This last piece of frivolity is my real answer to Bonnie's interview question about the after-life...
Reincarnation
A priest I'd not like to inhabit.
I'd rather come back as a rabbit.
A sadhu is sadder,
A bishop is badder,
But worse is a monk with his habit.
I'd think it exceedingly queer
To take over the soul of E. Lear,
His beard would stink much
Of bird crap, and such,
And put off the women, I fear.
I'd find it remarkably calmer
To reincarnate as a lama,
But knowing my luck
With a karma that's stuck,
I'll return as Bin Laden (Osama).
(With apologies to Edward Lear.)
And that's quite enough of all that. I promise you, dear readers, that my posts will now return to more elevated issues and weighty matters. Like food, for instance...
Reincarnation
A priest I'd not like to inhabit.
I'd rather come back as a rabbit.
A sadhu is sadder,
A bishop is badder,
But worse is a monk with his habit.
I'd think it exceedingly queer
To take over the soul of E. Lear,
His beard would stink much
Of bird crap, and such,
And put off the women, I fear.
I'd find it remarkably calmer
To reincarnate as a lama,
But knowing my luck
With a karma that's stuck,
I'll return as Bin Laden (Osama).
(With apologies to Edward Lear.)
And that's quite enough of all that. I promise you, dear readers, that my posts will now return to more elevated issues and weighty matters. Like food, for instance...
6 comments:
You are having entirely too much fun here! Fun to tag along!
love it!!!! my mother wrote wonderful verse like this - always with a little twist that left you laughing ...
thanks for yours ... and for tweaking sweet memories of my mom ... off to dig out folder of her works that span fifty years
As if there was ever anything 'unserious', 'unweighty' or 'unelevated' about mirth and frivolity, wit and humor. I am enjoying the poem series, Robert, transcendental and tongue-in-cheek-al alike.
there once was a blogger from Notts
who liked to eat Marmite from pots
he ate forty three
and as we can see
that has made his poesy hop
boom boom
I don't know what I'll come back as:
wondering too much drives me crackers.
But when I pass on
be sure to have fun!
Feel free! Use my kneecaps for clackers!
Ho, ho! You are a witty lot! Thanks for your contributions to the canon. Now, if you don't rein yourselves in, I just might have to call the poetry police...
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