Daisy Kloverleaf

Saragun Civil War Poems: Day Two

Day Two of the Saragun Pygmy Goat v. Lamb Civil Poem Smackdown (please note, each poem contains quatrains but the number of quatrains varies. Moreover, some may question why one Goat will take on an entire species. Good question. )

Leila

“Woolly Mam-Mouth” by Dame Daisy

i

There was once a useless goofball named Joe

Who fell in deep love with a Doely Doe

Mauve was a Deer three times his sizely size

And he a Lamb quite dumb and googly eyed

ii

Joe did not know Mauve was a Deerly Deer

He thought she was a Lamb all sheerly sheared

No other Lamb could steer Joe to the truth

For the species has the IQ of vermouth

“Goats Float” by the Lambs

i

There is a Pygmy Goatess named Daisy

Her mind is cluttered and oh so lazy

She goes around besmirching her betters

And says Lambs cannot match her in letters

ii

Within the cluster of adverbs she slings

Fallacies as mean as Bumble Bee stings

Daisy continues to vex our highness

Who will rise and whip Goatly behindness

Saragun Verse: Civil War for August

The Poems of the Saragun Civil War by Dame Daisy and Various Lambs

Introduction

The Poems of the Saragun Civil War between Goats and Lambs are presented this week. Everyday we will feature a poem by the Pygmy Goatess Dame Daisy Kloverleaf that she sent the Lambs of the Lambystan community in Saragun Springs and the reply poem from the Lambs, ostensibly written by their leader, but it appears that it was a team effort. This was perhaps the only Civil War in history that never escalated to violence. To paraphrase Sandberg, “We held a war but everyone went to lunch.” But, to quoth Daisy. “It was hotly hot by word.”

Leila

The First Pair of War Poems

“Haggisly” by Dame Daisy Kloverleaf

i

Little Lambs O little Lambs, thou annoy

Goatly measures of pride with silly ploys

It is so clear that you don’t give a damb

About becoming humble Ewes and Rams

ii

The cold hearted dastardly deedly deeds

That invade the garden of my sweet ease

Will not by I be soonly forgotten

Each of you is an apple quite rotten

iii

By the hot beat of my hooves I proclaim

This meadow will never be samely same

Until you recant calling me sour feta

Soonerly soon than laterly latuh

“Our Reply” by Shaytan Shotten, Viceroy of Lambystan

i

O dope Goatess who’s hardly the mostest

Everything you say does so offend us

The name of your “pomely” poem perchance

Infuriates the demons of Sheep dance

ii

I am spelling as slowly as I can

We know your mind is like a can of spam

You hold onto the stupid stuff you think

Forcing the best of us to smell the stink

iii

By ruminancy powers we declare

You will surrender your foul underwear

After we win the day on the field

Mighty Lambystan shall never yield!

Afterword

Well, there you have the flavor of the struggle.

L.A.

Ode To Forage by The Moving Hoof

*

You ask why I love alfalfa and hay,

Apples, celery, barley and salt lick;

Peas, carrots and the darling legumes of May

But ne’er nasty corn dogs on a stick

*

I’ve heard all the rumors about my breed

We eat tin cans and other vile stuff

Let me set you straight our food is from seed

As you are what you eat, talking cheese puff

*

Bean sprouts singly sing a beckoning song

But not for humans who store them dumbly

We Goats wonder how you get them so wrong

E coli from shoots? the heart beats glumly

*

My fey sonnet began with a question

The answer is natural selection

The Continuing Rubaiyat of Saragun Springs by The Moving Hoof (translated by Leila Allison)

(Note–Daisy has acquired a Penname. As you have guessed it is “The Moving Hoof.” She is now, as she just informed me, Dame Daisy Cloverleaf-Kloverleaf, the Goatess of GOAT and The Moving Hoof. A gallon of vodka weighs more than The Moving Hoof yet it contains only half as many delusions–LA)

i

Buckfast Geeply Geep is my half brother

Same Goat father, a Sheeply Sheep mother

You can usually find him at the track

Wagering hobnobs on a good mudder

ii

Hobknobs are the coin of the multiverse

They have value everywhere but earth

Whereas the billions of Musty Musk

Wouldn’t rate a spoonful of Saragun dirt

iii

Buckfast loves to bet on the Peonies

Racing flowers raised by Magic Donkeys

On quick moving blooms they rush gate to gate

Encouraged by sweet Butterfly jockeys

iv

Being a Geep is a million to few

Ram and Nanny or Billy and Ewely Ewe

Not Bob and Carol nor Ted and Alice

Will land their offspring at the petting zoo

The Continuing Rubaiyat of Saragun Springs by The Moving Hoof (translated by Leila)

i

When Big Ed the Woodpecker is glum

He beats the chimney cap like a drum

Our boy suffers from small bird syndrome

He longs to be King of the scrumly scrum

ii

Big Ed envies the mighty Eagles

They don’t put up with Seagulls

It’s Bang! Zoom! Straight to the Moon!

For the selfish Me-Gulls

iii

Big Ed is in love deep and fancy

A whippoorwill has got him romancy

Her name is McGill, she calls herself Lil

But everyone knows her as Nancy

iv

The Moving Hoof has heard from Rocky Raccoon

He has promised lawyers, many and soon

She laughs and scoffly scoffs as she tells him

He may go and suck by the banks of his own saloon

The Continuing Rubaiyat of Saragun Springs by Dame Daisy Kloverleaf (translated by Leila)

(image has nothing to do with the post–just fond of the subject)

i

My brother Fenwick is a bit hazy

He says weed in the morning keeps him lazy

Stonily stoned from Pongrise to Pongset

Fenwick is a beatnik, not a Daisy

ii

With our half brother Buckfast he goes round

To poetry slams and other jazzy grounds

Where work is the most discouraging word

You can hear hooves clapping out happy sounds

iii

And you will see them at the trackly track

Betting on Peonies who have the knack

Racing flowers of incredible high skill

With sweet Butterfly jockeys on their backs

iv

Fi-did-lee Fenwick leads an actors’ life

And Buckfast is as keen to avoid strife

Goat and Geep worshiping Saints Cheech and Chong

Break up this rhyme scheme when they pass the bong

The Rubaiyat of Saragun Springs: Part Three by Dame Daisy Kloverleaf, Translated by Leila Allison

(Mr. Andy Hisster essays the role of “Tawny Joad”)

i

Peggy the Flying Horse took to the clouds

And sought one where kin are not allowed

She loved her Willie and muley mule twins

But her delicate moods were trending down

ii

Married to a donkey mother of two

She wanted quiet like a grift wants fools

To sell swamp clouds to, like that Tawny Joad

The Guru Tabby and all around tool

Iii

Why a Tabby was way up in the air

Is a question the Hoof finds fairly fair

Why the hell not she retortly retorts

You find tools in high places mon frere

iv

Peggy zipped past Tabby Joad and said hi

Odd seeing a nine-liver in the sky

Others would fall with such sins on their souls

Yet Cats excel at phony alibis

The Rubaiyat of Saragun Springs: Part Two by Dame Daisy Kloverleaf, Translated by Leila Allison

i

Tawny Joad “advises” the billigits

A guru Tabby Cat endowed with wit

Tawny is also a sociopath

As are all Cats when you get down to it

ii

Money is the cause of all discontent

Tawny says condenming every cent

Only guru Tabbys should havely have it

It guarantees it will be wisely spent

iii

On meowchat websites and cracknip dens

Asked the Moving Hoof’s moving penly pen

The path to enlightenment takes many turns

Replied the Tabby son of spendy zen

iv

A fool and what I like are soon parted

I do not deny nor feel down hearted

For those I’ve relieved of treasurely treasure

Life is about Cats and the outsmarted

(To any offended Cats: Getly get over it.)

The Rubaiyat of Saragun Springs: Part One by Dame Daisy Kloverleaf translated by Leila Allison

(Author’s note: The idea of a set schedule is a flexible one in Saragun Springs.  Thus later often comes early and early comes later. And although Dame Daisy announcingly announced a fall debut for her rubaiyat,  she has provided a three day sample, which we will run this week–Leila)

i

Into the realm was born Buckfast the Geep

His finer half Goatly the rest mere Sheep*

Snipes and Jackalopes some say are real

As Bucky Geep who drinks like an Eel

ii

Bucky Geep is a football hooligan

His gets in rows just like a fooligan

Son of a Billy and a Ewely Ewe

Saturdays spent hooves deep in beer and spew

iii

The billigits tried to tame the rascal

Bucky you will not live in a castle

Or win a Geeply Geepette, a saint

If you continue to don war paint

iv

Buckfast listened to the billies’ patter

But to our boy it seemed too dear a matter

To give over the scrum and live beside

A ruminant Nanny with herded eyes

(*It is important to remember that Daisy is a Goat. All Sheep complaints should be addressed to Miss Kloverleaf–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