Best Beastie Poems
Alone in the wood featureless and stark
a little beastie out its hollow leapt,
for countless years behind the hidden bark
its lost soul among the undead crept.
In the House of the Garden of Hollies
beckoned a bright light through asylum gate,
and led him from those dark satanic trees
to be with her in a late tryst of fate.
In the long night of its fiery scorch
roared a breathing dragon fire,
and in its smoke and flame and torch
burned a beastie desire!
Caught in its horns and razor long claws
he rode its bare back on wings of flight -
to its waiting cave and locked chamber doors
and temptations of her burn and bite.
Into the bed of a wood dragon's lair
fell the little wee beastie into her snare,
but in her trap that cunning little prey
clipped her wings before she got away.
In the long night of its fiery scorch
roared a breathing dragon fire,
and in its smoke and flame and torch
burned a beastie desire!
Written: December 1997
Whether virtual or actual paths cross,
aye great thee ahoy
no fear Mademoiselle or Monsieur,
thy harried style haint cloy
rather, when embarking
on introductory acquaintance
ship, aye employ
swiftly tailored indistinguishable,
asper this wordsmith mebbe goy
or Jew, yet genealogically
thine Semitic lineage,
unknown descendants begat,
one generation after
stitched another thread,
whence warp and woof, sans dat
(moth eaten tattered wool worth
coat of arms), twas slim and/or fat
chance biologic dice throw
adumbrated me Matt,
a skinny, quirky,
and nerdy kid, who sat
alone during lunchtime
at school pained, plagued,
and pronounced with extreme,
where introversion didst agitate
chronic state of misery being alive
immobilized, hogtied, and forfeited
natural predilection
to discover and create
heterosexual relationships,
viz interpersonal experiences
re: raison to date
initial intimate rapport
(anxiety fraught) fate
full situation with a gal
giving her good grief great
(yes, twas Maryann Sage),
who understandably became irate
predicated on lack
of mine demonstrative affection
quickly becoming an unsuitable mate
though now in retrospect
(hindsight always 20/20)
a sudden resurgent spate
finds remembrance of things passed
(with her) engendering
cerebral tete a tete
rankling memories,
hence for death aye cannot wait!
In the town of Munchin-Broten,
every single Fall
people held a baking contest
for the big and small.
So, one time Elaine McMiller
thought she'd win a prize:
flour, yeast plus salt and water.
Now the dough will rise.
Just before the dough was ready
for the baking pan,
bold Elaine thought that she would make it
look just like a man!
But as soon as it was ready
for the oven's heat,
her creation seemed to wiggle
both its hands and feet.
Then it said: "My maker-baker,
please don't bake me yet.
Add a pinch more yeast — and pronto!
you will win, I bet.
You can pour it in my belly,
then just watch me grow.
I will make you very famous.
You will steal the show!"
When he ate the yeast, he started
growing very fast.
He was bigger than a table
when he stopped at last.
"Thanks for dinner. That was lovely.
But I want dessert.
Hand it over, or the baker
might, perchance, get hurt..."
Poor Elaine was shaking-quaking,
as she got the yeast.
Gulp and chomp — the swelling glutton
weighed a ton at least.
"You can call me Yeastie-Beastie,"
said the monster now.
"I would like to try some other,
better-tasting chow.
You, my friend, are quite a morsel.
Don't put up a fight.
I won't swallow you — I promise,
I'll just take one bite."
Even though Elaine was cornered,
she did not lose heart.
Yeastie-Beastie was humongous,
but Elaine was smart.
Cont'd in Yeastie-Beastie: Part 2
Cont'd from Yeastie-Beastie: Part 1
"If you have more yeast," she uttered,
"you'll be quite a sight.
With a bigger mouth you'll surely
take a bigger bite."
So the greedy Yeastie-Beastie
ate up all the yeast.
"Burp!" he said. "I'm getting bigger.
What a smashing feast!"
As his head went through the ceiling,
she said: "I'm in luck!
You can never catch me, Yeastie,
'cause you're good and stuck."
But the Yeastie-Beastie sed,
growing more and more.
When the house was all in pieces,
he began to roar:
"Oh, you thought you'd trick me, did you?
You were having fun?
Now, the joke's on you, my baker.
Can you laugh and run?"
Through the yard and down the alley
dashed Elaine in fear.
She could hear the Yeastie-Beastie
huffing very near.
It was hot: the sun was searing
everything below.
This made running very sweaty
and each step too slow.
When she saw a park with banners
looming far ahead,
from behind she caught a whiff of
yummy baking bread.
"I will catch you," laughed the Beastie.
"It is only right
that I get my long awaited,
promised, luscious bite!"
But he ran a bit more slowly.
Once he even fell.
What pursued Elaine was something
like a bready smell.
In the park the Yeastie-Beastie
slowed down to a walk.
As she peered at her pursuer,
chimed the city clock.
Thrice it chimed, and she remembered
what was going on:
Munchin-Broten's baking contest
on the park's main lawn.
When she ran up to the judges,
they exclaimed: "First prize!
We have never seen a bread man
of such giant size."
True enough, the Yeastie-Beastie
was already done:
he'd been baked while he was running
in the scorching sun.
So Elaine McMiller gathered
all her baker's might,
eyed the crust of her creation
and took out a bite.
I hate it when a flea
takes a liking to me
and keeps darting in front of my eyes.
I try swatting it away,
but she thinks it's play,
and so keeps it up - till she dies.
O yon Loch Ness Monster
is come out of the lake
through all the wide border
his tail left a wake
and save his fire-breathing
he weapons had none
he swam all unharmed
and fair maidens he won
so faithful in love
yet so very messy
there never was wee beastie
like the young dragon Nessie
(With apologies to Sir Walter Scott)
Vengeance worms in its way
after art of submission falls prey
Bass slap riff and chords ring funky,
beats that warm the brass monkey