Dinnertime by Weird Al Zaharankovich

Dinnertime,
And the eating is easy,
Parmesan cheese is in,
Tomatoes are lycopene,
Spaghetti is rich,
Raw onion is healthy,
The sauce is lip-smacking,
So rush in, my Muse-y,
Don't be shy,
Dinnertime ...

Where the Fakawi

Where the Fakawi?
On the edge of the Kalahari;
What dey do dere?
Dey looking for deer,
Dey looking for hare,

Dey caught any?
Yes,they caught many

but dey got lost
And plaintive cry,
Where the Fakawi ...
Where the Fakawi ...

Paean to En Attendant Godot - Samuel Beckett

One is Gado,
The other is Godot,
One goes the way of the dodo,
The other does the dangdot,
One goes berserk-u,
The other is absurd-u,
A poetun, a haiku,
A cross between Ogden Nash
And Edward Lear, his peer,
But no, not Nooh, the Gadot.

Parody D'amour, Take This Verse To My Reader

The same scene on a different day ...

Under an overcast sky ...

Instead of piped music, cig smoke provides the accompaniment ...

Planted Townies

The men sit under the burning sun,
Whence all but them have fled to the bower,
Day in, day out, right on the hour, past the tower,
Right there in Dungun town
By the Pejabat Pos clover;
Their skins darkened like fishermen,
In the heat wave, smoke lingers
From their fingers,
The filtered tips of their cigs,
Wetted by their black lips;
This is the scene I see every day
Since two months I moved
Into Dungun town.

Malay checkers they play,
Every day by the day,
On their faces not a worry,
The only pictures gory
On their cig packets surely;
Their pockets must be in pay,
For they work not a day,
And yet can sit in the sun
And all day play.

Say Father!
When are you going to take them out?
As the statistics indicate,
And the Health Minister shouts?
Or am I going first,
Worrying to death,
About my health,
Jogging the beach,
Cycling the road,
Picking through the eateries
Vainly trying to clear up
My cholesterol clogged arteries,
Calm down my beating heart,
And tamp down my rising pulse?

O Father!
Life is so perverse!
I who cross my t's and dot my i's
When it comes to eat,
Jog, sleep - and no cig,
I who traverse fields and ford rivers,
Living the style of a scouter,
Am getting the bejesus out of life,
While these planted townies
Are setting an opposite example
And seeming to get away with it!

God The Big Banger

Like the Big Bang,
God exploded into a
million souls and
has been exploding
and imploding in
a never ending
cycle - souls
scattered forth
souls sucked back in
as with the physical
universe, so
needs be done with
the soul perhaps we
can liken God as
the perpetual
bread-maker kneading dough
into bread, dough into bread
dough into bread
soul the dough
human the bread
man delivers
to earn his deliverance -
via la Delifrance!