Alan Wearne

Ballade for Alan Gould

What’s in a name?

Alan Shakespeare

Dear Alan, with benignest aims
(you’re telling me indeed What’s in…)
I give you not immodest claims,
nor self promotion’s wincing din
(non-Alans need to bear this, grin,
unless you’re one you’ll never know)
our king of names demands it so:
with simple maximized endeavour
watch my ballade’s blazon flow:
We Alans always stick together.
 
No minnows in the name big pond:
Turing, Lomax, Greenspan, Fels,
even our black sheep Jones and Bond;
the world takes note and something jells:
there’s that bigheartedness which tells
we’re democratic by the gallons.
just reinvent yourselves as Alans,
give the past a mighty sever
Ahmed, Boris, tip the balance,
join the name that sticks together!

Near holy writ, you know it pal,
like in a movie starring Ladd
that sheer delight in being Al:
the word gets out how, man, we’re baaaaad!
Chicks just swarm to Alan’s pad.
Or we’re a test team lead by Border
who’ll willingly obey this order
(seize the willow, whack the leather!)
in mateship pure (there’s little broader)
we Alans always stick together.

Claudes make way! Move over Jasons!
We lay it wide and lay it thick.
You’d think we were a mob of masons
to see backscratching do the trick:
when poesy meets biopic
who’ll play the Curnows, Ginsbergs, Tates?
Why Messrs. Alda, Rickman, Bates.
(Met any poet first name Trevor?
His lonely, untuned, tin ear grates.)
Muses and Alans stick together.

Piss off Con ‘n’ Don ‘n’ Ron,
the world has not seen lesser beaux.
Like Monsieur (‘ow you say?) Delon,
there’s one way for a name to go:
ditch that Edgar, Mr. Poe,
join my friends Alans Wayman, Murphy:
airborne, waterlogged or earthy
their word is law to end of tether.
Backsliders? Hardly! What a furphy,
both they and us will stick together!

Pettersson, Musgrave, Jeans and Price
all helped to build the Alan pie.
For kudos, though, please give that twice
since be it known that you and I
can only hold up half the sky,
and needing those who’ll share our vistas
-since there’s a Ms. for all the misters
(Kyle has Kylie, Heath has Heather)
four simple words adorn our sisters:
Allanahs always stick together!

And since our name’s the sweetest fate
here be our slogan, better, motto
If he’s an Alan he’s a mate.
(Who’d ever be a Merv or Otto?)
Like endless First Division Lotto
our deal is trumps, our crown is jeweled.
And furthermore all gods have ruled:
from big bang to the twelfth of never
(no need to tell you Brother Gould)
we Alans always stick together.

From yoohoo unto toodle-oo
your days are over Jean Paul, Lou,
our cause is a when not whether.
One l, two ls, a, e, u
(oh band of brothers! happy few!)
we Al(l)a(e)(u)ns always stick together.