Coming in Perhaps a Bit Behind the Penguin Craze Curve...
The penguin chick bursts from the shell
His fetal bed has served him well
But now, the newborn child will rest
Within his windswept, treetop nest.
Oh penguin child, oh fledgling fair
Stay snuggled in your jungle lair
And when your mother comes to rest
You'll suckle at her feathered breast.
Heed not the snarl, fear not the roar
The beasties on the forest floor
You need not fear death's gnashing jaws
Or felines with extended claws
Sing out your cry! Spit out your note!
Like gobbets from the drunkard's throat!
Oh penguin, king-of-birds to be
Sing out from your acacia tree!
Your soaring, graceful penguin glide
Doth make me feel so good inside
So fly! And kingly bird, bestow
Your guano on us, far below.
His fetal bed has served him well
But now, the newborn child will rest
Within his windswept, treetop nest.
Oh penguin child, oh fledgling fair
Stay snuggled in your jungle lair
And when your mother comes to rest
You'll suckle at her feathered breast.
Heed not the snarl, fear not the roar
The beasties on the forest floor
You need not fear death's gnashing jaws
Or felines with extended claws
Sing out your cry! Spit out your note!
Like gobbets from the drunkard's throat!
Oh penguin, king-of-birds to be
Sing out from your acacia tree!
Your soaring, graceful penguin glide
Doth make me feel so good inside
So fly! And kingly bird, bestow
Your guano on us, far below.
Labels: fiblet
posted by Peter Watts at
1:52 PM
10 Comments:
Wait, what? Wormholes and animal mutation? I don't know what your doing but I like it.
It's not behind the penguin curve but in front of the penguin new weird wave. Or something. Anyway, I really like this. A lot. The first stanzas made me feel all warm and snuggy and then the last made me feel all warm, snuggy and guano-y.
I definitely need more penguins like this. I'll even go so far to say that I like these penguins better than giant sightless albino penguins, and that's saying a lot.
Hey.
I have the original (print of original email) of this somewhere *rummages* but since we're in the middle of moving upheaval, I have no fookin clue where. Probably in a box. In storage.
I can't remember the occasion for which it was written.
the very tired and soon-to-be-relocated J
An earlier post mentioned space travelers who toasted the end of the Sun's main sequence. I just found out something you might want to remember: the Andromeda galaxy and the Milky Way will have long since collided, merged, and stabilized when that happens.
Jeremy Ruhland said...
I don't know what your doing but I like it.
And then, even more frighteningly, Julie K said...
I really like this. A lot.
To which I can only reply, er, I hope you guys were kidding. (I kinda suspect Julie might have been what with that line about giant albino blind penguins or whatever). Because that is not a poem to be liked. That is a poem, as they say, for lying down and avoiding.
I was kind of going for a "Springtime for Hitler" riff here. Thought maybe the Guinness people would take notice, if they had a category for Worst Poem Evar. Too good?
AR said...
...the Andromeda galaxy and the Milky Way will have long since collided, merged, and stabilized when that happens.
Yes. Good to know. Although I'm told that Earth will be uninhabitable in only a billion years anyway, due to increased solar radiation. Anyhow, it's all going into the mix.
Here is an overview of the life-cycle of a star like our sun. Apparently, the red giant phase will not actually be large enough to destroy Earth, or even Venus, even if Earth does start getting a bit toasty in around 1.1 billion years.
AR, I dare to contradict you. This just in:
http://space.newscientist.com/article/dn13369-hope-dims-that-earth-will-survive-suns-death.html?feedId=space_rss20
Interesting. Although, I do wonder why they make it seem like such a tragedy.
To which I can only reply, er, I hope you guys were kidding. (I kinda suspect Julie might have been what with that line about giant albino blind penguins or whatever).
Oh dear. I have once again exposed my inner psyche only to bring fear and horror to the good and innocent townsfolk.
But, you see, your little poem put the most absurd and bizarre images into my head. I will never be able to delete the mental image of a penguin chick squawking from an acacia tree. But while others might curse this, it gave me a smile and a genuine chuckle.
(No, please don't lock me up - I'm perfectly harmless otherwise. Really.)
The giant blind albino penguins I mentioned are of course from that classic of Antarctic exploration At the Mountains of Madness.
I was kind of going for a "Springtime for Hitler" riff here. Thought maybe the Guinness people would take notice, if they had a category for Worst Poem Evar. Too good?
You seem to have made a fatal error here, sir.
You've forgotten what happened to Springtime for Hitler.
That said, upon a reread, you did indeed nail the analogy you mention, if not the descriptors you give: it's charmingly twisted, amusing in an odd way, and I, too now have this image of a very small penguin perched on a branch making whatever noise penguins make. Possibly being glanced at askance by a few skeptical ravens.
(Also, Julie K? Not that I'm all that surprised in the depths of Peter Watts' internet lair, but your Lovecraft reference? Made my day.)
Now if you'll excuse me, I'll go back to poring over my economics riposte to a much, much older thread. Do a search on the crawl for Exxon Valdez if you're really that curious.
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