989. Charge of the Night Brigade

Here's another parody poem (or as J. Patrick Lewis calls them, a 'parrot-y') gestated by the parrot-y party going on at David L. Harrison's blog. This one is based on Lord Alfred Tennyson's famous poem The Charge of the Light Brigade. I was first introduced to the original when I was in middle-school, and portions of it have stuck with me ever since. Since the original is now in public domain, I have reproduced it side-by-side with the parody for your reading pleasure.

[Warning: I rate this poem as PG for excessive violence and macabre themes][though to be fair to myself, the original is no less violent :) ]

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The Charge of the Night Brigade Parody By Vikram Madan I. Half a leg, half a leg, Half a leg onward, All in the alley of Death   Shuffled six hundred. Zombies, the night pervade “Brains!” were the words unsaid. Into the alley of Death   Shuffled six hundred. II. Zombies, the night pervade Was there a man dismayed? Wherefrom they came anew   No one had wondered. Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to eat an eye. Into the alley of Death   Shuffled six hundred. III. Human to right of them, Human to left of them, Human in front of them   Panicked and blundered; Stormed at with shoe and shell, Coldly they flowed and fell, Carrying their jaws of Death, Carrying their mouths of hell   Shuffled six hundred. IV. Flashed all their ulnas bare, Moaned as they clawed the air, Chasing the humans there, Mindlessly swarming, while   The whole world sundered. Pounding on pine and oak Right through the doors they broke; Redneck and Yuppie Reeled from each horrid-stroke   Splattered, fell under. Then they flowed back, but not,   Not the six hundred. V. Human to right of them, Human to left of them, Human behind them,   Infected and plundered; Tainted with zombie spell, Rose now, who once had fell, They that had fed so well Carried their jaws of Death Carried infectious hell, Now there were more of them,   More than six hundred. VI. When can their hunger fade? When ends their dark parade?   None left to wonder. Fear now the charge they made! Fear that undead brigade,   Hundreds and hundreds   And hundreds and hundreds   And hundreds and hundreds   And hundreds…

The Charge of the Light Brigade By Lord Alfred Tennyson 1809–1892 I. Half a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death    Rode the six hundred. “Forward, the Light Brigade! Charge for the guns!” he said. Into the valley of Death    Rode the six hundred. II. “Forward, the Light Brigade!” Was there a man dismayed? Not though the soldier knew    Someone had blundered. Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do and die. Into the valley of Death    Rode the six hundred. III. Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon in front of them    Volleyed and thundered; Stormed at with shot and shell, Boldly they rode and well, Into the jaws of Death, Into the mouth of hell    Rode the six hundred. IV. Flashed all their sabres bare, Flashed as they turned in air Sab’ring the gunners there, Charging an army, while    All the world wondered. Plunged in the battery-smoke Right thro’ the line they broke; Cossack and Russian Reeled from the sabre stroke    Shattered and sundered. Then they rode back, but not    Not the six hundred. V. Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon behind them    Volleyed and thundered; Stormed at with shot and shell, While horse and hero fell. They that had fought so well Came through the jaws of Death, Back from the mouth of hell, All that was left of them,    Left of six hundred. VI. When can their glory fade? O the wild charge they made!    All the world wondered. Honour the charge they made! Honour the Light Brigade,    Noble six hundred!

 Illustrations and Parody Copyright (c) 2012 Vikram Madan
 

Now that was fun wasn't it? :)

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993. The Ogre's Meal (or The Toad Not Taken)

Continuing on the bowlderization challenge mentioned in the previous post, heres another parody of another famous Robert Frost poem - The Road Not Taken.

This was a fun parody to produce in that I made the most minimal number of changes to the original poem. I've highlighted the words I changed in grey below (only 22! - and yes, the third stanza is entirely untouched).

Note: the title is an important part of this poem.

The Ogre’s Meal (a.k.a. The Toad Not Taken)
Parody by Vikram Madan

Two toads emerged in a yellow wood
And sorry I could not gobble both
And be one gobbler, long I stood
And looked in one as far as I could
And smelled it’s scent in the undergrowth




Then took the other, as just as scowled
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was warty and smelled more foul
Though as for that the passing fowl
Had fouled them really about the same

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black
Oh, I kept the first for another day
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back

I shall be telling this with a cuss
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two toads emerged in a wood, and thus -
I took the one more odorous
And that has made all the flatulence.

Parody Copyright © 2012, Vikram Madan

 

994. Whose Woods These Are

Today's bit of poetry comes from another challenge on David Harrison's blog, prompted by J. Patrick Lewis (current U.S. Children's Poet Laureate) for a form of poetry they call 'First Lines, Bowlderized'. There's a fun set of poems posted on David's site by many well known author's. My humble addition is a take on Robert Frost's well known poem (read the original version here if you're not familiar with it):

Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening
Parody by Vikram Madan 

Whose woods these are I do not know
The bank foreclosed them long ago
My Ponzi scheme is in arrears
I’m out on bail and laying low

My little website had no peer
The suckers came from far and near
“Buy bits of woods and quickly make
The largest returns of the year!”

The more I paid the more I raked
But my success was my mistake
I couldn’t help but stop and weep
When Feds denounced me as a flake

My trial is lonely, dark and deep
But I have skeletons to keep
And files to shred before I sleep
And files to shred before I sleep

Parody Copyright (c) 2012, Vikram Madan

Bonus Tip: I learnt from Jane Yolen that both the original and this poem can be sung to the tune of Hernando's Hideaway (see the Pajama Game version here).