Yet another twisted nursery rhyme – Jack and Jill

I haven't done one of these in a long while, so here goes...:D
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Jack and Jill went up the hill
To buy a bottle of grog,
They huffed and puffed
All the way up
To see the man
Who made the grog,
A rickety little hut
Stood at the top
With broken chimneys
Billowing puffy smoke,
Bang went the door
And out he came,
Rolly polly with a bouncy gait
A big bushy moustache
Under a knobby nose,
With a one-toothed grin
He welcomed them in
‘Hello lady and gent,
Welcome to my castle,
Come, share my grog
Tis the best
Wherever you go’,

‘Moldy grapes and, rotting Apples,
All in the barrel with festering peaches,
An eye of Newt,
A foot of Toad ,
And dried Batwings galore,
Round them all off
With a pinch of KCN,
That’s the secret to my grog
The best you’ll taste
In all the world',
He made an offer
They couldn’t refuse,
And six bottles full
They bought from him,
‘One for Pappy
One for Mammy
And four bottles full
For you and me',

Jack and Jill
Went down the hill,
Happy as bunnies
On a long summers day,
They opened a bottle,
Took a few sips,
And before they knew
The world was spinning,
‘Look at the pretty colors
All floating around’
They cried all the way
Tumbling down,
A very steep hill,
Broken bones and
Purple bruisers
They weren’t a pretty sight,
But worry not
The precious was safe,
Laid up in bed
They sipped the grog,
And spent their days
In an euphoric daze

Baa Baa Black Sheep: The Unionized Version

Baa Baa black sheep have you any wool?
Yes sir yes sir three bags full
But you’ll never get any at all
Until you meet our union demands,
All these years you screwed us all
Getting the wool right off our backs,
A handful of grass and a barrel of water
Was all that we got in return

Well not anymore,
We are the new generation,
Sheep of the world
Thanks to a little thing called education,
No more the dumb nuts at your beck and call
No more will you screw us around,
To make your fat asses even fatter,
We got ourselves a little union now
And the rules are clear,
We have the right to make demands,
If you want to have our wool
Talk to my agent, talk to my lawyer
Let your people deal with my people,

We don’t ask for much, our needs are simple,
Imported grass and Evian water, just to start
A manicure, pedicure and a spa treat,
Once a month is more than enough
A big ass HD TV for our pad
A cable connection with five hundred channels
That is all we ask for now
About later we don’t know
The sooner you meet our demands
The sooner you can go back,
To your little farm house and comfy life
Deny us our rights and see what happens
All the wool goes to the little boy who cries down the lane



All characters featured on this post are fictional. Any resemblance to any person living or dead is not my problem…

The Beast

She slumbers patiently
Till the time a rider will come
Brave at heart and an adventurous soul
To awaken her spirit
And take her out into the world
Her black coat shines
Where the sunlight hits
With a hint of chrome
To give that extra glint

A tiny spark is all that it takes
To ignite the inflammable blood
That courses through her veins
Blood of fire that will pump the heart
To bring the iron maiden roaring to life
Open roads beckon forth
Break the chains and taste the freedom
An Iron maiden and her rider
Goes forth towards the setting sun

Yet Another Twisted Rhyme…

Georgie Porgie, puddin' and pie,
Kissed the girls and made them cry.
They all ganged up and made a wail
And sent the lawmen on his tail

Gorgie Porgie ran like hell
To the ranks of an outlaw he fell
The men of law came out in hordes
Come and catch me, he dared them all

High and low, near and far
They searched for him night and day
All hidey holes with a fine-toothed comb
No stone unturned all across the world

Search they may every nook and cranny
Hide nor hair could they find of this laddie
Always ahead of the chasing law
He made a fool out of all who dared

But alas his luck ran out at last
A cruel joke played by fate
Men of the law soon came knocking
To drag him back to give him a kicking

People rejoiced when the good news came
Georgie Porgie was a menace no more
Celebrations rang all across the town
Their little girls were safe once more

They dragged him into court upstate
To pass judgment and seal his fate
The mean old judge grinned with pleasure
And thus passed judgment on our little gangster

Georgie Porgie you've been a bad boy
You kissed them girls and made ‘em cry
For your evil deeds you must suffer
Hung from the noose till you’re a goner

Thus ends the saga of Georgie Porgie
A perverted little boy who made girls cry
When he should have stayed at home
Eating puddin and pie all day long



[All characters appearing in this post are purely fictional. Any resemblance to individuals living or dead is coincidental…and not my problem]

Azrael

I come from the heavens above
For all mortals young and old
When the time is right
To pass judgment on their lives
It matters not
If you are rich
Or if you are poor
All mortals equally I judge
How pure the lives you have led
The only thing that matter at last
Sinners repent
For my judgment is final
Cast off into the depths of hell
Forever more till the end of time
Who am I, you may wonder
Who speak such arrogant words
And pass judgment on others
I am what I am
I am Azrael
The Angel of Death…

Mary had a Little Lamb… (The Twisted Version)

Mary had a little lamb
Whose fleece was white as snow
And everywhere that Mary went
The lamb was sure to go

Years went by and Mary grew up
No more the sweet little girl
Her mind filled up with fashion and boys
She became a party girl

The lamb however didn’t give a damn
And stuck by her night and day
This was way un-cool for Mary’s taste
Coz it was cramping her social life

She went to a hip club one night
Got high on smack and booze
The lamb of course went along with her
And learned something cool

Inside this groovy club that night
He met a brand new friend
Who gave the lamb a new kinda grass
That blew his teeny weensy brain

The stoned out lamb saw the light
Knew what the future must be
He packed up his things and moved LA
And started a big grass farm





[All characters appearing in this post are purely fictional. Any resemblance to individuals living or dead is coincidental…and not my problem]

The Man with a Brick

I see a man walking down the road
With a brick on his head,
Bowed down under its weight
He struggles to walk straight

Weary eyes looks up the street
A glimmer of hope can still be seen
Searching hard for a sign of relief
That will aid to ease his load,
But alas, how unlucky he is
The road ahead gives no such hope
A desolate wasteland stares in his face
Barren as the Arctic fields

There is nothing he can do to save himself
He cannot go back, only forward
With every labored step he takes
The brick grows bigger and bigger
Till the moment comes
When he can stand no more
In the end it will bring him down
Crushed like a swatted fly

Pity him not
For this is the life we lead
A difficult journey
Yet one we all must make
Trials, tribulations, suffering and pain
These are all part of a ruthless game

Do not get discouraged
By the burden of life
Through all the misery
Hope must still survive
Once hope is no more in your life
So ends life that you live

Plea of the Unborn...

Please let me live!
Is that too much to ask
Do I not have the same rights as you?
To see the world as you have seen

Why am I to be blamed?
For the mistakes you make
All because you are too weak
To defy the demons of lust

You never consider of things to come
Or care not of whom you hurt
All life is a game that you play
Extreme pleasure, the only way

Life is a gift I want to embrace
And feel its warmth caress my face
Why must you deny me this gift?
When you yourself enjoy it the most

The Eagle

In the clear blue skies above
A gliding shadow can be seen
Unfurled wings touching the clouds
In a salute to the heavens above
Like a monarch who savours his kingdom
The proud and mighty Eagle soars

Mountains and Valleys
Rivers and Streams
Villages, cities and humans too
All pass below like Lilliputian scenes
Ever so small and quite insignificant
To him they mean nothing,
Yet they are everything
Nothing bounds him,
Nothing holds him back
For the sky is his realm
And he is free to do his will…

The Grim Reaper

A long black robe reaching the ground
A hood hides a face so proud
Staring ahead with soulless eyes
Without emotion without care
Darkness follows his every step
And all where his shadow falls
Life whither like leaves in fall

A skeletal hand holds a scythe
Its blade curved in an evil grin
Waiting patiently until the time is right
To proudly serve its master’s request
He roams the earth
Watching and Waiting
Until the sands of time run out
And finally when there is no more
The blade of silver will do its work
To sever the bonds of life
And grant the freedom they yearn

I Wish

I wish the eyes of man to open
So that he may see the truth
That his heart should not be
A place for hate to call home

I wish the eyes of man to see
The ruin caused by his hand
All because he has let his life
Be ruled by the demons of hate

I wish the hearts of man to feel
The wonders a little love can do
That he may turn from destruction
And save mankind from annihilation

Deliverance

Hear the bells toll, thy liberty is near
A savior in the shadowy depths
Brings forth deliverance to all
What fools these mortals are to run and hide?
Though they discern of its futility
Know that when it has gazed upon you,
No man or machine can deter its course
It is the inevitable truth that none can deny
To fear it is useless
Embrace it in joy
It is the most imperative gift given unto man
For surviving the nightmare that is life

Free Souls

What is the purpose of life,
can anyone tell me?
This is the ultimate question
yet none can answer
Is there a higher purpose to fulfill
we have not yet understood
Or are we mere playthings for an unseen deity
A malevolent puppeteer
controlling our every move
Gloating in rapturous glee
by the misery caused by it’s hands
Reflect upon this;
Are we truly free souls?
Or just puppets at the end of a string...