone likes flattery... [but]... when you come to Royalty,
you should lay it on with a TROWEL"

We are on the same wave length...what exactly is the problem ??
aidan
 
  1  
Reply Tue 15 Feb, 2011 01:04 am
@jjorge,
'Alas, it's true that birds, and dinosaurs,
and men like me do die,
but you alone, unlucky avian,
endure the fate of being fried,'

Very true! I'd never thought of that before.

Good poem. I bet that brought a smile to your nephews face- and unlike a calendar, he can keep it forever.
He can frame it and hang it up next to next to all the chicken calendars he collects through the years.


URL: http://able2know.org/topic/167903-1
dlowan
 
  2  
Reply Tue 15 Feb, 2011 01:16 am
And, oh alas, the fates malign decree,
In one last cruelest, crushing blow for thee,
Though bird thou art and bird shall ever be,
You're destined to be fried
While never having flied.
jjorge
 
  1  
Reply Tue 15 Feb, 2011 10:46 am
@dlowan,
very nice!

-but what else would one expect from the esteemed dlowan!
0 Replies
 
jjorge
 
  1  
Reply Tue 15 Feb, 2011 10:52 am
@Ionus,
LOL!
Sorry, not cut out for butt-kissing.
I'd more likely use the trowel to flatten 'my liege'!
jjorge
 
  1  
Reply Tue 15 Feb, 2011 10:54 am
@aidan,
Thanks for the kind words, aidan!
0 Replies
 
Ionus
 
  2  
Reply Tue 15 Feb, 2011 06:06 pm
@jjorge,
Quote:
Sorry, not cut out for butt-kissing.
I'd more likely use the trowel to flatten 'my liege'!


Shocked Fine. I will write my own poems.

There once was a chicken from Nantucket,
it was a stormy and dark night,
A is for apples,
and the fat lady sang.

(pause for applause)

Thank You.

Footnote for feet
Quote:
"Vogon poetry is of course, the third worst in the universe.
The second worst is that of the Azgoths of Kria. During a recitation by their poet master, Grunthos the Flatulent, of his poem "Ode to a Small Lump of Green Putty I Found in My Armpit One Midsummer Morning" four of his audience died of internal haemorrhaging and the president of the Mid-Galactic Arts Nobbling Council survived by gnawing one of his own legs off. Grunthos was reported to have been "disappointed" by the poem's reception, and was about to embark on a reading of his 12-book epic entitled "My Favourite Bathtime Gurgles" when his own major intestine, in a desperate attempt to save humanity, leapt straight up through his neck and throttled his brain.
The very worst poetry of all perished along with its creator, Paul Neil Milne Johnstone of Redbridge, in the destruction of the planet Earth. Vogon poetry is mild by comparison."
— Douglas Adams (The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy)

dlowan
 
  1  
Reply Tue 15 Feb, 2011 07:04 pm
@jjorge,
Great poem Jjorge!!! We call them "chooks".
0 Replies
 
jjorge
 
  1  
Reply Tue 15 Feb, 2011 10:12 pm
@Ionus,
LOL!!
0 Replies
 
laughoutlood
 
  1  
Reply Wed 16 Feb, 2011 01:20 am
@jjorge,
LARGELY ODE TO THE CHICKEN

Did you come first or was it the egg?

And does a safecracking require a yegg?
0 Replies
 
Old Goat
 
  1  
Reply Wed 16 Feb, 2011 02:37 am
"Alas, it's true that birds, and dinosaurs,
and men like me do die,
but you alone, unlucky avian,
endure the fate of being fried,"

And gardeners of the world applaud
The value of your faeces
Whilst they drink beer and barbecue
Your marinaded pieces

Your juices boiled and left to cool
Provides us with our stocks
And our wives are waked on every morn
By their rather angry Cocks.













0 Replies
 
McTag
 
  1  
Reply Wed 16 Feb, 2011 03:38 am

Chicken, cowardly little bird
How did you earn that epithet?
Though ending up in hot deep fat
A worser fate it's hard to get.

You are saddled with the yolk
Of feeding mankind's teeming throng
In Friday night kebabs and nuggs
And breakfast omelettes that go wrong
0 Replies
 
Ionus
 
  1  
Reply Wed 16 Feb, 2011 04:52 am
Yes, yes....you gave it a good effort everyone but mine was outstandingly different.
0 Replies
 
jjorge
 
  1  
Reply Wed 16 Feb, 2011 06:06 am
((((applause)))) for :Laughoutloud, oldgoat, McTag, Ionus, dlowan!

Great effort!





although all your work is.... 'derivative'
0 Replies
 
 

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