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Image for the poem Mammoth Astrogation .

Mammoth Astrogation .

    
  
( The Steampunk Journals )  
  
   
Babbage-Engine-Entry 1001  
Cat-Lap  
   
   
Tick tock, tickety tock  
it's no skilamalink  
steam be bellowing  
over our chronological clock  
Awaiting hands    
of copper fame  
to reside at six    
and twelve, again  
Let lubricants    
fuel gears, grinding cogs    
accross the blind face  
of alternative history's grace  
Steam for brew  
beans to grind  
with enthusimuzzy, the barrister  
furnishing the perfect trend  
Ace-high  
-a new aroma  
-a fresh new blend  
   
   
Babbage-Engine-Entry 1002  
Damfino  
   
   
Tick tock, tickety tock  
Anthracite burning below    
pipes on brass-cocks  
Pumping water  
through the shrine  
warming to boil  
precipitation prime  
Single-sided-valves  
syphon steam  
from the engine's hull  
images synchronised  
to a fireless hell  
When the aeronaught    
lifts the berth to propell  
the Bloater's basket-shell  
   
   
Babbage-Engine-Entry 1003  
Mad as hops  
   
   
Tick tock, tickety tock  
The buor astrogator's turn  
she's mounted on the  
copper-urn  
with gigantic  
cupid's kettle drums  
Suspenders peak    
from her leather-corsett  
The angelic voice, cuts a swell  
sharing    
aria on strings  
whilst mist rises from the    
welded faucet-rings  
Under the floor a viola sings  
bringing with it  
bright colours, to adore  
with lightning-light    
from her Edison's glass  
She investigates his    
jewellery bright;  
through her    
monocle of shiny brass  
Then she proudly sighs  
in final  
-grateful  
-orgasmic  
flutter-byes  
   
   
Babbage-Engine-Entry 1004  
Chuckaboo  
   
   
Tick tock, tickety tock  
Townsfolk mafficking  
at the clock  
with giggles and skittles  
to sample    
goblets, mugs, and cups  
poured from the    
barrister's newest    
copper-Arbuckle-pots  
Pirates in leather    
and satin sheer  
arived on ships  
Philieas Fog had steered  
All and sundry stood  
be feared;  
dash my wig  
they'd taken voyage  
in just  
eight days of toyage  
   
   
Babbage-Engine-Entry 1005  
Church-bell  
   
   
Tick tock, tickety tock  
The candy can began  
with every bit 'o jam  
the duchess is wearing    
her royal frock  
we're building a revolution  
without the pop  
In with the metal, out with the plastic  
in with the charming years of olde  
from the stories, we've been told  
Adorning top-hat, gas-pipes,    
waistcoat, and tails  
The prince  
a rather bricky man, invented    
The-Poem-Metric-Meter  
(all rather afternoonified)  
an analytical engine of    
wide advance, it chomps on    
words, grammar, alliteration  
similies, methaphores  
and personification  
With wires, gauges  
and electro-steam soar  
calculating sums of engineered truth  
evidence on brass beaded abacus roots  
the perfect word-brews  
to award a trophy    
for the winning few  
who've taken the egg  
and punked the english language  
To be knighted, poetic esquire  
with a giggle-mug  
using swords and holy water  
at a clock unveiling banquet  
with bit 'o jams  
kings, and lords  
tot hunting on the crawl  
All butter upon bacon  
   
   
   
-x-  
   
   
There shall be no collie shangles, it makes a stuffed bird laugh!  
 
   
   
   
.
Written by RevolutionAL (Alistair Plint)
Published
Author's Note
I'm steamhead. This is my journal. Be aware it's unencrypted by analytical steam powered engines.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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