Parody is homage gone sour.
quote by Brendan Gill

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We have to do a film parody for Comic Relief. We can't decide which film to parody at the moment. Any ideas welcome, but not Spiderman owing to costume being too tight.
quote by Dawn French

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If you pay homage to the man on top, others will pay homage to you when it's your turn to be on top.
Ode to A Sour Pickle
Ode to a sour pickle,
To pucker up your puss.
Lay down a shiny nickel,
Come on, don't be a wuss.
The heck with kosher dills,
And sweet little pickles too.
It's sour pickles for your gills,
Can't take a thing in lieu.
A big ole sour pickle,
Will bring on a grimace.
Where they're concerned I'm fickle,
Please bear me no malice.
12/23/10 Alton Texas
poem by by unknown author

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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an unhappy childhood of this man who names himself 'I'.....
i've seen this picture of you
on that far corner of the world
land of snow and you are inside that very thick
winter clothes
there is that smile in your face
and i am taking a closer look
it is sour.
i know what sour is. I've been one for forty years
wearing that
sour smile, and i have many reasons why a smile must be sour
for forty years
the reasons are sour
very sour
beyond those tastes of a hundred green lemons
or a green mango with some disturbing gums on its mouth
i burned all my pictures in college
except those when i was yet a boy beside my mama and our white dog
i was in grade one and i did not like school and mama forced me into it
i was selling chocolates and i ate them all and mama was mad at me and beat me with a stick
papa did not like me reading books as he does not know how to read
i climb trees and hide on the leaves and read stories
in our dialect and draw some pictures of women without their dresses on
you see i still have this picture of myself riding a carabao and hauling some wood and coconut palms
i take a close look of my own smile, It is very sour
and it tastes like yours, but perhaps mine is the worst
but i am happy now, i know how to suppress sour smiles, i know how to manage and project myself
i smile like a cow now, and laugh like a horse
because all of them are dead.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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What Is It That You Like?
don't you like this sweetness
of my words?
you are bored with this sugar
and honey
and cream?
you are afraid you have become
sick of such
sweet tongue
such sweet indulgence?
oh, you want something bitter
something sour now?
some bitter herbs some sour
species of green lemons?
try me,
i am a bitter person
i am the latest delicacy of
all that is sour
and
decomposing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Homage
People take bath
And pay homage
To their favourite
Deity.
I take bath
And pay
Homage
To my
Poetry
For if she
Blesses me,
I'll always be
A prolific poet.
(Theme: Worship)
poem by Aparna Chatterjee

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The Grateful Dead are our religion. This is a religion that doesn't pay homage to the God that all the other religions pay homage to.
The Fruity Taste of Life
Sweet and sour is life
What yours shall be, destiny shall contrive
But dependence on destiny shall decrease
And it will then depend on you, my friend decrees
What say you to that?
What surprise can pull from the hat?
Think of the sweet Tangerine
Perhaps you would, the sour Tamarind
They both spell L-I-F-E
For not even in strife
Shall the sweet in Tangerine
Be comparable to the sour in Tamarind
poem by Maureen Oby Iwueke Gbagir

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Sour
some fruits are loved
for their being sour
it is their sourness
that reminds of their essence
like the green mango
it is even missed more
than when it ripened
but with you my love
do not worry
sour or sweet or bitter
we will always be together
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Song Seven
Song Seven
you cant sit up
you fell too fast
you come at the right time
you come too fast
you bloom in spring
you move the sky
youve come in singing
you call me a liar
you were like a cloud
yes you are a flower
then you were a lime
now our love is sour
you were like a flower
you were just like a flower
then you were a lime
now our love is sour
dont give up (I owe you)
no dont give up
oh dont give up
dont give up (I owe you)
you were like a cloud
yes you were a flower
then you were a lime
now our love is sour
you were like a cloud
you were just like a flower
then you were a lime
now our love is sour
here I feel I wish I could just see it
the love the hate the things that separate
forcing conscious to conscious every small attack
it takes a small man to notice but not to act up
confrontation complication needs a foundation
I'm calm baby, I'm calm
you were like a cloud
yes you are a flower you move i love life is all we need
then you were a lime
now our love is so sour you move i love life is all we need
so sour
so sour
dont give up
no dont give up
oh dont give up
no dont give up
start again butterfly
start again butterfly
start again butterfly
start again, start again dear
song performed by by Interpol

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ghazal 119
I don't need
a companion who is
nasty sad and sour
the one who is
like a grave
dark depressing and bitter
a sweetheart is a mirror
a friend a delicious cake
it isn't worth spending
an hour with anyone else
a companion who is
in love only with the self
has five distinct characters
stone hearted
unsure of every step
lazy and disinterested
keeping a poisonous face
the more this companion waits around
the more bitter everything will get
just like a vinegar
getting more sour with time
enough is said about
sour and bitter faces
a heart filled with desire for
sweetness and tender souls
must not waste itself with unsavory matters
So You Don't Like The Sour Man?
so, here you are again, feeling sorry for the sour man
the one who does not know how to stretch his face
to make a smile
the one consumed by the ghosts of his own worries
that never came
the one who stays in the nook
afraid,
you do not like this sour man
scared, not easy to handle, expensive
to the pocket
you do not find him
a good company to your sports
laughter
and happy-go-lucky
merry, merry, merry,
round and round
telling people hey life is short why not just enjoy every minute of it
savor the moments
lick every sweet dropp of life like honey to your finger
finger licking good
till the last dropp till the supply lasts
take today, today, today, why worry about tomorrow
oh, you do not like the sour man
and you are angry at him
well, it is sad, the sour man has conquered you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Responsum to All my days are trances
A las the dream askance is
N or is Life what it seems,
A s swift pass all Time’s chances -
N ow here, now gone, - Man’s schemes
S mile once! Ephemeral glances
WER e spent on empty dreams!
© Jonathan Robin acrostic parody written 26 June 1996 Parody Responsum to All my days are trances
All my days are trances
And all my days are trances
and all my nightly dreams
are where thy dark eye glances
and where they footstep gleams
by what ethereal dances
in what eternal streams...
Author Unknown
poem by Jonathan Robin

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Sitting Bull - Parody Harry Graham - Ruthless Rhymes
Sitting Bull - Parody Harry Graham - Ruthless Rhymes
Sitting Bull
Squire Squint, aiming at a pheasant,
maimed instead a stting bull,
turned tail, - but ‘tis the bull at present
frames the ears, keeps leg to pull!
1 August 1991,21 July 2006 Parody Harry GRAHAM Ruthless Rhymes
Sitting Duck
Squire Squint, banging at a pheasant,
pranged, instead, a sitting duck, -
Said he, “It is a bit unpleasant
for hitting peasant to come unstuck ! ”
1 August 1991,21 July 2006 Parody Harry GRAHAM Ruthless Rhymes
Laying Back
Squire Squint, swatting a mosquito,
missed the pest but slipped a disc, -
discomfort followed and a veto
from Doctor Best for reckless risk.
21 July 2006 Parody Harry GRAHAM Ruthless Rhymes
Ruthless Rhymes
Père repère quelques cris
de ses très chers, - frères ennemis,
Il noie les trois, ensuite il dit: -
‘Vus, pas sentis, - pauvres chéris! ’
17 August 1977
Ruthless Rhymes
Father heard his children scream
so he threw them in the stream,
saying, as he drowned the third,
‘Children should be seen, not heard’
Harry GRAHAM 1874_1936
poem by Jonathan Robin

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Homage
today i pay homage
to the turtle and for those like it
are too slow
for almost anything
its inability to cope up with the
arrogant and speedy rabbit
the subject of
too much mockery
in that snail-paced history
today i pay homage
to persistence and flexibility
to patience and stoicism
to faith that grows steadily within the hearts of every man
that respect for every block of brick
that makes the long winding gate of protection
that composes the great wall
of the house
for every step
that does the ways of master builder
though small and slow
yet still sure
today i pay homage for all the other
slow processes
of solitude
those quiet manners of the
grass and the leaves
the tender climb of the tendrils on the trellis of the fence
the steady flourishing of the
petals on the sepals of the
morning flower
today i pay homage to
those tiny green turtles anchored
quietly
beside the gleaming stone of the ancient pond
of our civilization
those sleepy eyes under the moon
full of wisdom
showered by the rain and sunshine of the ages
not rushing for anything
they are all here
undisturbed and thriving still
not hurting anyone
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Sour Milk-cow Blues
You like coffee and you like tea
Much more than you like me
And everybody says watch out yeah
For the sour milk-cow blues
You like your coffee just a little too sweet
Without your sugar life is incomplete
And everybody says watch out yeah
For the sour milk-cow blues
I think about you everyday
Something about you is not the same
Something about the things you say
Sounds like a different woman with a different name
Sour milk-cow blues
You wear a different size and style of shoe
I think that someone must be poisoning you
To replace you with a living double
Get out of my life right now and save them all of the trouble
They changed your complexion and your personality
Somebodys putting ideas in your head
They took the girl of my dreams and left you here instead
Sour milk-cow blues
You take your place in this parade of pleas
You dial a number and they offer relief
All alone with just your own device
They give you something and it isnt advice
To break the hearts of a million listeners
Start out as lovers and you end up as prisoners
Somebodys suffering from the things that you do
Somebodys suffering but youre glad it isnt you
Put your fingertips up to the screen
Repeat after me, wake at the count of three
Now I dont know which is worse
What theyre doing to you or what youre doing to me
Sour milk-cow blues
song performed by by Elvis Costello

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How do I parody? after Elizabeth Barrett Browning Sonnet XLIII How do I love thee?
How Do I Parody?
How true I parody! Let me count the ways.
I parody in depth, taste copy paste insight
My mind can reach into your writing quite
Through APing Ways and Means, through rhyme’s mainstays.
I parody to the level of everyday's
post hosting feed, by sun, electric light.
In vers libres freely, sonnet set to right;
I pastiche purely, rarely spurning praise.
Reparody with passion put to use
through griefs, beliefs, rehearsed, though wanting faith.
I parody love’s theme, who dreams accuse.
Newfangled paints b[l]end colour bending brea[d]th,
Smiles, tears, [p]rune poem’s life! - and, if judge choose,
gold goblets garner, googled after death.
Parody Elizabeth Barrett Browning Sonnet XLIII How Do I Love Thee
12 February 2007 revised 10 June 2008 and 30 September 2009
for previous versions see below robi3_1323_brow7_0001 PSX_IXX
________________
How do I Parody?
How do I parody? Let me count the ways.
I parody in depth, with taste and with insight,
my mind may reach into your writing quite
through APing Ways and Means, through rhyme’s mainstays.
I parody to the level of everyday's
intimate grace, by sun, electric light.
in vers libres freely, sonnet set to right.
I pastiche purely, rarely turn from Praise,
reparody with passion put to use
through your old griefs, beliefs, though wanting faith.
I parody with love I’d never lose,
use paints newfangled, shading E.B.B.ing breath,
still showing your life's smiles, tears, for, should judge choose,
my golden goblet fame lives loved past death.
Parody Elizabeth Barrett Browning Sonnet XLIII How Do I Love Thee
[c] Jonathan Robin - 2 February 2007 revised 10 June 2008 robi3_1611_brow7_0001 PSX_IXX for previous version see below
_____________
Parody Elizabeth Barrett Browning Sonnet XLIII How Do I Love Thee
[c] Jonathan Robin - 2 February 2007 robi3_1611_brow7_0001 PSX_IXX for previous version see below
Sonnet XLIII
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, - I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! - and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
Elisabeth Barrett BROWNING 1806_1861
poem by Jonathan Robin

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In Paying Homage To The Loss
i pay homage to a loss
what i give is mourning
i wear black
it is a dark night that i wear
no sooner that i realize
tonight
i become the moon
i shine
i go with the immensity of my light
covering the trees
and the plains
this homage will not last
it is just a respect
for a loss
no loss stays in my house longer
it dislikes my candid disposition
for i tell it myself
i, too welcome gain in my dwelling
success that comes visiting
assuring me
that i, too, deserve one.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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You can parody almost anything.
quote by Bruce McCall

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sour Lemon Tree
A sour lemon tree flower attracts the bee
While its fruit is bitter not so its flower
White is its flower sweet and very pretty
Only the fruit is bitter and that's just a pity
As the beauty of its flower resist not a bee
It's the simple truth
Or see the sour lemon tree
With fruit that is bitter bears a lemon tree
But useful is its fruit good for everyday use
Once said a bee... your flower is very sweet
It carries fragrance scented out in the street
Yet bears you fruit bitter no one wants to eat
It's partly the truth
Or see the sour lemon tree
A citrus tree with fruit no other tree bears
Then out of the tree came a nice neat voice
'Twas like a voice of one who's very wise
This is what it said trees are not so free
One made a decree for every bearing tree
It's partly the truth
Or see the sour lemon tree
The Creator decides the fruit a tree bears
Whether it be bitter or whether it be sweet
The Creator decrees for every bearing tree
To bring forth fruit ordained for it to bear
Then sweet or bitter bears a tree its fruit
It's the simple truth
Or see the sour lemon tree.
poem by Clarence Prince

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