Blackbead

A "clerihew" is a whimsical, four-line biographical poem invented by Edmund Clerihew Bentley. A clerihew has the following properties: It is biographical and usually whimsical, showing the subject from an unusual point of view; it pokes fun at mostly famous people It has four lines of irregular length and metre (for comic effect) The rhyme structure is AABB; the subject matter and wording are often humorously contrived in order to achieve a rhyme, including the use of phrases in Latin, French and other non-English Languages The first line contains, and may consist solely of, the subject's name. Clerihews are not satirical or abusive, but they target famous individuals and reposition them in an absurd, anachronistic or commonplace setting, often giving them an over-simplified and slightly garbled description. The unbalanced and unpolished poetic meter and line length parody the limerick, and the clerihew in form also parodies the eulogy. Here's an example of a pirate clerihew, written by yours truly - Edward Teach Left his body on the beach But his black beard and his frown Are off to Hampton town. Try your hand at one of these and it may become famous. I am always looking for new pirate-themed material to use in one of the Seadog Slam shows. If the Pub can come up with a couple more, maybe I'll use this as a sight-reading round. Here's another - Henry Avery Tried all kinds of knavery But he gave the world a slip After taking just one moghul ship! Your turn . . .

raising the black flag hot winds blow out of the west never will I die

On Saturday and Sunday of this GRAND event, yours truly will be presenting a talk on "The Pirate Laureate or 200 Years of Pirates in Poetry." Starting with the wildly successful publication, in 1814, of Lord Byron's "The Corsair", we'll sail through the years up to the modern times with ELP's "Pirates" and two works by Shel Silverstein. Come hear how pirates have been portrayed in the poetry of a Pirate Laureate of the United Kingdom and why Bilgemunky thinks "The Captain's Coat" should be put to music!

Ahoy, shipmates! Blackbead and crew will be attending BrethrenCon II!! My vendor fee went off in the mail today and Captain Jasper and I are already getting excited about attending this soiree! I'll be bringing SOME of the treasure I picked up on me voyage to the exciting city of Baghdad so make sure ye stop by to see what we got! Of course, we'll have the jwelry, t-shirts, books, CDs, replica flintlocks, etc. that you remember! So, come to Denver and experience BrethrenCon II! Blackbead

Sad to say, this event has gone down to Davy Jones' Locker! Last year, for a number of reasons, it was poorly attended, too spread out, and generally didn't do well. Unless something has changed . . . this is an ex-event!

It is so good to be back! Lots of extremely boring stories and pictures to share. I didn't find anything really interesting as far as beads or jewelry, unfortunately most of the stuff I was exposed to was crap or made in China/Turkey/Vietnam, but it was still an exciting time.

The Pirate’s Prayer We sailed from ol’England on a bright summer day, Seeking fame and a boatload of gold. With cannon and powder and a letter from the King, We flew our brave ensign so bold! Through storms and hunger and a wide, empty sea, We thirsted after swag on the foam. But the days turned to weeks and all I could pray Was, dear God, just let me get home! Oh, God just let me get home! Oh, God just let me get home! Just let me get back to me wife and me babes And I swear no more will I roam! And then came the day that we sighted a sail, And the captain he promised a fight! The drum beat, me heart raced, the wind drove us on And we chased that tall sail through the night. In the mornin’, the sun rose and we o’er took the foe, The battle, as he said, was at hand; And as I stood to me place I found time to pray Let me see, one last time, me homeland! Oh, God just let me get home! Dear God just let me get home! Just let me get back to me to me own downy bed, And I swear no more will I roam! The enemy we fought hard with cannon all day, Then boarded the great ship in the dark! With cutlass and musket we battled the brave foe And at last we took the bloody barque! In the hold was treasure beyond me wildest dreams, More gold than I had ever seen before! And suddenly it hit me, like a silver cannonball , Oh, God, how I hungered for more! Oh, God don’t make me go home! Sweet Lord don’t make me go home! Just one more prize is all that I want And I swear no more will I roam! Now I sail on to the sunset searching for swag Sure, someday, I promise to turn back, But for now this life gives me all that I need And for glory and wine I never lack! So forgive me, dear God, I cannot go home And forgive me, my dear loving wife, I cannot give up this quest for more gold And I will not give up this life! Oh, God don’t make me go home! Sweet Lord don’t make me go home! It’s not that I don’t love you, my wife and my babes . . . But, oh, how I hunger to roam! Stephen Sanders ©2011 All rights reserved.

Ahoy there, me hearties! Blackbead has returned from his loooonnnnnggggg voyage to the east! How have ye all been the last six months???

I'd LOVE to do this again this year but since I'll be in Iraq I think I just sit and watch. Have fun, everyone!

My thoughts and prayers are with those that knew and loved him. I believe that he is not gone, just gone ahead. But that is cold comfort to those who are grieving and will miss him for the rest of their lives. I pray that they have strength to get through this ordeal. Blackbead

Just don't ever call it "Cow Pie" when you're serving it to anyone who's ever lived on a farm or ranch. It might lead to a misunderstanding.

There was a young lady named Banker, Who slept while the ship lay at anchor, She woke in dismay, When she heard the mate say, "Now hoist up the topsheet and spanker!" Okay, it's an oldie but a goodie, written by someone else and it's not really piratey. But it is DARN good if you ask me!

Hmmm . . . does it fit?

Hurricane The ashen waves, they roar and dip, Like lions they pounce in rushes. They seek the lives of my crew and my ship, But it’s my soul that the leaden sky crushes. The sails were tattered hours ago And I’ve lashed myself to the wheel. I’ll see this day through or I’ll “go below” If the devil can’t hold its seal. My ship flies wild at a horrible rate; The wind screams a terrible din. I’m riding the current and chasing my fate: Will I ever see the sun again? Stephen Sanders ©2010