4 min read
06 Apr
06Apr

The 'Dogs are howling in sadness
As the BullDogs of Gonzaga
Ended the year
In the most terrible fashion
By losing their one and only game
Of the entire season
As the Baylor Bears
Not only beat them
But mauled them too
As a bear would do
If enraged and fighting
Such a tough little mutt
That would be overmatched

But that was not the case here
Not going into the game
As they were the runaway number one
With only their final four game
Being one they were challenged in

Until they were fighting for
The National Title
For the second time
In the past 5 years
With only four but having a tournament
Because of you know what

And yeah I picked them one night
Over at happs.tv
As a sportsminded caster
Was talking the tourney
And I asked the query
Who do you take
Them 'Dogs of Gonzaga
Or the rest of the field

As for what he answered
I don't remember
All I know
Is I chose the 'Dogs
And they got mauled by the Bears
As it was Baylor over Gonzaga
And it wasn't even close

Now I was nowhere near
The season long success
That poor Gonzaga was
But I was enjoying my games
As I felt like I had a chance to winningest

But not at all now
And just like that
Yes wham kaplow
Alpha's up
By a 113
And I have to ask
How can I compete against that

Now I'm not yet out of it
But I'm a distant 3rd
As Gamma had a second place hand
That I'm more than 20 off
Which has me shaking my head
Because I cannot think
That Kappa's out of it
Even though he's points behind me

And it was more of the same
In the stupid second
As I got like nothing
And they got all the points
As even Kappa
Almost doubled my score

But that wasn't all
As the beat continued
In the frustrating third
Where I got a great good score
Of nicely more
Than a goodly hundred
And was still behind
Gamma and Alpha
With little to no hope
Of winning the day
Which as you can imagine
Is frustration times two
As in what can I do
To win a game
That's standing against me
Like it's a real life thing
That has simply decided
That anyone else can win

And this was even more apparent
To close the game out
When I got the least of any round
That I'd recently had
And fell to last
Almost like
I dare to complain
About not having a chance
When there's little doubt
I haven't got a chance now

But if I were to quit
The game would have truly won
And beaten me down
And then I'd never get back in
As I know for a fact
That Iota and Omicron
Are keen to play

And that would be
Nine good wins
But given away
To a game I play
For goodly fun
Which can still be done
Because I can't believe
I can't win in April
Like Gamma couldn't win in March
Though it is what I fear

Poor poor Tau
He's down in the mouth
And fearing he'll never win again
Just as I myself fear
Well surely feel but like
It will be years before I even have a date
Let alone multiple ones
Be they with the same good woman
Or with others eh
Though I'm certainly down
For it to be
That one woman fair
And easy on my arm

But yeah it will surely be awhile for me
Before I have another date
Like Tau will win another game
Before I know that good
And Tau and the others
They're not real


Q1


On what good day
Will I cast again
On the goodly little site
Where I draw and write
Talk and host
The goodly playing
Of games of mine
I cannot say
But know you this
I shall return
And hopefully earn
More than I've earned to date
Which isn't near enough
To free the capital
That I will earn I hope
With time but spent
In the goodly doing
Of making it possible
It's just gonna take some time

Yeah both the earning
And my returning
How much for either
Well I know but not
The answer to neither
Even if that be English bad
I don't care
This is poetry eh
And the rules are quite in the face
Of the majesty of verse
That flaunts the rules
And says you will allow me this
Because it is poetry
And the only observances
Are the ones the poets make

Both for good and ill
As sometimes the will
To hew to the good of rhyme
Can be something of a crime
Though rarely for me
Because that's how good I be

But that is neither here nor there
I've gotten the boost
inwardly only
Of filming myself
In the act of drawing
As I did a day ago
And posted both to the tube
And here as well
Just under a title
That I cannot change
Without going back in time
Which necessitates
The goodly invention
Of a time machine
Which I'm not smart enough
To even try and invent
And giving it the title
That it should have had
Drawing by The Lake

But giving today's little videos
That title yes
Because it's two
As I can only film
For 17 minutes
And the drawing took longer than that
Will do but nicely indeed

I just have to mind the time
And try to keep it
To a video a day
Of the same good episode
Rather than two

What would I like to share
In text or video
The question is posed to me
As more than poetry
Is what it should be
Since verse alas
Is sadly thought
As being some oozed rot
But seeping out
As a lesser form of art

Aye this but even though
Only the finest minds
Are ably able
To mix a potent brew
For all to drink
Which makes me think
You're just jealous of poets
Because we're far too awesomely cool
Or something of the like
Because I freely admit
That I'm the one
But positing this theory
About the goodly coolness
Of people like me
Versed in the beauty
Of the goodly word
That rhymes but sweetly yes
So aren't I bound
To talk it up

Now I can't bring you my voice
For it was stolen by wizards
From a time before time
And all I give you
Is the good of rhyme
But if you care
You can happily share
In this goodly giving
That I didn't try to give
When I might have been able
To keep the posting streak
But half alive
Through this half good means

Yeah that's on me
That I failed to effort more
So the streak but died
With nary a whimper
And I lost the good green flame
I fought to claim
With joy in my heart
And a croak in my voice
As I like to say
I have a face for radio
And voice alas
For movies before talking

But I digress
And maybe even
Take up too much of your time
With stinkin' rhyme

Yet what's a poet to do
When trapped by a wizard
And unable to cast a Happs
As he normally would
So let this be the good
Until I can cast again
Even if takes me
A hundred days
Or even more
I will return
And hopefully earn
Some gold and silver
Which is only slightly less
A foolish request
Than the goodly hand
Of a lady fair

As for the noble sir or madam
Who cast their goodly eyes
Upon my verse
I do apologize
That I erased from history
That first casting forth
But I could let it stand
In such a way
That it was hard to read
Without the breaks
That it rightly had
When I released it thus

So here's to hoping some
That you'll newly cast your eyes
On this longer version
That will remain
Because it has the visual breaks
That it rightly deserves
Though truth be told
I'll seek to have some words
With those who write
That wicked language
But writ inside
The grandest thinking machines
That money can buy

So yes you writers of code
Even if the cost
To a better working here
Is a right good ode
Testifying to your greatness
And bowing my head
In your direction
With some dejection
I'll write that ode for you
Because it's the least that I can do
To do what's needed
For the few who need it

And I shake my fist thusly
Because the tech I have
Is being much an ass right now
And I'm sadly unable
To make good use of it
Like by sending my videos
To my own little crate
So I can deposit said bit of film
On happs itself
Which is where I'm hoping
My video can go but to
And count as content
For the weekly bit of local gold
Which also feeds my subscribers
Who ain't been fed
In far too many days

I can shake my fist again
Not that it matters to you
You just laugh at me
As I fail most easily
When you're in a mood
To be an ass
Like you are right now


Q2



And in I go
Curious to see
What might come of this
If anything will

Not to sound ungrateful
Because I feel the possibility
That happs but offers
So I like to be
Yes well but thought about
But where's the gold

See this is either a posting
So should it not count
Like live and on the air
Which brings the gold
Like finger snap fast
Or it's not
And shouldn't be here
For those like me
Who cannot be
On the air right now
But want to be remembered
Before they're forgotten
As if we didn't have us a time
Where we were daily doing
And even accruing
The rarity of coin
And comment too

Now if you tell me
It can't be counted full
As that of live and on the air
Because it isn't the same
As it's far too easy to write
In any form
And leave it here
For all to see
Who might read it howeverly
I won't disagree
But that don't mean
It isn't worth some gold

For a seventh straight week
If this counts as posting eh
Then it should count
For half at least
So I wait for that
Not to mention
Though of course I am
I was promised gold
For posting today
A thousand coins it was
So aren't I owed
At least but half
My Happstacular friends

Again but not to sound ungrateful
Or seem but greedy
And I mean this sincerely
That I love it here
And hope to cast again
Right real soon
Then cast for decades longer
But gold was promised to me
And by my mathing
I reckon I do
Should expect a little sack of coins
But deposited yes
At your convenience
To the goodly tune
Of 750
Which is plenty indeed
Of the goodly jingle jangle

And you know quite well
By the number of my posts
Provided in March
That I'm all too happy
To on the air
Throughout the day
Not always no
But on more than one occasion
It was two or times
That I was on the air
And not but just
For five or ten minutes

So you can well imagine
That I'm doing this
Because it's the only thing that I can do
Thus asking for my gold
Even at half the usual rate
Is only rightly done
Thus I'll be waiting
For you know what
At your earliest convenience
With your kindest regards

Fenton Harkwell

Of all the nerve I say
Like feckin' eh
Where does Fenton get off
Demanding gold
For posting text
On a streaming site
LIke if he can't get shit right
Then he doesn't deserve
Those sacks of gold
That he so loves

A most reasonable man
Who must say I'm sorry
That Fenton came along
And kept you from your work
We'll be leaving now
Before he asks about the flame
So lovely and green
That it'd be a shame
If these next ten postings
Weren't counted no
Towards the good of being yes
A frequent poster
But yet again

Q3



It's nine at night
And past the time
That I start to write
As the 4th good quarter
Hadn't been touched with writing yet
And it's understood
That it wouldn't be good
To let the night pass
Without some effort
As I'm less than a field away
From another winning day

So here goes something
As Sweet Baevalon
Is ever ready
For a right good swinging
As I am never now far
From the goodly flow
And think but yes
That this might well be
The best for me
To rhyme but hard
But going forward
Though not to the extent I think
As that of this year
But surely several hundred fields indeed

I have a cool new game
That's fun for all to play
Though what else would I say
Since it's a game of my own creation
And of course I'm gonna think that
But you will too
Though it's designed for four
A fifth can play
If they buy but in
And wait to the end
If they're just learning
Or wanna watch the fun unfold
Because that's how they roll

Now I fully intended
To present it here at Happs
But I came to see
How fun this could be
And might make
A happy buck or two
So what could I do
But pull it back
And keep it for myself
To share but later on
As it's good ip
Which you'll want to see
In goodly action

But played on through
From beginning to end
There was the tease of one
And it's hella fun
So you should want to play it yes
And soon of course
Because it's almost ready
For goodly testing
By those but close to me
If they'll agree of course
But that's a horse
I'll saddle up later
Or sadly not
As the case could be

Now all I gotta do
Is win the day
And draw another good Peach cover
Before the day but ends
Which I think I will
So thanks for being here
Even though I can't be fully there
As on the air
Is that certain fullness
I sadly lack right now
I feel your support
At least in views
Though small in number
I'm still in the getting
Though I should have figured this out
Before today
I'm glad to be back
As much as I can be

Tick tick tick
Quick quick quick
Fast like a bunny
Get the writing done
Though hold the phone
As what kind of bunny
Would even write
Save for that wascally one
But this little rabbit
Would not be him
As he'd be mine
But more on that later
Whenever later comes

And though I could easily stay
And write some more
I the latest peach cover
To draw but now
So I am out
Thanks for stopping by


Q4





Comments
* The email will not be published on the website.