Adie Pena

Anagrammy Awards > Literary Archives > Adie Pena

Original text in yellow, anagram in pink.

DISTANT SHORES
By Chad and Jeremy

Sweet soft summer nights
Dancing shadows in the distant lights
You came for me to follow
And we kissed on distant shores

Long quiet hours of play
Sounds of tomorrow from yesterday
Love came for me to follow
And we kissed on distant shores

The careful glance of children playing
Raindrops fall as if they're saying
Quiet thoughts of you caressed by time

The breeze of summer's gone
Whispered memories as nights grow long
You came for me to follow
And we kissed on distant shores.

TAINTED SHORES
by Goner Louie Shiannah and Flo Riddah

Off a mad man's firm!
Condemned, infected, why let us squirm?
Oil slicks for men to wallow?
Then protect unspotted shores!

They destroy our home,
Detested enemy of sea and foam.
Oil slicks from screwy fellows
As we await on sandy shores.

Now many shifts that we are losing;
That monstrous rig of BP oozing.
Mad thoughts of us covered by grime!

Clogged, then ghastly grease!
Gruesome offenses, just quit it please!
Oil slicks of dirty sorrow
So we are damned on dying shores.

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BEYOND THE SEA
by Bobby Darin

Somewhere beyond the sea
Somewhere waiting for me
My lover stands on golden sands
And watches the ships that go sailin'

Somewhere beyond the sea
She's there watching for me
If I could fly like birds on high
Then straight to her arms I'd go sailin'

It's far beyond the stars
It's near beyond the moon
I know beyond a doubt
My heart will lead me there soon

We'll meet beyond the shore
We'll kiss just as before
Happy we'll be beyond the sea
And never again I'll go sailin'

I know beyond a doubt
My heart will lead me there soon
We'll meet beyond the shore
We'll kiss just as before
Happy we'll be beyond the sea
And never again I'll go sailin'

No more sailin'
So long sailin'
Bye bye sailin'...
Move on out captain.

KILLIN' THE SEA
by Wayward Hayward

Somewhere out in the sea,
Somewhere so grubbily,
A Brit man knows the crude oil flows
And watches the rig that go drillin'

Somewhere out in the sea
He's there so shabbily.
The babbling snob is on the job
Where straight to the sea they are spillin'

Someday beyond a bay,
Yes, someone's dabbed in grime.
Oh, anybody's dead
Poisoned by offensive slime!

The dirt seeps on the shore,
A muck we all abhor!
We hope they'd all be locked in jail
So never again they'd go drillin'

The nonsense of money
Defines one nasty man of greed.
A bane from East to West,
A mess we all detest.
We all want them soon behind bars
And never again they'll go spillin'

No more drillin'
So long spillin'
Bye bye killin'...
Move out, Tony, die!

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OCTOPUS'S GARDEN

I'd like to be under the sea
In an octopus's garden in the shade
He'd let us in, knows where we've been
In his octopus's garden in the shade

I'd ask my friends to come and see
An octopus's garden with me
I'd like to be under the sea
In an octopus's garden in the shade

We would be warm below the storm
In our little hideaway beneath the waves
Resting our head on the sea bed
In an octopus's garden near a cave

We would sing and dance around
Because we know we can't be found
I'd like to be under the sea
In an octopus's garden in the shade

We would shout and swim about
The coral that lies beneath the waves
(Lies beneath the ocean waves)
Oh what joy for every girl and boy
Knowing they're happy and they're safe
(Happy and they're safe)

We would be so happy you and me
No one there to tell us what to do
I'd like to be under the sea
In an octopus's garden with you
In an octopus's garden with you
In an octopus's garden with you

We woke Wednesday and, as we watched on teevee John Lennon on the drums, we saw Ringo Starr (a.k.a. Richard Starkey) co-writing the pop song with George Harrison.

We heard of a story how the endearing hit song from the Beatles album "Abbey Road" had been penned.

Eyewitnesses say, when he was on a weekend getaway in Sardinia, he wanted Fish and Chips but, unbeknowst to the party host, he was erroneously served a hideous dish: Baked Calamari in Mayonnaise! Ew, indeed! Unadventurous, nauseous and unable to eat a sumptuous yet yucky lunch, the other understanding guests spoke about the inventive things a contented eight-legged octopus did under the beauteous and bounteous sea-weeded ocean. And, oh boy, the idea dawned on him!

Now we are on the topic of octopuses, do we believe and heed the predictions of Paul the Octopus? (Ha! He chose Spain.)

So, will Spain actually obtain the World Cup, or will it be Netherlands?

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The anagram contains a constraint. CEO Tony Hayward's company can be found five times in the poem, i.e. [a]BP, [e]BP, [i]BP, [o]BP and [u]BP. When these are connected alphabetically by a continuous line, a figure will appear indicating the number of months the Deepwater Horizon gusher has been polluting the surrounding areas as of July 2010.

JULY
by Hilaire Belloc

The Kings come riding back from the Crusade,
The purple Kings and all their mounted men;
They fill the street with clamorous cavalcade;
The Kings have broken down the Saracen.
Singing a great song of the eastern wars,
In crimson ships across the sea they came,
With crimson sails and diamonded dark oars,
That made the Mediterranean flash with flame.

And reading how, in that far month, the ranks
Formed on the edge of the desert, armoured all,
I wish to God that I had been with them
When the first Norman leapt upon the wall,
And Godfrey led the foremost of the Franks,
And young Lord Raymond stormed Jerusalem.

JULY

A crab perishes in the hell-like murky slick
Offending London as the controversy rages.
What the men read and fathom makes them sick
Hundredfold on television, in the web pages.
Tarring mammal fur, fins, feathers and wings
The waters turn lethal in grimy Louisiana.
The glib person won't narrate those mad things
As the dark tides reach the coast of Florida...

Immolating the endangered school and flock.
Accommodating the horrid CEO's job pressure,
Drown the hardheaded fool, smear the wayward.
Let me gag the ill-mannered and the immature.
With no effort to tame the shame and the shock,
Let's drub president Anthony Hayward!

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"AUGUST rushes by like desert rainfall,
A flood of frenzied upheaval,
Expected,
But still catching me unprepared.
Like a matchflame
Bursting on the scene,
Heat and haze of crimson sunsets.
Like a dream
Of moon and dark barely recalled,
A moment,
Shadows caught in a blink.
Like a quick kiss;
One wishes for more
But it suddenly turns to leave,
Dragging summer away."

[Elizabeth Maua Taylor]

SEPTEMBER beckons
A full harvest moon
Gleaming on a gentle lake.
A colourful tableau
In dazzling hues;
Its fallen burgundy leaves
Litter a muddied backyard.
As a sapphire sky turns dark,
A mist of melancholy,
A past of weathered sadness
Consumes me.
Tucked by a crackling fire,
I dream of dusks ahead,
I remember the great autumn equinox.
The chill of old winter
Awaits in the horizon.

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Autumn sunlight streams
Through unblocked western window
Where two towers stood.

"Tumultuous," we moaned,
"The worn wristwatch on the ground
Broke strengthless widows."

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Updated: May 10, 2016


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