poetry

Saragun Fable Verse: The Strange Case of Nikky Smonnicks

i

Nikky Smonnicks is a ghost without a host

No one died to make him

Some say not so, they say he lived and he was a cabin boy from the Barbary Coast

But that turned to be a corsair lie told to stake him

To the mirthless earth of self made men

So say they who long to be the flesh Nikky had forsaken

ii

Any ghost can be a special spirit

Human beings seldom get near it

Ghosts are burned clean at life’s end

The quick must unshackle from liens and wills and dishonest trusts before they are completely all in given

iii

Nikky Smonnicks it seems never lived nor was a stillborn child fitted with a shell common in both heaven and hell

He began as a ghost completing a journey never begun

How can this be, someone like he, a song finished yet neither written nor sung?

It matters not in the end even non-events can be considered done

iii

So welcome to the afterlife without a before, the angels and demons hope you are fun

You are an unlikely hair on the head of time

A Zombie in reverse

A long running show never rehearsed

And the reason why The Book of the Dead

is off by one

The Amoral: One needn’t live to be successfully dead

Saragun Verse: Pope of Alpha Centuari

i

How far are you willing to fly

To find a vicar to shine your mind

What insult will you bear

In grace for a ten percent share

ii

Who’s gonna to serve your mass

Now

That you’ve departed the blue ball of

Vow

Indulge your sins and pledge your soul

To me

The Pope of Alpha Centauri

iii

The universe is an endless second chance

But everywhere it is still a dimebag a dance

Open up and for a tiny fee

You can be an angel wild and free

Courtesy of me

The Pope of Alpha Centauri

iv

Pain is the same inside every skin

And the losses still out number wins

Take four years at the speed of light

Everyone in hell loves the night

Endless and without memory

The Pope of Alpha Centauri

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 Four

i

“Make it rain to drown the pain”

The junior Witch said again and again

The billigits are churlishly mellow

They whisper what you want to bellow

ii

“madam fair yet so au contraire how will you employ us

to find you a lad not a cad beyond the surface

but you can make it rain to fill every cracked surface

we wonder are you seeking love or something to plug the orafice”

iii

Eira was enraged by the little orange knights’ audacity

She placed the four billies into a catapult

“Across the moors with you tiny bores

You should know the score by the time you hit Cincinnati”

iv

But Eira had forgotten that billigits fly

And upon reaching the highest sky

They orgone rayed the clouds

And the rains came hard and proud

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)

For Paranoid Job Seekers by Dale Williams Barrigar

Hey don’t sweat it so much, something will

Appear when you least expect it to so stay

Real drunk on water like Rodin’s Balzac

Statue if that’s what it takes from you.

Walk on land, contemplate water, and

If you end up on the beach scavenging

For sardine tins, you will have joined the

First Christians.

They who were played for dead

Just like you and me.

– Two on the beach in Rogers Park, Chicago, one speaking, 2013

Saragun Verse: Andy And Why

i

Andy has never been pampered

Andy has never been indoors

Andy is a ten pounds of action

Touch him and you’ll get yours

ii

Andy is beautiful and wild

Andy has Cat class and style

Andy has been around since Ramses

His gray eyes doth damn thees

iii

Andy has the libido of a Rabbit

Andy makes more out of habit

Andy doesn’t go much for family

He’a case of wham bam thankew mambly

iv

The sands of years will fill betwixt and between

And scrub away the legends of kings and queens

But Andy will keep a rollin through the nights

He is the answer to the question “And why?”

Saragun Springs Verse: I Am Big Ed

(Note-Big Ed came to me with an idea that was a good one because I had none for this particular day. In the Springs the arrival of any sort of idea is gold. So, with apologies to Neil Diamond, here is the realm’s number one singing Woodpecker, Big Ed –LA)

Did you ever read about a Frog

Who dreamed about being king

So the story goes

But since I am naturally illiterate

Printed stories are lost on me

Dont’cha you know

I am Big Ed

I can fly

I can beat the hell out of shit

With my beak that’s why

I am Big Ed

The Northern Flicker dude

And everyone will care

Even that chair, with the attitude

Saragun Verse: For Dee Boids

Not all Birds must be real to fly

But don’t you dare try to fry the fried

Your friends will think you horizontal

By those talon scars on your tonsils

‘tis a spat as old as rhyme

one must be late to tell the time

he says why must we early chase the worm

if it were french toast maybe I’d learn

My mother was right when I was back in the nest

She said your stripes were simply a jest

nothing earns its keep whilst abed

You’ll be fodder for Cats unless you move ahead

I am too hot to be smart my gurlie tells me

But I have the beak to make history

So I when I mistake my reflection for another

Remember I, by song, might be both your lover and your brother

Henny Penny ain’t got shit on Viv the Wick

That brooder house floozy is a silly twit

Tomorrow I will be queen of the roost

After she’s served with corn and the awful truth

(The birds of Saragun Springs now bow)