Wednesday, March 21, 2007

Parabully

Somewhere in the Gospel, or else an epistle
We are called to lament and then told to bristle
At abominable acts not done in His name
Or, at least, not in ours, which seems just the same

A cabal in the shadows frustrates his will-
That my home should shine from on top of a hill.
Let the warning go forth from steeple to steeple
That my enemies doth confound His people.

They uphold the sinners who daily abuse,
In language I'd rather that they didn't use,
My authority to call, here on this Earth,
For referendum discounting my neighbor's worth.

I once was blind but now I have found
That my rights in landscape have been trampled down
When the branches on his accursed oak tree,
Cross the fence that divides our property.

And darker yet, his cat his sin compounds,
By stalking the branches that shade my own grounds
And with bearing I find to be infernal
Takes all my squirrels to rewards eternal.

But these aren't the worst diaboliculations
In my neighborhood causing our holy frustrations.
His wife has spread the worst of godless lies.
I was not at home and those weren't my eyes!

And so, for their trespass, theft and sedition,
Brothers, in His name, send them to perdition.
To let any sin in our midst lessens us all,
For do we not worship the God of the small?

GLORY, n. The grandeur awaiting the petty.

27 comments:

Sar said...

Oooooh, I this one - most excellent, Doug.

And lookie here, methinks I'm first. In yo pretty face Penguin! ;)

Glory: Rare Firsties

~Mo'a~ said...

Sar has the Glory on this the first day of Spring :)

Minka said...

Morning Sar and Moa, I don't mind sharing glory with you lot!

Doug, I have to re-read :)

*shining ever so brightly*

Indeterminacy said...

...Glory, glory hallelujah, Doug's truth goes marching on...

Melli said...

Excellent! Love it!

the amoeba said...

GLORY, n. The destination of those who drive while asleep. Also their appearance. No, wait, that's ... never mind.

Great work, Doug. 'Scuse me, it's not the company ... zzzzz ...

Quilly said...

glory on Earth, fleeting. In Heaven, eternal -- but you have to die to get there.

The Old Mule said...

Glory: The distance between first and second place.


And in other news...IT'S SPRING!

Mutha said...

"Parabully" -- is that like a paraprofessional?

I thought Doug's definition read "The grandeur awaiting the PRETTY" -- which would make sense too.

Glory: Also see "In all your glory," referring to nakedness.

pia said...

I can't think of a sentence that isn't sarcastic, nasty, oh right this is Waking ambrose

Still, they're not for blog reading :)

Jenna Howard said...

And in other news...IT'S SPRING! Old Mule is teasing me! So much snow...so much snow. Glory, glory hallelujah...more snow.

al said...

Nice poem, Doug -- and just the way I like it, full of hyperbully.

the amoeba said...

Yeah, Jenna, I wuz gonna give Ol' Mule a piece of what mind I have left 'bout that. Don't know what's going on where he is, but here, it might get to freezing today. Winter is holding forth in all its glory. Woodchucks be damned. Not to mention Al Gore-y.

G said...

Are you referring to Munchkinland? All guts no glory, tis my story.

Nice prose.

Doug said...

Enjoy the rare, Glory, Sar and thanks.

Mo'a, may this be the first of several.

Ah, the wandering waterfowl! That is bright!

Indie, like a banded circle.

Thanks, Melli. Welcome back.

Amoeba, I came pretty close to doing just that this morning. The sad thing is, if you do stay awake, the reward is work.

Quilly, that sounds like a temporary solution.

And the sun is shining, Mule, bird's a singing and some freaking squirrel is eating my garden. Good definition, too.

That does make sense, too, Mutha. You didn't know these are all mad libs, did you?

Pia, drop you sarcasm off before you leave.

Jenna, Spring is in you're heart. Instead of ruing weather, think about being one year older.

Al hyperbully reminds me of that bronze bull you posted about. Is it still there?

Amoeba, just because you guys live in the far North doesn't mean you have to be cold on the inside. It reminds me of Bierce's definition of Man, who he describes now living "throughout the habitable world and Canada." By Canada, of course, he meant Maine.

Certainly not, G.

Jenna Howard said...

think about being one year older. Glorious. Thanks, Doug. Thankfully though I'm younger than you.

Karen said...

Parabullys: Bush and Rove

~Mo'a~ said...

I forgot to mention how much I like your poem :)

Jamie Dawn said...

Those were TOO your eyes
Which gawked at her nakedness
And speaking of lies
Let's talk of your wickedness

You chat with the unsaved
You drive way too fastly
While gawking, you waved
Then denied it, You're ghastly!

An eye for an eye
A tooth for a tooth
A leg for a leg
And a neck for a neck

And everybody said,
"AaaaaMEN!"

Doug said...

True, Jenna. And prettier too.

Karen, you're like the sunrise.

Thanks, Mo'a.

JD, I laughed all the way through that. I'll Amen for everyone!

actonbell said...

diaboliculations! Well done, Doug, loved it. Glory's always short-lived, and sometimes glory has to be gory. ew

PANSI said...

You left out the R in pritty!!!!!!
But I luv you're definishon!!!

cooper said...

I'm sorry I just saw the title and started to laugh.

goldennib said...

I always get here late and by then everyone else has already stolen all of the glory.

Doug said...

Actonbell, did you just gross yourself out? Sadly, it does make pulling the arms off of peasants necessary.

Thanks, Pansi. This one was dedicated to you.

Cooper, if that saved having to read the poem, well done.

Nessa, it ain't theft if you get there first.

tsduff said...

That is a wonderfully composed bit of meandering Doug. I especially like the part about the cat and the poor squirrels... The GLORY is in your story :-D

Larry-Joe White (Virgil-Joe's cuzzin from down the way) said...

I thunk y'all wuz gonna talk about Peter-Willy Ziggenhopfer an' Ezekiel-Zavier Axtelhouse with the title of that there poem. They's a parabully fer shore!