Go  ![]()  | New  ![]()  | Find  ![]()  | Notify  ![]()  | Tools  ![]()  | Reply  ![]()  |    | 
| Member | 
 I love a parody, especially on beloved poems that don’t deserve it. Here’s my take on “I heard a fly buzz – when I died – (591) by Emily Dickinson. I heard an Heir buzz – when I died The Stillness in the Room Was just the Silence of the Heirs Observing Proper Form - No-love-lost-Eyes remained bone-dry And bated Breaths held firm For that last onset when the Doc Sign witness – in the Room - I willed my Keepsakes– Signed away What portion of me be Assignable - to my dog Fuzz And then arose a Sigh – A Blue-uncertain-stumbling Buzz - And dry Eyes lost all Guile And then I took my last breath, then - I could not help but Smile.  | ||
  | 
| Member | 
  | |||
  | 
| Member | 
 I wonder if you were thinking of Sattva with this one.  | |||
  | 
| Member | 
 A parody of  Invictus:  
 Out of the clothes that cover me Tight as the skin is on the grape, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable shape. In the fell clutch of bone and steel I have not whined nor cried aloud; Whatever else I may conceal, I show my thoughts unshamed and proud. The forms of other actorines I put away into the shade; All of them flossy near-blondines Find and shall find me unafraid. It matters not how straight the tape, How cold the weather is, or warm— I am the mistress of my shape— I am the captain of my form. Edith Daniell  | |||
  | 
| Member | 
 Sounds like Jane Fondle forty years ago.  | |||
  | 
| Member | 
 I learned a new word:  "actorine."  Female actor, according to Lexico.  | |||
  | 

