Inspir'd by teh great work of the guys working on teh Lolcat Bible, I have decided to waste time working on a little Lolpoetry of mah own. Presenting the couple of stanzas of Teh Rayvun by Edga Al'n Po.

I sorry, iambic pentameter.

Teh Rayvun

Wuz leight at naite an wuz dreer- dreea- dark, an I wuz hav sleepy thinkz,
'bout lotz ov straenge ol' stuffs
Wuz nut sleepz! But wuz resting mah eyz, wen wuz nocnock noize,
Sum1 nocked an nocked at dor
"Sum1 are ther," I sez to self, "Tappin' on mah dor.
Nuffin' skeery.

Ah yus! Wuz in Chrissmustaim coz wuz cold, I rememburz,
Wur  lotz uv laites on flor frum faier.
Wanted it ta bee t'morro; DID NOT WANT b sadz
Can has happy frum books? 'cuz wantz Lenor - laik teh fabrik sofner -
But dis Lenor not fabrik sofner, is purty aynjel -
But is naymless 4eva.

Curtens mayde teh russling noizes, wuz sp00kie.
Mayde hair stand up on endz, wuz very skeerd.
Traid nut 2 b skeerd, sez 2 self lotz an lotz
"Iz not 2 b skeerd. Cuz is jus' frend cum 2 vizzit.
Frend iz layt
Not nuffin' skeery. Iz frend.

Aaaaand now, Nadia needs to get back to work on her Roman History essay plan. If you would like to verify the accuracy of this contemporary rendering of a literary favourite, see below.

If you enjoyed this programme, and would like to see more of the same kind of programming, all you have to do is comment. ; P

 

The Raven

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'