Monday, 8 June 2009

No more worries about inflation,
discrimination, state of the nation
No more depression or elation
Now that I'm just an eructation

This was in response to Amit Varma, who in response to my Facebook status message (which was "Peter Griffin can feel some nonsense rhyme coming on."), commented:
Monster called up Mommy Dear
'Mommy, Mommy, hunger's here
But since you haven't sent my tiffin
I think I'll just eat Peter Griffin.'


More from Facebook, where, in addition to Mr Varma, Mr Basu chips in, as does Anupama Bijur:


Samit Basu
who is fighting air pollution?
who's the ozone layer solution?
who makes regal eagles chirp?
Peter Griffin, sentient burp.
Samit Basu
Samit Basu
who is stirring stormclouds rowdy?
who meets angels and says howdy?
who makes squiffy skuas squelch?
Peter Griffin, zen-like belch
Sudeep Chakravarti
Sudeep Chakravarti
bless you, peter und samit.
Peter Griffin
Peter Griffin
Amit's monster would've been a cow
And we all know, from science class, how
These ruminants regurgitate their chow
Ozone b 'ware! I'm the "me" in "methane" now
Peter Griffin
Peter Griffin
Sure, a burp's a noxious gas
But worse things could have come to pass
One could have been mere bio-mass
Expelled with force from the cow's, um, other end.
Samit Basu
Samit Basu
Peter G, most kind and gracious
Now turned into products gaseous!
Amit Varma! Blackguard! Thief!
With your pets we have a beef.
Anupama Bijur
Anupama Bijur
Griffin, Basu and Varma on Facebook
Together a bio-patent took,
Gobar, biomass or hot air,
Further verses will share.
Amit Varma
Amit Varma
Samit, Peter, do not jump
To conclusions with a bump
The Monster in question is not bovine
And yes, Samit, Peter's quite divine.
Amit Varma
Amit Varma
Ok, I'll tell you another fable
Monster sat down at the table
Shouted, "Mommy, just for Amit
I think I'll also consume Samit."
Anupama Bijur
Anupama Bijur
The Monster did not cherry pick
Consumed Pete, Amit and Samit
And down in his intestine,
They continued to talk in rhyme.
Samit Basu
Samit Basu
Alas! This monster du jour
Observes the rhyming Ms Bijur,
Consigns her to chambers gastric
And then sights the Duck Fantastic
I say, 'hey, you, monster, look,... Read more
Want to star in my next book?'
While the monster grimly ponders,
I strike! With the Beak of Wonders!
Spotting, on the corpse's paunch-o
The inscription 'I am Sancho'
I realize, as I suspected,
That fiend Varma stands detected!
Soon as I, now Case Inspector,
Construct my Zig Ressurector,
Spend all monies in my wallet
To turn Zig from gas to solid,
We'll be back, a duo most deadly
Fight this Varma/Monster medley,
And then say, 'Hey! Ma Monster! Dammit!
We fed your son your friend Amit.'
Amit Varma
Amit Varma
Samit, I like your imagination
I'm sure it'll help my friend's digestion
The Monster really liked young Peter
(Especially his sense of meter)
But still, the lad caused him some heartburn... Read more
All night it was turn, and twist, and turn
But now he'll have you with cold milk
And other poets of your ilk
Such as Ms Bijur (pleased to meet you)
Yes, sweet lady, you'll be eaten too.
Anupama Bijur
Anupama Bijur
The beast stirred awake on Sunday
Bloated from his feast yesterday
And seriously pondered Samit’s offer
To star in his next book on Monsters.
... Read more
Thought he, `Three-poets-and-the-lady mix,
Not as good as my own iambic.
Besides the courses came in the wrong order
Where was the hors d’oeuvre?’

`Next time, come one at a time,
Take a token, stand in line
We’ll have to pair you with a wine,
I stand on ceremony when I dine.’

`Amit would’ve worked with guacamole
Samit would’ve done instead of poulet
Peter is as good a sorbet
You see, I’m quite the gourmet.’

So Samit, I wish to decline
The offer to star in your set of rhymes
I’m ready for a food show, I am,
With none other than Anthony Bourdain.
Anupama Bijur
Anupama Bijur
`Heston may have his molecular gastronomy,
I have secret recipes from my Mommy
And with Peter Griffin,
Who needs liquid nitrogen? '

1 comment:

  1. Just now Peter's blog I read
    And having been progressively bled
    Of stress by the frothy head
    Of rhyme and wit of the merry thread
    I raise my glad of Chianti red

    ReplyDelete

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