Best Hammock Poetry

[Hangandy]

Okay, maybe it's already been done, but I bet it would be fun to share our best hammock poetry. I'm hoping someone can do a sonnet celebrating Dutchware, or Whoopie Haiku, the potentials are endless.

I'll start.

An Ode to my Snipe Hammock

Oh Snipe,
Dear beautiful Snipe.
Packed reverently by Marty on December 9, 2013,
Boxed with down pillow in a USPS cardboard container,
Opened cautiously by my CRKT Minimalist blade,
Hung in the bedroom with Whoopies at exactly 32 degrees, shiny side out.
Swung in gently, and then rambunctiously, until I dozed off to my favourite zydeco lullaby.

Oh Snipe,
Dear, favorite, beautiful Snipe.
I love you,
And, yes, I'm thinking about you.

[Gresh]

There once was a man from Belize
Whose hobby was hanging from trees.
He got elevated
Which made him elated
And now all his sleep's unabated.

[Hangandy]

It appears there are only two poets in all of Hammockdom. I shall endeavor to console my inconsolable muse through the vehicle of an original work of great poetry. And as this is now available digitally, it may yet rise like a phoenix from its ashes (wow great analogy) to inspire some future William Blake (or was he the actor in that cop show in the 70s with the guy in a trenchcoat who ate ice cream cones all the time).

Reflection by a Canadian Snipe-Loving Hammock Poet on Discovering the Mournful Truth Concerning the Endangered Outlook for his Craft
In sadness our poetry ends,
With no ill contempt for our friends,
Yet hammocking it seems all depends,
On enough idle time for the ends.

And they're lounging around on their backs,
Their prose seeping to space 'long the slack,
Of their ridgelines from R. Better, Jacks,
Hoping greatly neither juniper cracks.

So we sadly depart from this thread,
Whose 'injector' is filled with deep dread,
That, judging by the little he read,
Hammock poets are all gone abed.
Or Dead?
Wed?
Locked in a shed?
Filled with lead?
Watching Shug vids instead?
Lost cred?
Bear tread?
Choking on French Bread?
Overfed?
Drowned in their waterbed?
Still following the Grateful Dead?

Aaarggghh!
Stop it, I mean it....

[Hangandy]

Okay, I had thought if there was enough of us out there we could do up an anthology for all the gram-weenie hammock hangers. We could make the pages out of really small pieces of Tyvek and bind the books with Zing-it.

That way people could take along with them...

Wait for it ...

A little, light reading.

[Timberrr]

My signature block (after the first line) is from the historical poem The Swamp Fox by William Gilmore Simms. It's too long to put here but I commend it to your reading.

[Ike]

Hangandy, Here's a haiku I wrote about my JRB Greylock 4 UQ:


Puffy nest of down
Warm and cozy I sleep well
Somewhere, geese stand naked

Cheers from Central Coast BC

[DavyRay]

Beauty!

Poetry and hammocks should go together.

[Nighthauk]

I tried reading poetry in the hammock once, but I fell asleep. Was it due to the hammock or the poetry? Hmmmmmm

[sargevining]

Between the trees I hang
When suddenly I had a hunger pang
But I stayed in my nest
Cuz that's just the best
You wouldn't understand, its a hammock thang.

[Hangandy]

Hangandy, Here's a haiku I wrote about my JRB Greylock 4 UQ:


Puffy nest of down
Warm and cozy I sleep well
Somewhere, geese stand naked

Cheers from Central Coast BC

Of course you are making the assumption that most down comes from geese. The reality is that they are taken from the noble feathered fullheadofhair eagle which winters in Canada where for its survival it grows exactly 900 feathers per cubic inch to survive the brutally cold climate. When it arrives South of the 49th parallel it is then cruelly plucked of all its head feathers leaving it alive, yet bald, where it now must stay the remainder of its life feeding only on fish and small rodents, unlike its natural diet of Grizzly, Polar, and Tundra Koala Bears.

This industrial practice has become so lucrative that it is now one of the key economic sectors in the American economy; so vital in fact that the Americans have adopted the species of Industrially Modified Fullheadofhair Eagle (or commonly bald eagle) as their national bird.

Of course the American government as early as the 1980s become so angered at the Canadian claim of being the geographical and national origin of this species that they planned over a coffee one lunch hour to simply annex Canada. However when they called the Canadian Forces headquarters in then Dartmouth to identify its terms for the annexation the automated answering system being so confusing (in metric our phone systems all use a total of 10 digits unlike the imperial system which the US military was operating under which at the time was limited to only 7 digits or 5 on leap years) they quickly gave up and turned their attention to Panama and cleaning up Area 51.

And so to correct things once and for all, you don't get down off a goose. You get down off a horse. Unless it's a seahorse, but that discussion belongs in another forum.