Tuesday, October 23, 2007

By the Fathers! Quont hath asked yet another question!

Question 15 in the Never-ending Saga: What Drives Me Crazy

What things are most likely to to drive this one crazy
Or bonkers or stark raving mad?
Air fresheners scented with essence of daisy
When they're out of season.
There's really no reason.
This may sound like treason,
But I don't find them pleasin'
They smell most remarkably bad.

What things are most likely to drive this one crazy
Or whacko or way round the bend?
If my audience doesn't remember to praise me
I've got certain standards
They should wave my banners
(And not throw ba-nan-ers;
That's awfully bad manners.)
At least have the grace to pretend.

What things are most likely to drive this one crazy
Or nutty or over the edge?
Punctuation uncalled for; now that one just slays me.
What they've done to the tale:
Why, the narrative's pale.
And the story lacks breath.
It's been "comma'd" to death.
I'll, never, do, that, I, do, pledge,

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

The answer to the Happy Place and everything in the universe is Question 14

I offer you my happy place.
'Twill put a smile upon your face,
As oft it does upon my own,
When I've been sad or all alone.

It lies not far away, you see.
I carry it around with me.
Nay, not from choice; I cannot choose.
It's just a place I may not lose.

Where'er I travel, far or near,
I turn to look; it still is here.
It matters little where I stray.
My happy place ne'er goes away.

If I on leafy bed would lie
My happy place doth satisfy.
Or if I'd camp in bower or dell
My happy place still serves me well.

"Where is this happy place?" you ask.
Would you this scribbler take to task?
Perhaps, like me, you'll come to find
'Tis lodged securely in the mind.

Thursday, October 4, 2007

Uncle Quont's Question 12: Shocking!

The shocking-est thing that ever I did
I'd have you to understand
Occurred when I was no longer a kid
But not yet considered a man

'Twas back in the day when the color of grey
For the most part left my head alone
Back when my hairdo wore a dark ebon hue
No glimmer of white, it was black as the night
Like a shiny obsidian stone

Near the end of October a good friend stopped over
Exclaiming most hearty "Let's go to a party!"
And I swiftly agreed, for she had it well planned
That we'd dress ourselves up as a glitter rock band

So I spread in my hair a concoction most gooey
To lighten it, thinking I'd ape David Bowie
She told me 'twould wash away most easily
By applying shampoo maybe two times (or three)

Author's note on the party: A most righteous time was had by all!

Next day I shampooed, then I did it again
And I did it again and again and again
Then looked in the mirror and let out a "Yipes!"
The effect I'd achieved looked just like tiger stripes
With deep shades of black and the brightest of orange
(And we all know nothing rhymes with orange, but what the hell...)

Anyway

"In six weeks it'll wear out" she said, but she lied
For six long months I wore the do I'd applied
To the barber shop then with no least little doubt
It was now long enough for to cut the stripes out

Author's apology to those who may like striped hair: Sorry. Nothing wrong with it really, but it's just not me. Of course, it did attact a certain female a few months after the Halloween party who was fairly intrigued to find out what was wrong with this dude. She hung around long enough trying to figure it out that eventually she agreed to marry me. Next month we will have been together 30 years. So, me or no, shocking or no, I've no regrets. Peace.