Saturday, November 24, 2007

Norbert the Ridge-Backed Dragon (Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, Johnny Marks)

Here's a silly little ditty about Hagrid's pet dragon Norbert to the tune of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.

Norbert the Ridge-Backed Dragon

You know Chinese and Swedish and Welsh ones are scary.
Horntail from Hungary tried to kill Harry.
But do you recall
The most fearsome dragon of all?

Norbert the ridge-backed dragon
Had a fire-breathing nose.
When the gamekeeper hatched him,
He ignited Hagrid's clothes.

All of the burns and scratches
Added up, and Hagrid knew
He had to banish Norbert,
Send him to a dragon zoo.

Then one balmy summer's eve,
Charlie Weasley said,
"Norbert's fine, and by the way,
It's Norberta, with an 'a'."

Hagrid was most astonished,
Crying in perplexity,
"Norbert the ridge-backed dragon,
How'd I miss that you're a she?"

Tuesday, September 4, 2007

Weatherby (Let It Be, Paul McCartney)

Poor Percy, working so hard for Mr. Crouch in Goblet of Fire, and his boss can't even get his name right. Here's a little parody to the tune of Let It Be.

Weatherby

When the tournament is too much trouble and I lack the energy,
I call my assistant, Weatherby.
And when I see the Dark Mark and am shamed before the Ministry,
I call my assistant, Weatherby.

Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby.
Jolly good assistant, Weatherby.

And when I've been outsmarted by the boy who's out to ruin me,
I'll make great demands of Weatherby.
I fear that someone's started to suspect I helped my son to flee.
I'll make great demands of Weatherby.

Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby.
Yes, I'll make great demands of Weatherby.
Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby.
Jolly good assistant, Weatherby.

Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby.
Jolly good assistant, Weatherby.

Bartemius is rowdy, as disgraceful as a boy can be.
I would rather borrow Weatherby,
A young man to be proud of. Oh, why couldn't he belong to me?
Jolly good assistant, Weatherby.

Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby.
Oh, I'll make great demands of Weatherby.
Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby, Weatherby.
Jolly good assistant, Weatherby.


Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Dumbledore (El Shaddai, Michael Card)

Harry has suffered a lot of losses throughout the books. Here, to the tune of Michael Card's El Shaddai, he reflects on Dumbledore's death.

Dumbledore

Dumbledore, Dumbledore,
What did you drink poison for?
Did you know back in that cave
You were headed for the grave?
Dumbledore, Dumbledore,
I am shaken to the core.
I can't stay here anymore,
Dumbledore.

I'm still learning who I am.
I doubt I'll pass this last exam,
For without your guiding hand,
I can't hope to understand
That perplexing prophecy
Or where those Horcruxes could be.
Oh, how do I fulfill my destiny?

Dumbledore, Dumbledore,
What did you drink poison for?
Did you know back in that cave
You were headed for the grave?
Dumbledore, Dumbledore,
I am shaken to the core.
I can't stay here anymore,
Dumbledore.

Though I'm fearful, it is clear
That I have to persevere,
Since I can't help but agree
That this task belongs to me.
You were the wisest of all men;
Won't you counsel me again?
When I face the great unknown,
Must I do it on my own?

Dumbledore, Dumbledore,
What did you drink poison for?
Did you know back in that cave
You were headed for the grave?
Dumbledore, Dumbledore,
I am shaken to the core.
I can't stay here anymore,
Dumbledore.


Monday, August 27, 2007

She's Got a Whole World in Her Head (He's Got the Whole World in His Hands, Traditional)

Here's a little tribute to J. K. Rowling to the tune of He's Got the Whole World in His Hands.

She's Got a Whole World in Her Head

She's got a whole world in her head,
She's got a whole wide world in her head,
She's got a whole world in her head.
She's got a whole world in her head.

She's got the wizards and the witches in her head,
She's got the Muggles and the house-elves in her head,
She's got the centaurs and the giants in her head.
She's got a whole world in her head.

She's got Hermione and Harry in her head,
She's got Minerva and Albus in her head,
She's got Dolores and Draco in her head.
She's got a whole world in her head.

She's got the Ministry of Magic in her head,
She's got the sleepy town of Hogsmeade in her head,
She's got the hallowed halls of Hogwarts in her head.
She's got a whole world in her head.

She's got foamy butterbeer in her head,
She's got sorcerers that scare in her head,
She's got books beyond compare in her head.
She's got a whole world in her head.

She's got a whole world in her head,
She's got a whole wide world in her head,
She's got a whole world in her head.
She's got a whole world in her head.

Thursday, August 23, 2007

Burning Rage (Turn the Page, Bob Seger)

Harry's got an awful lot on his mind in Deathly Hallows. Here's a reflection by him to the tune of Bob Seger's Turn the Page.

Burning Rage

It's a long and lonesome journey lacking room and board,
And I listen for the not-so-distant murmurs of discord
As I think about my mission, to at last bring down that evil lord.
Though I'm glad to have some company, I sometimes think the glue
That has bound us three together may grow weak as we pursue
Heinous Horcruxes in hiding. It's a taxing thing to do.

Hey, that vile man's in my head again,
That vile man four times my age.
Voldemort's searin' my scar again,
Voldemort's burning rage...

Well, in retrospect, Ron didn't want this unwieldy load.
Now I realize despondently the bitter seeds I sowed
When I let him and Hermione come follow me upon this road.
When he left, he didn't walk; Ron just up and ran,
And he Disapparated like that always was his plan.
Oh, I just can't help but wonder, is he a splinching fan?

That vile man's in my head again,
That vile man four times my age.
Voldemort's searin' my scar again,
Voldemort's burning rage...

Xeno's tricks were not right, but at least we got away.
I'm still glad we went, 'cause he enlightened me today.
I'll preserve my feeble body with the Hallows. Where are they?
Those two don't believe me, think I'm dizzy in the head.
Now distraction comes to camp, and I am chortling at Fred.
The broadcast ends, and I forget whose name must not be said.

Now that vile man's in my head again,
That vile man four times my age.
Voldemort's searin' my scar again,
Voldemort's burning rage...

Oh, that vile man's in my head again,
That vile man four times my age.
Voldemort's searin' my scar again,
Voldemort, Voldemort...


Monday, August 20, 2007

G-I-M-L-I (Oscar Meyer Bologna Song)

Here is one of the shortest parodies I have written, to the tune of the Oscar Mayer bologna song. I was on a car trip and trying to take my mind off of motion sickness. My brother warned me against such a venture; I ignored him for this little post-Rivendell rant by Legolas. At least it's over in the blink of an eye...

G-I-M-L-I

This companion has a first name.
It's G-I-M-L-I.
This companion has no second name;
He's just that sort of guy.
Our Fellowship would be just great
If we could knock nine down to eight,
'Cuz bearded Gimli has a way
Of I-R-K-ing me all day.


Friday, August 17, 2007

I'll Have to Say I Love You With a Snog (I'll Have to Say I Love You in a Song, Jim Croce)

It's tough to be in love with Harry Potter when Voldemort's after him. Here's a little invitation by Ginny on the occasion of Harry's 17th birthday to the tune of I'll Have to Say I Love You in a Song.

I'll Have to Say I Love You With a Snog

Well, I feared my heart would break
When you refused to date me.
Although you did it for my sake,
It's more than I can stand.

Since you came, my heart's been leaping
Just like a chocolate frog,
So I'll have to say I love you with a snog.

Oh, I knew things had to change;
Voldemort draws near you,
But today is your special day,
So come and take my hand.

Since you came, my heart's been leaping
Just like a chocolate frog,
So I'll have to say I love you with a snog.

Soon you'll face your final fight
And you'll brave Dementors' fog,
So I'll have to say I love you with a snog.

Yeah, I feared my heart would break
When you refused to date me.
Now you're on the verge of going away;
It's more than I can stand.

Since you came, my heart's been leaping
Just like a chocolate frog,
So I'll have to say I love you with a snog.


Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Like Forrest (Feather Theme, Alan Silvestri)

One of my very favorite pieces of cinematic music is Alan Silvestri's whimsical opening feather theme from Forrest Gump. Here's my attempt to put words to it.

Like Forrest

Stifle your surprise
When you realize
That it would be wise
To look through his eyes...

Forrest is filled with gentle wisdom
Even though he's a fool.
Pride in his gaze, he watches his son
Boarding the bus to school.
Since he was born, he's always sworn to
Follow the Golden Rule.
What ecstasy to be
Like Forrest!

He's a simple man,
But he ran

Into the people who changed the course of hist'ry.
Catalyst unaware,
Forrest remains enmeshed in myst'ry
Under his crew-cut hair.
Sweetest of men, he showered Jenny
With his abundant care.
What an ideal to feel
Like Forrest!

Don't berate Forrest Gump;
Emulate Forrest Gump.

Though he has lived through tragic trauma -
Losing his two best friends,
Witnessing cancer take his mama -
He doesn't break; he bends.
Caught in the race of life, he's graceful,
Savors the time he spends.
What I would give to live
Like Forrest!

Wish I could see like Forrest Gump.
Wish I could be like Forrest Gump.

Saturday, August 11, 2007

Hogwarts Bound (Homeward Bound, Paul Simon)

Hogwarts was an integral part of the first six books, so it was strange to read through Deathly Hallows and not get to school until the end. It was strange for Ron and Harry too. Here, to the tune of Simon and Garfunkel's Homeward Bound, is a song in which the two of them, realizing the rest of their class is on the way to school, wish that they were headed to Hogwarts...

Hogwarts Bound

Ron: I'm sittin' here in Padfoot's kitchen
Plotting locket theft and body-switchin'.
Harry: I am not a Horcrux fan.
I've seen how they affect a man.
Ron: I'd rather have a foolproof plan,
But if we can't do it, no one can.

Ron and Harry: Hogwarts bound,
I wish I was
Hogwarts bound.
Ron: School, with the Stinksap reekin'.
School, with the Mandrakes shriekin'.
Harry: School, where I'm swiftly Seekin'.
Feels like home to me.

Harry: After nights of creepy dreams,
I wake to hear Walburga's screams.
Ron: The elf's improved dramatically;
He's pleasant and he makes us tea.
Harry: I've got my friends for company,
But on the whole, I'd rather be

Ron and Harry: Hogwarts bound,
I wish I was
Hogwarts bound.
Ron: School, with the Stinksap reekin'.
School, with the Mandrakes shriekin'.
Harry: School, where I'm swiftly Seekin'.
Feels like home to me.

Ron: I might not board that train again.
It's such a shame how things end.
Harry: But I must press on doggedly
And fight for our democracy
While Death Eaters chase after me.
Ron: I hate that name that starts with "V"!

Ron and Harry: Hogwarts bound,
I wish I was
Hogwarts bound.
Ron: School, with the Stinksap reekin'.
School, with the Mandrakes shriekin'.
Harry: School, where I'm swiftly Seekin'.
Feels like home to me.
Feels like home to me.


Wednesday, June 13, 2007

O in Charms (Open Arms, Steve Perry / Jonathan Cain)

Here's a silly little ditty I wrote to the tune of Journey's Open Arms in which Hermione tries to get Ron to do his own schoolwork. I suppose Potions and Transfiguration give Ron more headaches than Charms, but those don't quite have the same ring to them...

O in Charms

Sitting beside you,
Watching you work,
I know that you could do fine.
Why should I whisper
Into your ear?
This is your problem, not mine.
I want our professor
To know that you're smart;
It might be nice if you tried.

He could be giving you
An O in Charms.
I take great pride
In getting good grades,
So if you earn
An O in Charms,
Ron, it won't be
'Cause you copied from me.
O in Charms.

Working without me,
Working alone...
It would be good for your soul.
What if I told you
Without me here
You could accomplish your goal?
You owe it to Flitwick.
Decrease my distaste.
Cheating is a waste.

He could be giving you
An O in Charms.
I take great pride
In getting good grades,
So if you earn
An O in Charms,
Ron, it won't be
'Cause you copied from me.
O in Charms.


Thursday, May 10, 2007

Bilbo and the Eagles

I've been going through some of my files, and I came across half a dozen Tolkien-related poems that I never posted during my rush of Middle-earth poetry a year and a half ago. I guess I left them out because I don't like them as much as the others, but they're halfway-decent, so I might as well complete my little collection online, and then maybe I can get around to writing some new ones.

One problem with this one is that I can't seem to confirm whether the Lord of the Eagles in The Hobbit is, in fact, Gwaihir. I thought he was, but now I'm having doubts... Ah, well. Anyway, here's Bilbo in flight, not something he's particularly thrilled about, and yet a little part of him is...

Bilbo and the Eagles

Jump for joy or quake in fear?
Bilbo can’t decide
How to greet the great Gwaihir.
Is he on their side?

Stern but still not quite unkind,
He lets out a cry.
Swiftly, as if of one mind,
His subjects fill the sky.

Bilbo shudders, stunned and shaken,
When a mighty eagle
Grabs him like a piece of bacon.
How can this be legal?

What a rush of vertigo!
Bilbo writhes around.
He does not care where they go –
As long as it’s the ground.

After what seems like hours,
All the eagles land.
He marvels at their power,
Drawn from wings, not hands.

Bilbo bows in homage to
Lord Gwaihir’s dominion.
Though terror’s in his talons, true
Beauty’s in his pinions.

He’s relieved to feel the earth
Underneath his feet.
But this ride’s been a rebirth.
The difference is discreet.

No one but the wizard sees
He’s changed with the descent.
Awakened by the journey, he’s
Ready for adventure.

A Fading Queen

This is one of my oldest Lord of the Rings poems, barring some really crummy ones I wrote in middle and high school. I probably wrote it about five years ago. I guess Galadriel isn't really a queen technically, but I've always thought of her as one. The Elves have a rather tough time of it in Lord of the Rings, and Galadriel is an especially tragic case...

A Fading Queen

In Lorien a maiden fair
Was born to reign as queen.
The sunlight shimmered in her hair
Through mallorn treetops green.

Aerendil’s haunting star of light,
Reflected in her eyes,
Betrayed a cruel heart-wrenching plight
That she could not disguise.

Her ancient wisdom served to tell
Of sorrows yet to come
But could not show Galadriel
A way to save her home.

Then opportunity arose
For her to take her place
As ruler greater than her foes...
But she declined with grace.

Her pristine spirit’s Elven glow
Would not be extinguished.
With dignity she’d fading go,
Wistful, but distinguished.

In misty lands across the sea –
Beyond the west of West –
Her enchanted soul wanders free
In soft slumberless rest.

A Prejudiced Protest

Here's a little rant I wrote in the voice of grumbly Gimli. He certainly wasn't too keen on spending much time with Legolas when the Fellowship was formed. If only he knew...

A Prejudiced Protest

I don’t want to go questin’
With any ruddy Elf
From the high and mighty West.
I would rather go myself.

I would rather battle Sauron
With my axe and my bare hands
Than accompany this moron
Across strange and barren lands.

I won’t travel any distance
With this pointy-eared buffoon.
I will utter my resistance
Till the light of Durin’s moon.

He’s self-satisfied and prissy.
Gandalf thinks he’s grand, I know,
But I bet that he’s a sissy
And he’s never used that bow.

He’s ethereal and pretty
With his lustrous golden hair;
Our adventure will be gritty,
And he’s surely unprepared.

I can almost hear him whining
In his silly silken style.
He’ll be melancholy, pining
For his trees mile after mile.

I’m a noble son of Gloin.
I resent being subjected
To his company. I’m goin’,
But I’m angry and dejected.

If I can, I will avoid him,
Difficult as that may be;
If I find I have annoyed him,
That will be just fine with me.

I will put up with this Greenleaf,
But don’t blame me if I fail.
He will be giving me more grief
Than a Dark Lord grim and pale.

If I manage not to kill him
By the time this journey ends,
I will be impressed but still
Know we never can be friends.

Good Morning

Here is another poem about Bilbo Baggins, this one focusing on his fateful meeting with Gandalf in the first few pages of The Hobbit.

Good Morning

“Good morning!” Bilbo greeted
The wizard at his door.
Internally, he bleated,
“What is it he’s here for?”

His figure was imposing,
As was his gnarled pole.
What right did he have nosing
Around his hobbit hole?

As Bilbo’s stomach rumbled –
For second breakfast waited –
He did not dare to grumble
But stood there with breath bated.

“Adventure” was the sole word
Escaping Gandalf’s lips
That Bilbo actually heard.
His hands went to his hips.

“Nasty things,” he objected.
“They make you late for dinner.”
“Tomorrow,” directed
Gandalf, “We will begin.”

He left poor Bilbo in dismay.
The hobbit thought, “How could
I be foolish enough to say
This morning would be good?”

The Innkeeper

I always really liked Butterburr and was a bit bummed when the whole incident with the message from Gandalf that he failed to deliver was cut out of the movie. He's a great character. Hm, and his name is suspiciously similar to butterbeer, my favorite fictional beverage...

The Innkeeper

Is Barliman a snarly man?
Oh, no. Hardly ever.
With ready smile and pleasant style,
He’s kindly, if not clever.

With warmth and cheer, he serves up beer
That travelers admire.
His cozy restaurant’s the best
On this side of the Shire.

The rousing tales, good food and ales
That fill the Prancing Pony
Spark gratitude. His attitude
Is grand and never phony.

Running this inn has worn him thin
(In mind, that is, not body).
It’s hard to claim that he’s to blame
If his memory’s shoddy.

And if he must watch with distrust
The dark, forbidding Ranger,
It’s no surprise. Those hooded eyes
Are flecked with hints of danger.

His heart is pure, but Butterburr’s
Rosy cheeks are redder
Than ever now. He can’t see how
He could forget that letter.

It’s understood this man is good;
He may be spared his gizzard.
But still he quakes, for his mistake
Has quite upset a wizard.

In his defense, the consequence
Of Barliman’s omission
Was not too grim. It’s not on him
If Frodo fails his mission.

He is, of course, filled with remorse.
As tears roll down his face,
Gandalf just sighs, “All right, don’t cry.
Your heart’s in the right place.”

A Dragon's Dreams

Here's a rather sad little ode to Smaug, the fearsome dragon in The Hobbit. He's certainly not a nice creature, but there are times during his conversation with Bilbo when I can't help but feel a bit sympathetic toward him...

A Dragon’s Dreams

Mighty Smaug, treasure hog,
Loiters in his cave.
All alone on his throne,
He need not be brave.

He need not give a thought
To the world of men,
But if gold makes them bold,
He’ll give chase again.

He will show that he’s no
Obsolete reptile.
His foul breath will bring death.
They will call him vile.

They’ll declare him unfair,
Repugnant and wrong.
“Villainous!” they will fuss,
Hating him in song.

He will spread gloom and dread
With his midnight raids
Twice a year, so the fear
Never fully fades.


Smaug’s dream stops. His tail flops.
With a startled snore,
He is bent toward a scent
He’s not smelled before.

He can’t see what must be.
Soon he will descend
Upon Dale, where he’ll fail
And his dreams will end.

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Silly Toad (Take Me Home Country Roads, John Denver / Bill Danoff / Taffy Nivert)

Here is a parody... that isn't about LOST! Yes, I'm breaking out of my rut with a little Harry Potter. To the tune of John Denver's Take Me Home Country Roads, it focuses on Hermione's search for Neville's toad, Trevor, on the way to Hogwarts in Sorcerer's Stone. It's nice, I think, that these two were evidently each other's first friends at the school. They're both outcasts of sorts, on opposite ends of the spectrum; Hermione's a brilliant young witch born to Muggles, while Neville comes from a well-respected wizarding family but boasts very little magical ability, at least in the beginning. It's fortunate they found each other. Incidentally, writing this on an empty stomach and thinking about all those goodies from the Hogwarts Express refreshment cart has set my tummy rumbling...

Silly Toad

Where is Trevor? He was in our
Train compartment when we ate our dinner.
I must scold. Where could that scoundrel be?
Neville, you can count on lots of help from me.

Silly toad, why'd you roam?
Just obey Neville Longbottom's wishes.
Spare him trauma.
Why'd you roam, silly toad?

Neville's memory tends to flounder.
He'll get aid from this young Muggle daughter.
If he trusts me, if he's not too shy,
I am sure we'll soon find that small, slimy guy.

Silly toad, why'd you roam?
Just obey Neville Longbottom's wishes.
Spare him trauma.
Why'd you roam, silly toad?

We have no choice. If we search for him and call him,
Then maybe he'll be kind and let a croak guide our way.
Looking for a toad from floor to ceiling
Isn't how I planned to spend my day,
Spend my day...

Silly toad, why'd you roam?
Just obey Neville Longbottom's wishes.
Spare him trauma.
Why'd you roam, silly toad?

Silly toad, why'd you roam?
Just obey Neville Longbottom's wishes.
Spare him trauma.
Why'd you roam, silly toad?

Why'd you roam, silly toad?
Why'd you roam, silly toad?


Wednesday, April 4, 2007

Ugly Betty Waltz (America, Paul Simon)

One of my favorite shows this year has been Ugly Betty, the story of a sweet, spunky young woman who makes it in the vicious world of fashion magazines despite her very plain looks. America Ferrera creates a character ordinary girls can identify with and conveys the positive message that inner beauty is what's most important. I've missed a few episodes lately, but I'm hoping I can catch up before the season ends. This is one show I'll be glad to see again in the fall. Here's a tribute to Betty to the tune of Simon and Garfunkel's America.

Ugly Betty Waltz

Let us discover the strength of a woman who's tethered,
Bound to a face that's immediately tagged,
In a haughty word, calamitous. Do haters realize
That we've come to look up to America?

Betty is frumpy, with ponchos and glasses, but with her,
Mode is a mag that can brag a lot now.
Splits her pay four ways, with nephew and sis and pa.
We all look up to America.

Laughing in her face
As she grins through her braces,
Marc won't admit that she has the most fabulous eyes.
Catty Amanda is bummed cuz she's working for Dan, her love.

We watch with interest. Though her predicament's painful,
Betty's the person who powers the show.
While her colleagues turn greener, she improves the magazine.
What a harvest her bold suggestions yield!

Betty's young boss has said that he wouldn't be keeping
His job if his aide wasn't right by his side.
Somehow the things that she does just turn out right.
We've come to look up to America.
We all look up to America.
We all look up to America.


That Little Car (This Old Guitar, John Denver)

I adore Herbie, that little VW with the 53 on the side who starred in several triumphantly corny movies. Not such a big fan of Jim Douglas, his arrogant owner. Here, with a little help from John Denver's This Old Guitar, I imagine him years into the future, reflecting upon the car that he gave up. He probably needn't feel too despondent, though; he may not be able to hang onto a woman for long, but somehow Herbie always seems to wind up back in his hands...

That Little Car

That little car helped me to win a trophy.
He showed me that I was a selfish guy.
He got me through the town in record time,
Beep-beeping all the way.
Who would have thought that Tennessee was right?
Oh, I was such a fool, for Tennessee was right.

That little car gave me a lovely lady,
Although her boss became my enemy.
I can't remember whether
He made us drift apart;
I'm guessing you can chalk that up to me.
What a bummer it was putting up with me.

That little car made me start really living.
Maybe I've backslid a time or two,
But every time I start to whine,
I recall that car with pride.
Herb, you were a driver's dream come true.
You were a driver's dream come true.
Yes, you were, you know,
You were a driver's dream come true.


Monday, April 2, 2007

Hunny in the Jar (Gilgarra Mountain, Traditional)

I recently listened to Gilgarra Mountain, Peter Yarrow's version of the Irish folk song Whiskey in the Jar, and the more I thought about it, the more I couldn't resist giving the beleaguered Rabbit a wistful narrative of his own. And since the very American Peter did it, Rabbit, too, has to adopt a bit of a brogue for this one. Enjoy!

Hunny in the Jar

As I was a-makin' meself breakfast one mornin',
I spotted Pooh Bear; he had come callin' with no warnin'.
First I drew the curtains; I hoped I could deceive him,
But the knock on me door betrayed to me he wasn't leavin'.

Oh, I won't get very far,
For Pooh is bound to know,
Yes, Pooh is bound to know
There's hunny in the jar.

He counted on me bein' a benevolent old bunny;
I grabbed me door to lock it and protect me precious hunny.
"There's no one home," I called in a voice all light and breezy,
For I figured foolin' Bears of Little Brain would be so easy.

Oh, I won't get very far,
For Pooh is bound to know,
Yes, Pooh is bound to know
There's hunny in the jar.

I stood there in me kitchen, afraid of what was comin'.
That bear was undeterred, seekin' smackerels of somethin',
And so he grasped the doorknob. Oh, I wish I would have fought 'im;
How could I have known he'd block my doorway with his bottom?

Oh, I won't get very far,
For Pooh is bound to know,
Yes, Pooh is bound to know
There's hunny in the jar.

Pooh Bear was burly enough upon arrivin',
And once he had me hunny, his pot-belly was thrivin'.
At last he finished eatin', and he got up from the table,
But alas, I was forsaken; departure was disabled.

Oh, I won't get very far,
For Pooh is bound to know,
Yes, Pooh is bound to know
There's hunny in the jar.

Me house became a jail. I'll admit I was frightened,
For every day that bear in me door seemed to tighten.
Oh, how desperately I wished that he wasn't quite so round;
He'd knock out the wall if he gained one more pound.

Oh, I won't get very far,
For Pooh is bound to know,
Yes, Pooh is bound to know
There's hunny in the jar.

I waited for another, that boy so wise and charmin'.
I frantically explained that I found this quite alarmin'.
He promised he would go and get some help. He wasn't lyin',
And we tugged and tugged that bear until he finally went flyin'.

Oh, I won't get very far,
For Pooh is bound to know,
Yes, Pooh is bound to know
There's hunny in the jar.

There's some takes delight in the haycorns and the thistles
And some takes delight in the chummy hums and whistles.
But I takes delight in me hunny, now securely
Locked up, nice and safe from the bears who visit early.

Oh, I won't get very far,
For Pooh is bound to know,
Yes, Pooh is bound to know
There's hunny in the jar.



Gilgarra Mountain

The Beagle and Woodstock (The Eagle and the Hawk, John Denver)

I love Peanuts, especially Snoopy and Woodstock. Here's a tribute to them to the tune of John Denver's The Eagle and the Hawk.

The Beagle and Woodstock

Snoopy: Oh, I am the beagle, I sit on my doghouse
And type tales that people will clamor to buy.

Woodstock:
I am Woodstock, and I have yellow feathers.
I'm so small I tumble when I try to fly.
Although I am puny, my good buddy Snoopy sees
I'm a fantastically fun little guy.

Both: Come dance near that blond kid who fawns over Beethoven,
Skate on the birdbath, drink root beer in bars.
Friends since '67, we couldn't be cuter;
We may get paid peanuts, but we're the strip's stars.

Idol's Gonna Change the World (Across the Universe, Beatles)

Six seasons into American Idol, and I'm still shamefully hooked. So here's an ode to my favorite guilty pleasure, to the tune of the Beatles' Across the Universe.

Idol's Gonna Change the World

Singers wind around the streets for days until their number's up.
We giggle and we gasp, we wonder how they could get any worse.
Catty girls and bashful boys leave dreams of stardom far behind
In dizzy clouds of misery.
Great TV and then some,
Idol's gonna change the world,
Idol's gonna change the world.
Idol's gonna change the world,
Idol's gonna change the world.

Paula picks a petty fight with Simon; he is tactless, but he's wise,
And with acidic slights he speaks of slaughtered verse.
Incoherent Randy rambles. Ryan grins, the face of FOX
Who doesn't mind the jeers that come his way
And every year get worse.
Great TV and then some,
Idol's gonna change the world,
Idol's gonna change the world.
Idol's gonna change the world,
Idol's gonna change the world.

Coming after months of mirth from singing
Solely to amuse, the hand-picked few boast victory.
Nigel and his gang will shove a thousand tie-ins at us till they're done;
That day will come when they have emptied out my purse.
Great TV and then some,
Idol's gonna change the world,
Idol's gonna change the world.
Idol's gonna change the world,
Idol's gonna change the world.

Great TV and then some,
Great TV and then some,
Great TV and then some,
Great TV and then some,
Great TV and then some,
Great TV and then some.


Sunday, April 1, 2007

Ode to the Ninja Turtles (Hazy Shade of Winter, Paul Simon)

I don't know if I'll catch the latest big-screen adventure of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles while it's still in theaters, but I sure loved those heroes in a half-shell as a kid, so here's a tribute to them, to the tune of Simon and Garfunkel's Hazy Shade of Winter.

Ode to the Ninja Turtles

Teens, teens, teens, foes of the Clan of Feet,
Love to lounge around beneath busy city streets
Chomping their favorite treats.

Deep underground,
They are found
With the wise, whiskered trainer they call Splinter.

On their heads they wear colored bands
With little holes for eyes.
It isn't much of a disguise.
It won't fool the clan,
But it sure helps out the fans.

Deep underground,
They are found
With the wise, whiskered trainer they call Splinter.

Raph is the reptile in red.
Often prone to falling prey
To bursts of rage, he starts each day,
It might well be said,
On the wrong side of the bed.

Leo's blue,
And he might
Lead the fight
With his sword that shines so bright.

Orange-clad Mikey's comedy
Is the height of hilarity.
"Cowabunga!" he shouts with glee
Whenever it's party time.

Purple Donatello sits
And makes the most of genius wits.
It suits him just fine
To draw up clever designs.

Deep underground,
They are found
With the wise, whiskered trainer they call Splinter.

Underground now,
So renowned,
Ninja Turtles sleep safe and sound.



Wednesday, February 14, 2007

It's High Time (Carolina in My Mind, James Taylor)

In honor of Valentine's Day and my Harry Potter kick, here is a parody of James Taylor's Carolina in My Mind in which Ron waxes poetic about Hermione...

It's High Time

It's high time I go and tell Hermione
Just how much I love her.
I can't stop thinking of her.
I wish that I could smother her
With kisses. When will I
Have the guts to tell Hermione? It's high time.

Harry, she's the only one.
Can you tell the way my heart is pinin'?
Hear it pounding like a drum.
I wish I could be good at this; I'm tryin'...
Oh, when will I tell Hermione? It's high time.

I wonder if she's really blind
To how I feel when she's around.
She has such a clever mind.
Has she guessed my deep desire? I'm dyin'
To just go and tell Hermione. It's high time.

It's high time I go and tell Hermione
Just how much I love her.
I can't stop thinking of her.
I wish that I could smother her
With kisses. When will I
Have the guts to tell Hermione? It's high time.

Harry, it's just not right
There's no defense against a fella fallin'
Into love at second sight.
Back when we first met, how could I know then?
Oh, when I go, I'll tell Hermione it's high time.

When that Granger was a stranger still, she found me
Acting like a dolt, a goof, a goon,
And it seems I'll be an imbecile forever.
Can she forgive me
When I go and tell Hermione? It's high time.

It's high time I go and tell Hermione
Just how much I love her.
I can't stop thinking of her.
I wish that I could smother her
With kisses. When will I
Have the guts to tell Hermione? It's high time.


Monday, January 29, 2007

So Wrong, Brothers Wright (So Long, Frank Lloyd Wright, Paul Simon)

Eighteen years ago, my uncle moved his family from Erie to Dayton, Ohio, site of the Wright-Patterson Air Force Base and hometown of the Wright Brothers. On a recent visit, my uncle remarked that the men made a big mistake when they decided to have their first flight in North Carolina. That comment inspired this parody, a complaint by Dayton residents against the Wright Brothers for slighting their city, which is to the tune of So Long, Frank Lloyd Wright. (Incidentally, I'll be saying "hello" to the subject of that song when his latest album comes out tomorrow; keep an eye out for the review, which will mark number 1000 for me here!)

So Wrong, Brothers Wright

So wrong, Brothers Wright,
Choosing to leave Ohio's skies so blue
The first time that you flew.
So blue, so blue.

We remember, Brothers Wright;
North Carolina's taunted us so long.
We've never been so wronged.
So wrong, so wrong.

Innovations come and innovators owe
Their hometowns the respect they're due.
Dayton's waitin'.
Why Kitty Hawk? We wish we knew.

So wrong, Brothers Wright.
North Carolina's taunted us so long.
We've never been so wronged.
So wrong, so wrong.


Monday, January 15, 2007

A Most Unique Young Man (A Most Peculiar Man, Paul Simon)

Here's a little rumination by Lionel, circa... oh, I guess the second half of season three, to the tune of A Most Peculiar Man.

A Most Unique Young Man

He is a most unique young man.
That's what Alexander said, and he should know.
He is a friend of his.
He said he is a most unique young man.

He is a most unique young man.
He was all alone when he saved Lex,
Who would have drowned if not for him.
A most unique young man.

He loves his friends, he loves his folks -
And who wouldn't love saintly Martha Kent,
With her gentle spirit and her crimson hair?
But she covers for him.
Oh, yes, he is a most unique young man.

I've tried to find a way
To unlock the secret she's sworn to keep,
For she surely knows, but she won't give it up.
Would she maybe tell if she knew I'm doomed?
See, I'm convinced Clark holds the key to cure me somehow...
But it had better be soon.

He looks just like his dad
With those jeans and that plaid,
But isn't he a most unique young man?


Friday, January 12, 2007

Metamorphosis



 Here's a poem addressing Lionel, inspired by one of my favorite Smallville episodes, Transference.

Metamorphosis
 
You were cunning and conniving.
You were suave and debonair,
And your fortunes were as thriving
As your lustrous locks of hair.

Then you harshly were reminded
You were fallible and weak.
So it was when you were blinded
That you first began to seek.

As you blundered in the darkness,
You endeavored to endure,
Probing enigmatic Clark
In hopes that he might hold your cure.

With fair Martha, you sought solace,
But she brushed aside your charms,
And your son became more callous
Though you offered open arms.

In long years of empty living,
Lex learned what you always taught:
That if he should be forgiving,
He would soon be cruelly caught.

When at last your eyes were opened,
You saw what you had to do.
Malice mingled with your hope
As your grim machinations grew.

Like a predator, you waited,
Never dreaming that the day
Soon was dawning when the hated
Hunter would become the prey.

All at once, the balance shifted
And your wealth was meaningless.
Your disease would not be lifted;
You were bathed in bitterness.

Ragged fear and desperation
Carved out craters in your face
As you seethed in caged frustration,
Wholly haggard and disgraced.

There was vitriolic fervor
In your plot to stay alive.
Though the Kent boy had the nerve to
Thwart you, through him, you'll survive.

Now the mysteries that plagued you
Are spread out before your eyes,
But that isn't all he gave you,
And you tremble in surprise.

He restored your health and vigor,
And although that was your goal,
He did something so much bigger.
Clark Kent gave you back your soul.

Sunday, January 7, 2007

You've Got an Ent (You've Got a Friend, Carole King)

All this Charlie on the brain has put me in mind of Merry, so here's a little song for Merry and Pippin for their sojourn in Fangorn Forest, to the tune of You've Got a Friend.

You've Got an Ent

Have you found that double
Hobbits make a charming pair
But never, never can match the might
Of the evil enemy
That could be anywhere?
And what about this guy? Is he all right?

When you bid him "hello,"
If his answer's painfully slow -
So long coming, you see the moss grow -
If his hair changes each fall,
If he's ancient, gruff and tall,
If he's Treebeard,
You've got an Ent.

Since the Shire you love is
Threatened by the Dark Lord's shroud,
You feel bold. You want to make orc heads roll.
Treebeard may be weathered,
But he is fierce and proud.
Stick with him and you will achieve your goal.

When you bid him "hello,"
If his answer's painfully slow -
So long coming, you see the moss grow -
If his hair changes each fall,
If he's ancient, gruff and tall,
If he's Treebeard,
You've got an Ent.

Ain't it good to know you've got an Ent?
You're out of the orc horde's hold.
He'll shade you, and he'll aid you
In making Isengard crumble.
Hold tight; don't tumble!

When you bid him "hello,"
If his answer's painfully slow -
So long coming, you see the moss grow -
If his hair changes each fall,
If he's ancient, gruff and tall,
If he's Treebeard,
You've got an Ent.


Thursday, January 4, 2007

Randy (Brandy, Elliot Lurie)

I don't mind admitting I am a hard-core American Idol fan. Have been since the first episode of the first season. Now the sixth season is almost upon us, the perfect ticket to beat any potential post-Christmas blahs, and I'm getting psyched. So here's a little ode to Randy Jackson, to the tune of Looking Glass's Brandy, to help gear up for the big event...

Randy

There's a show on the western coast
Where young singers come to bravely boast
That they alone possess the most
Amazing voice around.

And there's a man known for saying "yo".
He is bald, and he's in the know
With bands he sang with long ago.
He started the Dawg Pound.

And Simon says, "Randy, you're a fine man,
What a good judge you will be.
But the show will get its good ratings
Thanks to me."

Randy wears a silver chain
Cuz he likes the bling, and he will not abstain
From jewelry. The stylin' game
Is a pastime Randy loves.

He's quite fond of saying, "Dude!"
And when Simon gets too rude,
He is not afraid to start a feud,
To holler and to shove.

And Simon says, "Randy, you're a fine man,
What a good judge you will be.
But the show will get its good ratings
Thanks to me."

And Randy sits by Paula and he proclaims performers pitchy,
And he chortles from behind his hand when dancing gets too twitchy.
But when he sees those hopeful youths, he advises them with care,
For he has also felt the stage lights' glare.

Each year, in town after town,
Simon tries to beat Randy down.
But Randy Jackson wears no frown
Despite what Simon says.

And Simon says, "Randy, you're a fine man,
What a good judge you will be.
But the show will get its good ratings
Thanks to me."

"Randy, you're a fine man,
What a good judge you will be.
But the show will get its good ratings
Thanks to me."