I remember how angry your visage turned When the young'un your order so rudely had spurned I thought you were gearing to give him a thump For resenting or dissenting or whatever to hump!
This Joppen you speak so highly about, Is he the Pablo Neruda spouting lout? I remember JC melt when all was said and done, For he made the lad sob (and his nose run)
Neruda fills JC with agape love, So He turned the other cheek*, when push came to shove. Isn't it nice when it all comes together? JC, Neruda, and the young mallu brether.
Firstly, let me clear the air For all those who weren't there; It was not meant to stimulate, Only to see if the act he would simulate. And the cause of my supposed ire Was not the boy's lack of desire, Rather, 'twas that he claimed to be a poet, Yet mixed up his words and didn't even know it. And I sincerely hope I didn't leave a permanent scar Though to be honest I haven't heard from him since he moved on to Llorca. 'Tis bad enough to be confronted with one's past crimes But twice as bad to see them discussed in rhymes So, pray tell, what is the cause of this history-dredging? Is it revenge for some past Quiz Club sledging?
I myself was very much there No need for you to clear the air! I saw our gentle Quizzing Mage Well up with unexpected Rage.
The point of this rhyming was not nasty nagging, The boy testifies to the wonders of ragging! And never again did he wail, or orca. Now what's all this about moving to Llorca?
Indeed I remember your presence that day, This is just covering my A. In case someone sees these comments And thinks to alert my parents. Incidentally, I said 'on', not 'to', But it should have been one 'l', not two. I got my Lorca confused with my Llosa, It's all this rhyming, I suppose, sir.
You had a rhyming dictionary
ReplyDeleteIf memory's worth a cent
I also recall young Joppen who
To hump, declared dissent.
It wasn't dissent,
ReplyDeleteIt was something he claimed to resent.
I suppose he got all confused
And only meant to say that he refused.
I remember how angry your visage turned
ReplyDeleteWhen the young'un your order so rudely had spurned
I thought you were gearing to give him a thump
For resenting or dissenting or whatever to hump!
This Joppen you speak so highly about,
ReplyDeleteIs he the Pablo Neruda spouting lout?
I remember JC melt when all was said and done,
For he made the lad sob (and his nose run)
Neruda fills JC with agape love,
ReplyDeleteSo He turned the other cheek*, when push came to shove.
Isn't it nice when it all comes together?
JC, Neruda, and the young mallu brether.
* Get it? Get it?
Firstly, let me clear the air
ReplyDeleteFor all those who weren't there;
It was not meant to stimulate,
Only to see if the act he would simulate.
And the cause of my supposed ire
Was not the boy's lack of desire,
Rather, 'twas that he claimed to be a poet,
Yet mixed up his words and didn't even know it.
And I sincerely hope I didn't leave a permanent scar
Though to be honest I haven't heard from him since he moved on to Llorca.
'Tis bad enough to be confronted with one's past crimes
But twice as bad to see them discussed in rhymes
So, pray tell, what is the cause of this history-dredging?
Is it revenge for some past Quiz Club sledging?
I myself was very much there
ReplyDeleteNo need for you to clear the air!
I saw our gentle Quizzing Mage
Well up with unexpected Rage.
The point of this rhyming was not nasty nagging,
The boy testifies to the wonders of ragging!
And never again did he wail, or orca.
Now what's all this about moving to Llorca?
Indeed I remember your presence that day,
ReplyDeleteThis is just covering my A.
In case someone sees these comments
And thinks to alert my parents.
Incidentally, I said 'on', not 'to',
But it should have been one 'l', not two.
I got my Lorca confused with my Llosa,
It's all this rhyming, I suppose, sir.