billigits

Saragun Verse: The Power of Rabble Finis

i

The billigits flew a loopty loop around Heathcliff

“poor fellow, lucky in land yet poor in love

we know you long for sweetness’ fair lift

follow us to the wiccan meadow and you will soon praise the above”

ii

“‘Tis you wee bastards a-now and again,

Who fritter my feelings on strange dames

Love is nothing except heartbreak and pain;

Far as I care you can feed hell’s flames.”

iii

This was not the reply the billies were obliged to get

So that’s when snow fell on where it was sent

They ushered frozen Heathcliff to Eira’s abode

Some fellas are doomed to do as told

iv

Now we have reached the forever after

May it be marked by progeny and laughter

But as anyone who deals with people knows

We keep the lament and throw out the rose

(We hope that you have enjoyed the Springs first dabble in epic poetry; ‘tis for the rabble and in-the-know-etry)

Saragun Verse: The Power of Rabble Part Five

i

The wee billigits draw energy from an orgone cube

Housed inside an ancient phone booth

Three made jokes about superman

The fourth wee one didn’t understand

ii

“clark kent changed to superman in a phone booth

i cannot believe you are so obtuse”

to which the offended billie put up his little fists

and said “watch me change your face to a bruise”

iii

billigits three and four had seen enough

time is wasted by those who play rough

“have you fellas forgotten we were launched into the sky

by the witch with love in her eye”

iv

The four billigits got on the same page

And decided to find a good guy to sooth Eira’s rage

That’s when they saw hapless Heathcliff strolling across the moor

An idea appealed to the wee four

Saragun Verse: The Power of Rabble Part Two

i

A vainglorious voice called from above

“Tell me boys, what’s so good about love?

It agonizes defames and neutralizes

The best it can do is tell little white lies-us”

ii

The billigits knew the voice and origin

‘t was of the Witch apprentice Eira Borgia

Who’d recently split with a sorry young man

Whom she turned into a Toad named Stan

iii

“our dearest eira your voice like a lyre

there is no one as gentle as you are-uh”

said the third billigit from the left

“and yet your sorrow tis a feather when put against your ire’s heft.”

iv

“Flatter me not words ungainly

For I have called upon you boys plainly.

Cull the wisdom from your orgone booth

And use it to find me a charming rube!”

(end part two)

Saragun Verse: The Power of Rabble Part One

The Learned Introduction

This Week the Springs presents a six part epic poem featuring the billigits as the knights of orgone (for persons unfamiliar with the orange flying fellows about a foot and a half tall, they eschew capital letters and most punctuation marks).

Orgone energy is called a pseudo science that often involves rain making. The great Kate Bush wrote a song about it and starred in a video with the equally great Donald Sutherland about, amazingly, forty years ago.

In the poem our Apprentice Witch to the Great HeXopatha Eira Lysbyrd performs as Eira Borgia (she chose the name for reasons she hasn’t shared). Still a Witch in the poem, Eira (perhaps a bit of a pill) has been let down by love and summons the four knights of orgone (the billigits) to find her a trustworthy soulmate. 

On earth Orgone boxes attract and store Orgone energy fields. In Saragun Springs a telephone booth (pictured above) holds the Orgone of the realm in which, along with occasional rainmaking, is under the short but effective arms of the billigits.

Eira believes the billies and the magic phone booth will find her love or at least get her a date with someone she won’t change into a Toad, as was the case with the guy who jilted her in the poem.

For those of you already confused, please relax and remember that most epic poem writers do not try to explain the content of their masterpieces. Moreover, poetry does not have to make sense. It gives smart people a riddle to solve.

Leila

Now we begin the journey…..

i

Silence your lips and snarls begone

Hear this tale of heroes orgone

Energy booth warriors foretold in myth

Who stand no insult sprayed by lisp

ii

Four billigit soldiers in orgone armor

Flew forth in antique square honor

“i say four dynamic red mars are we

i, myself, and of course you three”

iii

They knew not the cause of the tussle

Except inside every castle is the same cold hustle

But no one lone billigit can be called upon

You get them all and they stand as one

iv

And so here we are at the start of the journey

Under a fawn sky like a Cow of Guernsey

But after a while the question poses

Why are meek billies in war clotheses

(end part one)

Daisy versus the billigits: The Second Battle

(As noted yesterday, I expected a reply to Daisy’s scathing message to the billigits. I wasn’t wrongly wrong–LA)

i

o moving hoof you are so quick to huff

o’er such inconsequential puffy stuff

you and adverbs are a mixed potpourri

that reeks of one little miss me me me

ii

billigits fly high and we think divine

we soar in the straightest of guidelines

to add to the story is silly bold

the realm would be best if you did as told

iii

mothball weasel pinto flounder we four

punctuation and caps we do ignore

adverbs are the weeds of the written word

you abuse them the way flies use a turd

iv

o moving hoof with a spirit so sweet

why must you say hoofally bout your feet

have you gone around the bendly bend

from reality to deep insane pretend

(Well, that should pissilly piss the Goatess off. I expect her reply tomorrow–LA)

send the nobel directly to dame daisy kloverleaf, c/o saragun springs, the multiverse

Dear readerly readers, with the bonus rubaiyat section published  in March I have faithfully translated One hundred quatrains of what was at one time billigits’ gibberish in twenty-fively installents of four.

To equal Omar’s hundred from ninety six, I shall nowly now republish the bonus because everyone in the world, save two, missed it the first time.

There will be more rubaiyats in the future–but the next one will be the Rubaiyat of Dame Daisy Kloverleaf, coming sometime this fall (unlike the wee-winged ones, I like capital letters and punctuationally punctuation marks).

You’re welcome.

Dame Daisy Kloverleaf (soon a Nobel Laureate)

The bonus repeat:

i

willie told the billies a tale deep in gin

about a donkey legend named uncle finn

finn was a humble jackass of no note

but when times got tough he busted the wind

ii

finn flew deep into the darkness of hell

he went in and kicked satans belly bell

yet his legendary tasks had gone unknown

until this magic donkey had to tell

iii

people said finn could not do such bravery

donkeys are useless save in slavery

but after many kicks to the scoffers heads

the people admitted their knavery

iv

spread the story across this land of sin

of the bravest donkey that’s ever been

and may all the knaves say out of respect

you’re a better ass than i uncle finn

the rubaiyat of the billigits: part twenty-four (translated by dame daisy cloverleaf) document

i

the billigits live little lives serene

yet i must stifle an evilmost scream

as they mince frolic and gambol too sweet

i resist punching my hoof through the screen

ii

rhyme schemes and ten beats are doing me in

so many better words fail to win

and those soggy syllables weigh me down

them soft to the tongue like being and been

iii

i will be a magic goat (rose and thorn)

and soar far above life’s punch in the horn

and prance and caper and do whatever

it takes to make it big like capricorn

iv

yet i take solace in my workly work

even though i must machete through the jerks

soonly saint of the adverbs I shall be

long before we see peace on earthly earth

the rubaiyat of the billigits: part twenty-three (translated by dame daisy kloverleaf)

i

people do not respect the deadly dead

they treat us as though we profane the bed

so said a ghost in her pique and fury

giving the moving hoof an achy head

ii

you demand to be both feared and adored

whilst you play siren in the haunted moors

yet you criticize the quick for ire

when you tell them they have the souls of whores

iii

ah but those are words writ by scribely droops

cliched villainy oh so scooby doo

whom if born turkeys would surely be jive

no fresh stories since jesus was new

iv

the moving hoof has heard it all before

exaggerations heaped with scorn

like nails and hair of the dead still grow

their pinocchio-noses add more

the rubaiyat of the billigits: part twenty-two (translated by dame daisy kloverleaf)

i

asses to asses honk to honky

we know willie is a magic donkey

and so devoted to his peggy

that he never rolls in drunk and wonky

ii

flying horse donkey and twin mules make four

in their barnhouse the kids were bornly born

a boy and a girl each magic and winged

yet both are muley about homework and chores

iii

asses to asses honk to honky

you know willie’s a family donkey

his wild oatley oats have all been sown

But he has a home bar to get wonky

iv

the billigits say that gin tells the truth

as long as you mix it with good vermouth

the billigits say that gin tells the truth

as long as you mix it with good vermouth…

(repeat final two lines until insanity sets inly in-daisy)

The rubaiyat of the billigits part twenty-one: translated by dame daisy kloverleaf

i

there are certainly more than seven seas

and far more than just seven sins to squeeze

out of one lifely life in the small world

it makes no sensely sense to me daisy

ii

and we have fools who get everything wrong

sea of greed in whom ignorance is strong

they know not pride nor wrath nor gluttony

the baltic is just water in a bong

iii

how was it so much finer yesterday

when nobody could count to eightly eight

and sins and seas were all the samely same

before the beauty of adverbs brought grace

iv

the moving hoof shall beat much morely more

and whence it stomps means it is boredly bored

with sinners and sailors and nincompoops

it shall be named the hoof that roarly roared