Verbwhore Epigrams

[Sheldon Finklestein]

The epigram: a neglected art-form. It's generally a short poem, usually just a few lines, which wittily encapsulates an aspect of life. They can range from satirical to celebratory; vulgar to sublime. Here are some examples:

Lord Byron:

Posterity shall ne'er survey
A nobler grave than this
Here lie the bones of Castlereagh*
Stop, traveller, and piss.

* Foreign secretary and massive tool.

Alexander Pope:

Nature, and nature's laws, lay hid from sight
God said 'let Newton be' and all was light.

Matthew Prior:

A True Maid

No, no; for my virginity,
When I lose that, says Rose, I'll die:
Behind the elms, last night, cried Dick,
Rose, were you not extremely sick?

Which is all great fun, but where are the epigrams of today? This got me thinking: surely the folks on Cookdandbombd could come up with some witty rhymes to sum up modern Britain. Come on, I want to see stuff that will tear apart all our preconceptions and make the establishment quake in its boots. Or, alternatively, stuff that's funny. Here are my rather poor efforts, which I hope will spur on better ones:

Ode to Bernard Manning:

Now you're at St. Peter's gate
A thought occurs to me:
If your timing was so great
You'd have gone in '83

On David Cameron:

So, Dave, you are the cream of Eton
And yet I think you can be beaten
By Gordon Brown, because you seem
A cat who's eaten all the cream

Bring it on.

[Pseudopath]

On 'Only Fools And Horses':

But where it all comes from is a mystery
But, at a guess, I'd say the archives of the BBC.
We can't be arsed to write new comedy,
So we'll repeat this fucking shit from 1983.

^{Del Boy falls through the bar into Grandad's grave dressed as Batman and Robin.}

[The Widow of Brid]

* Foreign secretary and massive tool.

Gods I wish you'd been writing the footnotes for some of the stuff I've been ploughing through recently.

I've no epigrams though.

[Dusty Gozongas]

 Witch-moon that turnest all the streams to blood,
      I take this hazel rod, and stand, and swear
      An Oath-beneath this blasted Oak and bare
    That rears its agony above the flood
      Whose swollen mask mutters an atheist's prayer.
    What oath may stand the shock of this offence:
    "There is no I, no joy, no permanence"?

    Witch-moon of blood, eternal ebb and flow
      Of baffled birth, in death still lurks a change;
      And all the leopards in thy woods that range,
    And all the vampires in their boughs that glow,
      Brooding on blood-thirst-these are not so strange
    And fierce as life's unfailing shower.  These die,
      Yet time rebears them through eternity.

    Hear then the Oath, with-moon of blood, dread moon!
      Let all thy stryges and thy ghouls attend!
      He that endureth even to the end
    Hath sworn that Love's own corpse shall lie at noon
      Even in the coffin of its hopes, and spend
    All the force won by its old woe and stress
    In now annihilating Nothingness.

--Master Crowley. s'alright in it's own way. innit. please magick-marker this on my coffin and dig a pit 'neath an oak.

i know.. i know.. not in the spirit of the thread... but screw it...

[biniput]

"Channel 4."

Channel 4 youv'e shown comedy the door.
What the fuck for?
why now but big brother, Soprano's and more
has the land of countdown gone so piss-poor?

[rudi]

He's effectual, intellectual,
Indesputably the leader
You'd think we wouldn't need a

-nother fucking TC.



Sorry - it's late...

[TC Raymond]

On 'Only Fools And Horses':

But where it all comes from is a mystery
But, at a guess, I'd say the archives of the BBC.
We can't be arsed to write new comedy,
So we'll repeat this fucking shit from 1983.

^{Del Boy falls through the bar into Grandad's grave dressed as Batman and Robin.}

Ha ha ha!