Sunday, 31 October 2010

Hippie Hop

The Pen and The Sword had a fight, this once -
The Sword got sick of The Pen and his rep -
Just strutting around with undeserved fame,
Going “Yo, I'm The Pen! You gonna step
To me bitch? I'm the baddest!
You try and fuck wi' me,
You'll be the saddest
Cuz me and my nib'll put your ass in the morgue -
Ev'ryone knows The Pen's mightier than The Sword!”
The Sword wouldn't take this, he had backbone
A pattern-welded spine, entwined on the inside.
His steely constitution wouldn't take no shit
From an upstart Bic, a fucking glorified
Crayon, He ain't playin'
Designed for killing and he lives for slayin'
He says to The Pen “Damn, boy, you're a fool,
No way you can win – I'm a weapon, you're a tool.
Let's duel, here's the rules:
We meet at dawn, we stand back to back,
We take ten paces, and then I start to hack
You up sucker. Now hit the sack
And sleep – it your last night tonight -
When the sun comes up, we'll see who's got the might”.
At first light they meet, both prepared to fight
To the death, to the very last breath.
(I know swords and pens don't technically breathe,
But this is just a poem, suspend your disbelief)
Back to back they stand, The Sword and The Pen,
They start to pace and count to ten,
They turn to face – the pen drew first:
Drew a picture annotated with a scrap of verse,
Turned to The Sword and said “You see, I'm so great!
You can kill and maim, but I can create:
Pictures, and poems, and the ABC.
Give it up, Stabby, you'll never beat me!”
The Sword flashed and slashed and cut that shit to ribbons,
Destroying ev'rything that The Pen had written.
He advanced on The Pen, screamed “You jumped-up quill!
That's the last time I let you up in my grill!
I'll kill you, spill your ink!
Don't even think I can't make you extinct
Quicker than a blink!
I'm not gonna, cuz I know you've been misled,
You've got a stupid platitude running through your head.
It's just an old saying, you can't take it at its word,
It's ludicrous to think that a pen could beat a sword.
It was written by a bloke in a play 'bout Richelieu
In 1839, that doesn't make it true!
We need to change the maxim, it's time to announce
That it's the mighty mind behind the pen that counts”.