Fooling Around

My friend Subbu (that is short for Subramaniam Ananthanarayan, which is quite a mouthful) wrote a note on Facebook, and I wrote something in reply, and then we went back and forth for a wee bit. It is corny as hell, but it was fun while it lasted, and I thought I'd reproduce it here on the blog.

Subbu:
From Bad To Verse
Tuesday, September 9, 2008 at 8:37am

The apple of my eye is forbidden fruit
Little cherub with the bow just won’t shoot
She’s got me under her spell, this is her curse
I’m going from bad to verse

She smiles and lights up every star in the sky
She is my sun, my who, my yes, my why
But she hears me not, though I scream me hoarse
As I go from bad to verse

Her voice it sends me spinning yonder
Out over the edge or teetering on the
My mind’s left me, my heart is hers
She’s got me going from bad to verse

I’ve forsaken reason in my search for rhyme
If she is a crime, I’m doing my time
When writer turns poet, there’s nothing worse
He’s going from bad to verse

Like moth I am to her - flame
It scares me to so much as say her name
I say it and soon the universe blurs
I go from bad to verse

Her pull is too strong, my end will be sweeter
Coming as it will in the pentameter
So say me a prayer when it passes, my hearse
For I’ve gone from bad to verse


Bennet Abraham wrote
at 4:25pm

Her reply is terse
It is not you, it is the purse.
It is fat, but it is not fat enough,
And thats your curse.
So, those wounds, as you nurse
Think of someone who cares
For you, in good health and for worse
Stop now. Before you go from Bad to Verse!


Subramaniam Ananthanarayanan (Ogilvy) wrote
at 4:54pm

No reply came
No reply will
She's colder than cold
Chiller than chill

So what of me you ask
Am i drinking from glass?
Am i draining the cask?
This much i can say
This much is true
I've emptied the mug and the brewery too!

Bennet Abraham wrote
at 4:57pm

Budweiser called. They want their money back


Bennet Abraham wrote
at 5:19pm

By the Irish country side,
The Old brewer awaits the tide
As good lads change from Jekyll to Hyde.

Pints of bitter and ale
And out comes the tale
Of lost love, drought of the heart, storms and hail.

So drink by the stream
And lets sing as a team,
Only to wake up and find it all a dream.


Subramaniam Ananthanarayanan (Ogilvy) wrote
at 5:42pm

We who are the Kings of rhyme
We who dream of all that's not
We who live outside of time
We who dare to unchain thought

We who keep this world alive
We who burn with every breath
We who gave the queen her hive
We are the men she puts to death

But such a travesty is all to old
Woman gives man shoulder cold
To Old Man Brewer we turn as one
And sing till one day the song is done

Bennet Abraham wrote
at 5:51pm

You can kill the man
But not his thought
Ye queen with your hive
Our songs are still alive

To the woman, we turn and pray
Give us today an answer, or slay
Us, and our pain
Who is to lose, and who is to gain?

Subramaniam Ananthanarayanan (Ogilvy) wrote
at 6:22pm

Your words they are a ray of hope
Or for me it was the tree and rope
I see it now it’s all so clear
All doubt is gone and so is fear

In myself now I must trust
Shine my armour (it’d begun to rust)
Fly the standard again high
Rend the air with a fearsome cry

Ride over fields and over the moor
Fight the demons and reach her door
Then put her to the question, I must
Win this day or...bite the dust

Bennet Abraham wrote
at 8:43pm

The east wind from the hills is behind me
I surge and break free
The flag flying high
War cries,
Fill the air.
The end is nigh,
Says a whisper.
But I have to have her,
This is not the time to lose hope, or err.
I brandish my sword, and clamor up the hill,
This right here, is time for the kill.
Blood and gore, they don't phase me,
And for her, I shall do it with glee.
Flee..
Climb those tall Oak trees
Pervade my sight,
Before l strike your hearts with fright.
You can have the spoils of war,
What I want is yonder and afar.
The knight continues his ride,
And he won't rest till he has her by his side.