Here's your chance to emulate the late, great Edgar Allan Poe--well, sort of. Post your two stanza parodies of Poe's famous poem, The Raven. Be creative! Remember to copy Poe's rhythm and rhyme scheme, but the topic's all yours!
These need to be posted by Friday morning!
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This has nothing to do with the parodie, but to get to the class quotes, click on my name (blue).
Once upon a weekend dreary, while i pondered, bright and cheary. over a dark green car in my drive.
while i dreamed, nearly shaking there came a gently rumbling. a loud purring, purring, from a firebird. "tis no big engine" i muttered "a 301 and nothingmore."
Ah distinctly i remember twas a bleak December. and this little old car wrought it's ghost upon my drive. Eagerly i wished the opponent who would come to challenge the firebird. from my history i could realize why the opponents do fear the firebird. the T/A was unstoppable and this was known for it was the almighty firebird. just a 301 and nothingmore.
i really hope that qualifies and by the way i am pretty sure that Poe would envy my skills as a poet.
once upon a daytime dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
how tired i am of research papers,
and endless amounts of notecards.
what a waste of time doing these labors,
all this work is just too hard!
quoth mrs. svoboda "ah, but there are more tasks in store!"
disgruntled, i groaned, "nevermore!"
my eyes are tired from reading source books,
my hands are cramping from copying info,
i just want to lie down and sleep in a nook!
o, god, when will it be december four?
for then i can be done with this curs-ed chore!
will i write one again? said i, "nevermore!"
Once upon a sunny day, I took my brother out to play. We jumped the gate and ran through the garden where we found a boar. While I wondered why it was here suddenly we saw more appear. We started counting them, counted till we got to four
"Tis a family." I muttered, "a happy family of four."
Lets feed them an apple core.
Ah, distinctly I recall they didn't like the apple at all. So we went to the cuboards to find something more. We looked in our fridge and found some cheese, the pigs we were sure to please. So we divided it up and to peices we tore.
Then we went to the store and bought them some more. When we got home we fed all four.
The anonymous one above is mine
Once upon a Saturday shining I sat afloat constantly whining
About many a thing, similar to severe fishing bore
I sat there pondering when my line began wand'ring
Like something lightly tugging, tugging at my line
Tis a snag tugging gently, tugging on my fishing line
Not a fish to make mine.
This day was like any other it was one of glorious summer,
And each vivid color brought its splendor to the floor.
Child-like, I wished to view the fish that would come from the deep blue,
But here the line was ruined—ruined by a nameless item
Now, vainly, I seek the giant fish that fought so greatly,
But he is never to be brought ashore.
Once upon a daytime dreary, I pondered weak and weary,
of where my ballet shoe could be,
and why someone took it from me. My shoe was gone, but I found myself sad not long, for a close friend came to me, a furry friend, so you see.
He informed me of my lost love, in reference to a dove at the window, for the dove, a widow, was the theif, only to be a treacherous creep. I thanked my good friend, for he really was only pretend, but my shoe was gone, never to be found for long.
The dove, a widow, at the window, needed the shoe, for she was getting the flu. She needed it for her nest, so I put this to a rest and went back to dance, to listen to some trance.
Sometime in the months so dreary, as I recall,
oh so clearly,
A friend to me came up so cheery,
and beckoned me
to come to watch something quite leery
In my current brooding mood.
"Not 'Back to the Future',"
said I morosely, "I cannot stand it, so do not push me-
Please, oh friend, I do implore."
"Alas," said he, "you won't be happy-
For this I have, it is part Three of the trilogy
you so despise.
"So you have," I said with sorrow, "come to me just to harrow.
Now I hope you'll come to me no more,
Not to-morrow,
nevermore.
For bringing me this film so horrid, I wish for you flames so torrid
For you are, kind sir,
Nameless here forevermore.
Quoth the Classroom,"Snore"
ONce upon a Monday dreary, while I sauntered, weak and weary
Over many pages of homework yet to be done or...
Suddenly at the door! Clearly kind yet poorly timed
A voice of wise mind, speaking though my bedroom door.
"Tis only my father," I chimed,"To wake me by my bedroom door."
"Tis this and nothing more."
Next, distinctively I remember it was in bleak November;
I was in English, the class I least deplore.
Uneasily I read - I'd rather be dead
To my group of high thread, the quite lovely Man-Core.
I wrote theses beautiful lines for those who do adore
That manly clan of now and yore.
Once upon an evening napping, came a quiet, distant tapping,
Relentless sound with source unknown.
I arose with thoughts of violence, calling down the hall for silence,
But with no one to voice defiance,
I found that I was quite alone.
-No one to hear my angry tone.
Down the hall I started creeping, wishing that I was still sleeping,
Beneath the blankets I had thrown.
Toward the kitchen quietly slipping, my heart racing, suspense gripping,
To find the faucet to be dripping,
Relief! The source of noise was known.
-Free to return to dreams my own.
Once upon an magical dreary, while I pondered dark and eerie, I remembered my love of Harry Potter. While I read for endless days, and wondered what could possibly happen. I suddenly forgot, it was all pretend, and very soon would come it's end.
Ah, distinctly, I remember when it all began, and very soon I became a fan. The mystical world became so alive. Eagerly I wished it could all be real, how that would make the muggles feel. For the rare and radiant readers around, we all understand how it is so profound.
I must say that i truly loved those already posted and i must say that i do believe that Blcok 1 has some pretty good ones.
Once upon weekend dreary, while i pondered work and fun, Of many a dumb and worthless nights, While i nooded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a hooded caper, As if he was one who demanded service,
Tis some customer, i muttered, capped and hooded, only this and nothing more.
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in a greek November, With each passing day wrought upon the calender, I pondered exactly why it was, that one man was in a cap and hood, Eagerly I wished the hast: so that i might go to waste.
From my working slumber, i wept for i slumbered no more, for the rare and radiant sleep, whom the angels called ease
Yea i'm not a good poet, and i know it. but i would like to have tried to get across is that i like to sleep at work and one day some weirdo came in, in cap and huge hood, and then made me stay late. yea im a bad poet
Sooo pretty sure I didn't do this right... but i tried, right? I'm sorry if I did it way off track...
Once upon a evening dreary, while i struggled, weak and weary,
Over homework i yelled and panicked slightly as it is such a bore,
While I sat there, nearly napping, suddenly there came a pounding,
As if some one gently pounding, pounding on my bedroom floor.
"Ha! Tis no one there," I chuckled, "pounding on my bedroom floor--
Only sounds, and nothing more."
Next, I remember distinctly it in the bleack November,
And each separate sly sound eagerly got louder on the floor,
Silently I wished it away,-- while I focused quietly
On my books and words of boredom-- the sound appeared at the door--
For the nice and radiant puppy who appeared excitedly at the door--
Only this, and nothing more.
Well, here goes nothing...
Once upon a day so merry, while I ate ice cream, delicious, with a cherry,
With many a’ good friends all gathered ‘round,
While we laughed, nearly crying, suddenly there was a sound,
It was as if someone were trying, trying at the door,
‘Who is it?’ we shouted. ‘Just just push a little more,
It is just a really old door’
Oh, how clearly I remember, it was a really fun night in November,
We each had a present for Justine’s birthday for fourteen, plus four,
No one wanted tomorrow to come, ‘cause that would be a really big bum.
There was lot of fun and games - games for some or more-
Because games are fun, with games one can ask for what more,
At the birthday of fourteen plus four.
Hehe, my frined just turned 18 and we are celebrating her birthday this weekend. YAY!
The pages turn crisp and new, just as fresh as morning dew;
Past the words and through the mist, I meet my friends from before;
Ancient blades are once again sharpened as the threat comes steadily marchin';
With the gate barred and the archers ready, the trumpets cry war;
From the fortress, echoed in the valley, cry the trumpets war;
Far away in the kingdom by the shore.
The arrows are fired, bowstrings singing, steel on steel soon follows ringing;
The walls are strong, our foes are weak, yet they march on to our door;
Trumpets still echo, yet over the wall, vaguely through the mist, my name, in a call;
Back through the mist and past the words, I answer my name with only a bore;
Torn from the pages and to the board, I answer my question, still only with bore;
Then eagerly return back to the shore.
The battle was long but has been ended, the wounded, with rum, are quickly mended;
Despite my desire, the pages turn blank, leaving my heart with no more than a sore;
The cover closes with a heavy sigh, new adventures won't come till next July;
Away from the board my imagination flies, past the words back to explore;
Through the mist and to a ship, down with the sails, back to explore;
Past the stars to a more distant shore.
Once upon a midnight dreary, While i sit upon my bed a pearing,
Out into the night so dark through the old window screen,
While i nodded, nearly napping, suddenly came a yapping,
As of the dogs loudly barking, barking outside the backdoor
"Just something in the yard," i mumbled, "something outside the backdoor-only this and nothing more"
Ah, i surely remember it was in the bleak november,
For it was cold outside and i did not care to look for the cause of this doom.
They would not quiet so i went to the backdoor and peared out,
A rabit out rustling about
Thats all it is, so i go back to my room.
Just a rabbit out there and nothing more.
Once upon a late night dreary, while i sat there, weak and wary,
After many hours of running nad jumping, getting all my energy out,
i couldn't help but pout, end eventually let out a painful shout-
For basketball had drained my soul, end ever getting up was a doubt,
i thought to myself, "i will walk, nevermore."
Ah, distinctly i remember, it was in the cold November
And every single member of our basketball team,
Wished to let off steam, in other ways than to scream,
As for i, barely moving, i refused to give in to the Sore-
For even great champions had endured this Sore-
I must fight it, for evermore
Once upon a midnight cheery, while I watched the game so clearly,
Over many a faint and curious volume of the crowd's roar,
While I cheered not napping, listening to the rowdies clapping,
As of someone gently snapping, snapping the ball to score.
"Tis some visitor" I muttured, tapping at the stadium door,
Here to win and nothing more.
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak November,
And each seperate cold limber of my body began to shiver,
Eagerly I wished tomorrow, I would not wake with such sorrow,
From my bed I feel the sorrow, sorrow for the last game,
For the rare and talented players, whom the school named Bearcats,
Nameless here for nevermore.
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