What Canu never says (with apologies to Traesha)

So many things I'm like to say
Expressing heartfelt joy.
I'll loudly shout "hurrah, hurray!"
Or Jabberwocky's "frabjous day!"
Or maybe e'en "callooh, callay!"
When ladies with me toy.

But...

Except in jest, there is a phrase
I'll never speak to you.
Though demon rips my flesh in strips
I simply cannot come to grips,
Nor let these sounds escape my lips
To utter a "whoo hoo!"

Please...give till it hurts

The God Blob cometh
And cometh right soon
Bubbling like the contents
Of an old spittoon

This is Canu Baraksson for Rick-itis. You know, friends, a lot of people suffer from this dread ailment, people that you may pass on the street every day. Yes, they look as though they've got it all together...suave, sophisticated, even handsome...yet they can't string two words together to save their souls. Your generous donations now could make all the difference. Please...give till it hurts. Send your pledge now to:

The Rick-itis Foundation
c/o Canu Baraksson
The Dark Hall of Barak
Mernac Underworld

First Kiss

I'd be more than a bit remiss
If I'd forgotten my first kiss.
The first time I did so indulge
To you I'll surely now divulge.

'Twas on a hill where flowers grew,
Pale green their leaves and gold their hue.
Beside the hill a tiny rill
Babbled ever, never still.

Around about us rose a mist.
No eye beheld our joyous tryst,
Nor saw what from it did ensue,
And I'll not say with who, with who.
No, I'll not say with who.

Quont's Question 25: You're kidding, right?

If perhaps I had more time
I could put this into rhyme
But I've many things to do
No leisure now to rhyme a screw

So...it's kind of a toss-up. A large and not especially comfortable rock covered with caterpillars in the woods? On the top of a mountain, the chosen spot which we discovered afterward was atop an anthill? On the hay bales in the second floor of the barn where the black cat provided a most attentive audience? I could go on, but like I said, I'm currently a bit short of time.

Quont's Question 24: 2008 Resolutions

I've taken on many and many a task,
More than I'm able, should you ask.
To tell you straight, no haw, no hem:
I don't know when I'll finish them.
For days contain a finite number
Of hours, and there's need to slumber.
I think it would be most sublime
If I might somehow gain some time.

I'll ask my father, the Dark Lord
If me, his son, he will reward
By making sure the suns stand still
(A task requiring mighty skill.)
If he will do it, then I know
The length of days will surely grow.
Then all my tasks complete I might
Ere Mernac day fades into night.

Meantime, my scribe is trying (again) to give up the loathsome habit of inhaling the smoke of burning tobacco leaves...and hoping it works this time. May the Thirteen Fathers give him success.

Quont's Question 23: How will you be spending the holidays?

Upon the eve of Christmas we shall go and cut the tree,
And drag it to the living room and set it up with glee.
The glass and paper ornaments, the gleaming silver balls
Will all be hung the twigs among until we've decked our halls.

The family all will gather round, including cats and dog.
I'll read the Dylan Thomas book; they'll sip at their eggnog.
And though they're grown, the boys will head for bed because they know
That Santa never visits until up the stairs they go.

And we shall have a jolly time, and we shall have our love,
And we shall have a blessing shining on us from above.
It's a feeling worth most everything that we shall ever own.
There'll be laughter, light, and music when our boys come home.

(and then I expect we'll just kick back and relax the rest of the week until it's time to get really wasted New Year's Eve.)

Quont's Questions 22: What does your name mean?

What a fascinating question. I've always been intrigued by the origins and meanings of words, and think I might have made a passable etymologist if I had put my mind to it.

In any case, let's consider my Mernac persona first. "Canu" come from the Welsh word meaning "to sing," which I considered highly appropriate. "Baraksson" should be self evident; break it down into its components..."Barak's" and "son." You might refer then to me as "the Singing Son of Barak," but that sounds a bit too stage-y, don't you think?

My scribe/artist's name is "Morgan." This also is Welsh, and it means "one who comes from the sea." There's a certain harmony (or possibly just inevitability) in that as well; his mother tells him that she named him for a Welsh pirate. In all honesty though, considering his preferences at the beach, she should have called him "one who walks the sands." Peace.