The Special Category

Anagrammy Awards > Voting Page - Special Category

An optional explanation about the anagram in green, the subject is in black, the anagram is in red.

[an error occurred while processing this directive]


John Lennon and Paul McCartney

I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together.
See how they run like pigs from a gun, see how they fly.
I'm crying.

Sitting on a cornflake, waiting for the van to come.
Corporation tee-shirt, stupid bloody Tuesday.
Man, you been a naughty boy, you let your face grow long.
I am the eggman, they are the eggmen.
I am the walrus, goo goo g'joob.

Mister city policeman sitting
Pretty little policemen in a row.
See how they fly like Lucy in the Sky, see how they run.
I'm crying, I'm crying.
I'm crying, I'm crying.

Yellow mother custard, dripping from a dead dog's eye.
Crabalocker fishwife, pornographic priestess,
Boy, you been a naughty girl you let your knickers down.
I am the eggman, they are the eggmen.
I am the walrus, goo goo g'joob.

Sitting in an English garden waiting for the sun.
If the sun don't come, you get a tan
From standing in the English rain.
I am the eggman, they are the eggmen.
I am the walrus, goo goo g'joob goo goo g'joob.

Expert textpert choking smokers,
Don't you think the joker laughs at you?
See how they smile like pigs in a sty,
See how they snied.
I'm crying.

Semolina pilchard, climbing up the Eiffel Tower.
Elementary penguin singing Hari Krishna.
Man, you should have seen them kicking Edgar Allan Poe.
I am the eggman, They are the eggmen.
I am the walrus, goo goo g'joob goo goo g'joob goo goo g'joob.
Goo goo g'joob goo

Kim Jong-un (The Other Supreme Deity)

I am he, a deity, I'm almighty, yes I am Kim-Jong un,
See people cower at my great power, fall to their knees,
They'd die for me.

Flying on a high cloud, peering at the Earth below,
Great Supreme Commander of the People's Army,
Youngest person to become a Head of State,
I am the Great One, they are the weak ones,
I am almighty, go go g'Jong!

My sweet North Korea,
You'll be one mighty superpower!
People in the US, and the UK too, are busy running scared,
I'm Godlike, I'm mighty.
So rightly, so rightly.

We are going nuclear, there is nothing you can do,
You dogs in South Korea, are cringing in big fear,
Knowing you will soon succumb to our heroic men.
I am the Great One, you are the weak ones,
I am almighty, go go g'Jong!

Crouching in an English garden waiting for the bang!
When my rockets come you Brits will feel the scorching pain of acid rain;
I am the Great One, you are the weak ones,
I am almighty, go go, g'Jong, go go g'Jong!

Huge, X-factor chain reactors,
Bubbling nuclear poison underground,
See how they vie to rise into the sky,
Soon they will fly,
They'll fly.

People say I'm chubby, but they don't say it to my face,
I know I am sexy, any girl would let me
Share a night of passion, coupling in a hotel bed.
I am the Great One, they are the weak ones,
I am almighty, go go g'Jong, I'm so very strong, go g'Jong, I am an icon! go go g'Jong, yes, I wrote this song!
Go go g'Jong!

[an error occurred while processing this directive]


"Drink to me only with thine eyes, and I will pledge with mine;
Or leave a kiss within the cup and I'll not look for wine."

Propose most loving one, and that, when with thee I'll recline.
Or ask me kindly if I'd like, and with you I will entwine.

[an error occurred while processing this directive]


[A three-way crossword includes nineteen colored clues comprising eight original anagrams. The letters in the completed grid are an anagram of both the "ACROSS" and "DOWN" clues, which are anagrams of each other.]

1. Leg part
3. Grieves
6. Gorge
8. Key
12. Twice four
14. Ordinary seasoning
15. Ariel e.g.
16. Story
18. Roadster
19. Eternity
21. Ten gauges
23. Gradual
27. Shade
29. Talent
31. Alveolar malady
33. Hotel
34. At ___ door
35. Thin; minimise
36. Rested on a divan
38. This month's
40. Chill; ice
41. Showoff; ham
45. Booze
47. Seasickness
51. Era
52. Any female deer
53. Poppy pit?
56. Muddle
57. Sharon was a good one
59. Trusting
60. Fume; emanation
61. Lenity
62. Foul; revile; ruin
63. Beeper

1. Grope
2. Generator
3. Meteor
4. Stingy
5. Ocean
6. Staid
7. Bravado
9. Sully
10. Grant
11. Vile
13. Plus
17. Gentle
20. Languid; weary; holey
22. To turn to the right
24. Speechlessness
25. Foam
26. Proper
28. Leader
30. Animated
32. Agonizing
33. Void; banal
37. Fame
39. Traipse idly amok
42. A finale
43. A revolution
44. Some sword-like irises
46. Hefty tumefaction
48. Gathering
49. One fine sword
50. Dreary
51. He authored Crusoe
54. Male; he
55. Dismay
58. So intense

 _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ + _ _ _ _ _ _ _ ~ 1D + 38A +37D
 _ _ _ _ _ _ _ + _ _ _ _ _ _ = 33D + 21A
 _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ = 54D + 3A + 61A
 _ _ _ _ _ + _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ = 6D +28D
 _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ + _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ = 32D + 9D
 15A + 36A ~  _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
 _ _ _ + _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ = 43D + 34A + 60A
 _ _ _ _ _ _ _ = 58D + 55D

 Perennial flowers ~ feel April's renown.
 Hunting season = Inane shotguns.
 Sympathising = Man sighs pity.
 Roman Catholics = Stoical monarch.
 Terminal diagnosis = Demoralising stain.
 Mermaid sat ~ amidstream.
 The undertakers ~ turn death's reek.
 Warfare = Raw fear.

[an error occurred while processing this directive]


There once was a man from Boston,
Who drove around in an Austin.
He had room for his ass
And a gallon of gas,
But his balls hung out so he lost 'em!

Two enormous savages from Boston
Had high Fatiha honor tossed in;
As road runners all...
Oh no! Stumble and fall!
Ah, one huge BOOM 'twas causin'!

[an error occurred while processing this directive]


There once was a man from Boston,
Who drove around in an Austin.
He had room for his ass
And a gallon of gas,
But his balls hung out so he lost 'em!

Tsarnaev was a household name;
Now horror is the fools' fame.
On cue, booming blasts
Found nations aghast --
Brought all dishonour and shame.

[an error occurred while processing this directive]


[Angela Beegle's A POEM FOR MARTIN RICHARD is anagrammed into another poem entitled "PEACE" with the acrostic "NO MORE HURTING PEOPLE." The title and phrase are from this picture of the eight-year-old Boston Marathon bombing victim, Martin William Richard. ]

by Angela Beegle

I see you there in your last moments,

Hanging excitedly over the fence

Watching for your daddy, mom and sisters at your side

People swarm and mill around you, unnoticed

But your attention is for only one man

Your young face glows with pride

What might you have been, if you had grown?

What contributions might the world have known?

A scientist, astronaut, fireman brave?

Who knows what lives you might have saved?

It's a haunting image, that one captured frame

The next shutter-click would show a different aim

A trajectory of metal, flung outward

A spiteful curse at the world by strangers

Who dropped their bags and walked away, smirking.

You weren't the target. You just happened to be there,

Clinging to the fence, cheering at the finish line,

Best seat in the house, lucky kid!

To watch your daddy finish his race.


Naked though in its tough resoluteness, oppressive with the chunks

Of a broken dream, why they, the detested two who

Meant to murder and maim

Ordinary humdrum lives on that trustworthy day;

Rubbing out that week of huge fortune, of customary grace, hence

Extinguishing a youthful flame.

Hurling heavy shrapnel into the air

Unflinching in its awkward bitterness and despair.

Ravaging to attack thoughts one day, they cut and defeat

The mighty barricades on Boylston Street.

Incisively affected, wanting to "B Strong,"

Now you wearily turn away to "So Long...

Goodbye, Martin William Richard."

Prejudice accommodates, chooses the worthy.

Every young hopeful watches the wideawake to now

Offer a murmur, a prayer whilst we

Patiently wait for dad Bill as you of eight

Leave behind mom Denise and sister Jane

Endure an excruciating lifelong pain.

[an error occurred while processing this directive]


ATTORNEY: What was the first thing your husband said to you that morning?
WITNESS: He said, 'Where am I, Cathy?'
ATTORNEY: And why did that upset you?
WITNESS: My name is Pamela!
ATTORNEY: What gear were you in at the moment of the impact?
WITNESS: Gucci sweats and Reeboks.
ATTORNEY: How old is your son, the one living with you?
WITNESS: Thirty-eight or thirty-five, I can't remember which.
ATTORNEY: How long has he lived with you?
WITNESS: Forty-five years.
ATTORNEY: This myasthenia gravis, does it affect your memory at all?
ATTORNEY: And in what ways does it affect your memory?
WITNESS: I forget.
ATTORNEY: You forget? Can you give us an example of something you forgot?
ATTORNEY: The youngest son, the twenty-year-old, how old is he?
WITNESS: He's twenty, much like your IQ.
ATTORNEY: Were you present when your picture was taken?
WITNESS: Are you shitting me?
ATTORNEY: So the date of conception (of the baby) was August First?
ATTORNEY: And what were you doing at that time?
WITNESS: Getting laid.
ATTORNEY: She had three children, right?
ATTORNEY: How many were boys?
ATTORNEY: Were there any girls?
WITNESS: Your Honor, I think I need a different attorney. Can I get a new attorney?
ATTORNEY: Doctor, before you performed the autopsy, did you check for a pulse?
ATTORNEY: Did you check for blood pressure?
ATTORNEY: Did you check for breathing?
ATTORNEY: So, then it is possible that the patient was alive when you began the autopsy?
ATTORNEY: How can you be so sure, Doctor?
WITNESS: Because his brain was sitting on my desk in a jar.
ATTORNEY: I see, but could the patient have still been alive, nevertheless?
WITNESS: Yes, it is possible that he could have been alive and practicing law.
ATTORNEY: Are you qualified to give a urine sample?
WITNESS: Are you qualified to ask that question?

ATTORNEY: How was your first marriage terminated?
ATTORNEY: And by whose death was it terminated?
WEARY WITNESS: Take a guess.
ATTORNEY: Can you describe the individual in the robbery?
EYEWITNESS: Young, twenty-five or so, hefty, medium height, heavy tattoos, with a beard.
ATTORNEY: Was this a male or a female?
EYEWITNESS: Unless the Circus is in town, I'm going with male.
SENIOR ATTORNEY: Is your appearance here this morning pursuant to the deposition notice which was sent to your attorney?
CRANKY WITNESS: No, this is how I dress when I go to work.
INVESTIGATING ATTORNEY: Doctor, how many of your autopsies have you performed on dead people?
TESTIFYING WITNESS: All of them. The healthy ones put up too much of a fight.
ATTORNEY (instructing the witness): All of your responses MUST be oral, okay? What school did you attend?
WITNESS (obeying): Oral.
ATTORNEY: Do you know the time that you examined the body?
EYEWITNESS: The autopsy started at around eight-thirty PM.
ATTORNEY: Are you sure Mr. Denton was dead at the time of the autopsy?
EYEWITNESS: If not, he was by the time we were finished.


FOOTNOTE: These encounters are found in the noteworthy new book "Disorder in the American Courts", and are true (questionably, says a cynic) things unwittingly said by attorneys and testifying witnesses in USA courts everywhere, transcribed neatly by court typists with notebooks who have the unique torment of having to stay attentive, sit there every day quiet as live statues, faces stony in anonymity, without objection, while those entertaining attorney-witness showdowns frequently take place.

Anyway, if I were a stowaway there, or a tiny fly on the court wall, I'd be in hysterics, eyelashes watery, eyeglasses foggy, having convulsions of laughter!!

[an error occurred while processing this directive]


Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

A eulogy to the great writing giant Dylan Thomas.

Written in nineteen-fifty-one, this 'rage'
poem is rated one of Thomas's
greatest; getting better, like wine, with age.

To his dying dad, in this ode, he yells
"Do not let go! Rant, rant against this death!"
Begging, egging, nagging, in verse-villanelle.

It's a clarion call to everyone,
in the dogged battle to dodge the grave,
that, if you don't fight it, then death has won.

Although a hellraising binger, Dylan
was terrorised by the thought of his death,
yet he embraced hard whisky and hot women.

He glugged his way to New York, USA,
the Golden Boy of rhyme, drunk on acclaim;
though not tough in health, he lived for the day.

Debauched, and haggard on bottles of Scotch,
the raging man was dragged, groggy and nagging
into 'that good night' long before his time.
The booze had won. He died aged thirty-nine.

[an error occurred while processing this directive]


Geometry by X.J. Kennedy

They say who play at blind man's buff
And strive to fathom space
That a straight line drawn long enough
Regains its starting place
And that two lines laid parallel
Which neither stop nor swerve
At last will meet, for, strange to tell,
Space throws them both a curve.

Such guesswork lets my hopes abide,
For though today you spurn
My heart and cast me from your side
One day I shall return;
And though at present we may go
Our lonely ways, a tether
Shall bind our paths till time be through
And we two come together.

[Below, the poem 'Geometry' is anagrammed into a sonnet about the romantic power of a duet, which also functions as a word-length mnemonic for the first 78 digits of Pi:
It's written in Basic Pilish, which means that the 0's are represented by 10-letter words. Enjoy!]

Can a duet, a shiny pageantry
Of valued worth and sober symmetry,
Transpire somehow overnight and be
The catalyst that grants me worthy glee?
Her raw proposal and my loyalty
Establish power, saturating me,
Exposing melodies that I oppressed
Beneath a shrewd restraint, now powerless.
Forthwith the bashful works I castigated
Would struggle on, completely liberated;
Through that unearthly luck, that agony
Dissolves in the delightful harmony!
Although I feared that monumental trance,
We joyfully submit to Consonance.