Friday, March 22, 2013

The New ABCs

Away with the horribly old-fashioned A is for apple, B is for ball, C is for cat. They’re too boring.

It makes more sense in today’s complex world to introduce our intellectually gifted, computer-literate, upwardly mobile children to the New ABCs, which have been specifically designed to prepare young sophisticates for the world of tomorrow:

A -- Avidly admiring Adelaide’s antiquated architecture, aspiring actor Alfie Armstrong, amused, ate an apple. Amanda Axelrod, Alfie’s aunt and an amateur architect, absentmindedly ate an apricot. Afterward, assorted apes and antelopes attacked Alfie, an absolutely awful alligator ate Aunt Amanda, and ants, always aggravating, ate apple-and-apricot appetizers.

B -- “Besides baking biscuits,” boasted blueblood billionaire bricklayer Benjy Bickerson breezily, “busy baby brother Bernard, bashful bachelor, broke broccoli, boiled bananas, blended batter, brewed beer, bought buttonhooks, bagged birdseed, befriended barking beagles, blew bubbles between Brooklyn’s bigger buildings, but borough’s better brokers blacklisted Bernard because baby brother belched before breakfast.”

C -- Clever Claudia Cornwall, collegiate carousel cleaner, coolly climbed Colorado’s classic crevices, clowning crazily, crying “Corral crustaceans! Collect cucumbers! Close Carlsbad Caverns!” continuously.

D -- Dizzy debutante Daphne Dingleberry, Denver’s dimpled darling, deftly drove dapper Daniel Doppelganger’s distinguished Dusenberg downtown during December Dental Days despite daily demonstrations denouncing defective dentifrice distribution.

E -- England’s elegant Evelyn Epworth, ermined, enrages eternally exquisite Elizabeth every Easter; even Elizabeth’s emotions explode eventually. Enraptured, Egyptologist Edward Emerson excavated emerald eucalyptus, evoking Evelyn’s ennui.

F -- Fresh from February’s fig festival, fertile French farmer Francois Français, feeling fine, flamboyantly fathered four following fun-filled fortnight frantically fighting Finnish flotilla fleeing Frankfurt’s fish-feeding frenzy fiasco.

G -- Gowned gorgeously, Gilda Gottlieb, Glendale's golden girl, greeted Gabriella Gildersleeve grandly. “Greetings!” giggled Gilda, gleefully giving Gabriella gangrenous glowworms. “Gracious! Gross! Ghastly! Gosh! Go!” gasped Gabriella, groaning. Gargling, Gabriella's goofy grandmother, Gloria Grambling, growled “Gesundheit!” girlishly.

and so on.

Want to give it a try?

P.S. -- Just for klahanie (Gary), who likes to start with the end and work backwards, here’s my offering for Zed, er, Zee:

Z -- “Zay!” zcreeched Zanzibar's zaniest zookeeper, Zelda Zymase, zending zebras zcurrying, “Zinfandel zertainly zounds zilly!”

11 comments:

Mary Z said...

Wonderful fun! But "boiled bananas"??????? Yuck!

Shooting Parrots said...

Hereward Hammerstein hastily heaved heartily hollowed hailstones heavenward. However he hastily harvested his hallowed homeopathy, healing his halitosis, herpes, hydrophobia, hereafter hidden hackneyed health habituates, How his hubris heightened!

Snowbrush said...

And to think that you're a poet on top of all your other talents!

Gosia said...

http://zjawiskazyciowe.blogspot.com/

rhymeswithplague said...

Thank you, one and all, for commenting.

Mary Z., I'm pretty sure there are far worse things in life than boiled bananas.

Shooting Parrots (Ian), that's the spirit! Regarding Hereward's hubris, how indeed!

Snowbrush, are you saying these New ABCs are poems? That's news to me. They were more like intricately crafted mental exercises. Or are you referring to poems of mine that you have seen? I'm confused.

Gosia left a link to a blog written in Polish. I clicked on it, copied the text of the displayed post into Google Translate, and received the following translation:

"Hi! My name is Margaret, I am 16 years old and finish their education in high school. This is not my first blog, but I hope that will be the last;). It's hard for me to determine what exactly it is, because I would like to issues and topics on it came out spontaneously came out of you and all of us involved. Wish me luck and visit"

Well, Margaret, I'm not sure what you are saying exactly, but I do wish you luck.

Snowbrush said...

"are you referring to poems of mine that you have seen?"

From back when you still had your memory? I thought they were a little poetic, along the lines of Poe's "The Bells," but of course I hadn't been out of bed too long.

klahanie said...

Greetings rhymeswithplague,
Your post is not remotely vague
My friend,
Right to the very end
Your alliteration
Delights the nation
Like you, I say
We are rebels, come what may
We are a Z of our time
With the crazy ryhme
From Zed to A
We do it our way
Or maybe good grief, we call it Zee
Whatever shall B shall B you C.

Thanks for the mention
I like your intention

Gary going gently gleefully gathering gainful goals...

rhymeswithplague said...

Snow, more on "The Bells" in my next post.

klahanie (Gary), with apologies to Alexander Graham Bell, what hath God wrought? Just because you included a poem in your comment, here is my offering for the letter Y:

"Yumpin' Yiminy!" yelled Yakima's Yalmer Yorgenson, "you Yankee yachtsmen yodeled yeomanly yesterday, yet yon Yorkshire yelper yammers of yummy yogurt, yuletide yucca, yellow yolks, youngsters' yo-yos."

Yorkshire Pudding said...

Ribald Robert read reams religiously, refusing refreshment, rooted, ruminating, remaining rigorous. "Ra-ra-ra!" responded rebellious renegades, "Robert reigns resplendent!".....rubbish!

The Tusk said...

Writing wearily with wit, went wondrously whimsically whitewashing.
Why whine Wynecki when worry whithers with winters winds. Whalapalooza Willy whimpers where Wendy whispers without wonderment.

yoborobo said...

I'm still laughing over "Close Carlsbad Caverns!".