There's one I really want to see here, but don't remember all of, and can't find in the archives. It was written for a departing player; here are the two lines I remember:
How far can self-reference be taken, without being lame?
Hail to the glory of this is not a name.
Ode to Ackanomic
(or, Does the Gumball lose it's flavour on the bedpost overnight?)
Oh, Ackanomic, what a s trange twisted game you are
Stranger than Scrabble or Monopoly by far
With rules about rules which conflict with each other
Like parts of some strange constitution, all scrambl'd together
Ah, gleaming Gumball, and little twisted Voting Gnome
To honour thee I would compose a Palindrome
On Trombone I'd serenade thee if the rules did but allow
but such things might be Protected, so I'll end now.
Literary Heritage of AckaNomic
Rescued from the Google cache of the now defunct Poet Laureate page at 
http://www.logan18.freeserve.co.uk/acka/laureate.html
This page records some of the more notable outpourings of the citizens of Ackanomic. Men (and occasionally women) who have felt the need to pour out their souls in the medium of the creative literary arts, which have all too often come acoss as the demented ramblings of a serial killer. Government agents take note, here in these pages may be found the first stirrings of the psychotic mind.
King Felix's Phoebe post
In the last day or two I had a strange visitation which in my quiet hours I have laid down in verse. I present it here for all Ackans to make of what they will.
'The Rime of the Ancient Nanotech'
While searching through my home one day,
I made a curious find
(For no entities dwelt within my house
For it was undefined).
A tiny little matchbox
Coloured mostly red and blue.
No matches could be found inside -
It was far from being new.
Instead, inside, all I could find
Was a shiny little flea
Who stood right up on it's short hind legs
And began to speak to me!
"Sire," it pronounced aloud,
"Or whatever you're called today,
All acka would surely be destroyed
If you could have your way."
"I fear thee, ancient nanotech
I fear thy shining frame!
And scaremongering is not your job,
Haven't you read the rules of this game?"
"Don't talk back!" she quickly snapped,
"And stop this Coleridge talk.
I have wisdom to impart to you,
I'm not one that you should mock."
"The rules," she said quite assuredly
"Don't need to be retracted,
Just write things that are voluntary
So no players are contracted
"To have to take an active part
In each and every piece of harf.
More things like sub-games and the like
So the players can have a larf."
"That was a painful rhyme," I said,
"I thought you were supposed to be wise."
"You're the one shooting for laureate!"
And she poked me in both eyes.
I staggered around in considerable pain
Searching for a non-existent sink
To wash my eyes, and see again
Yet all I could do was blink.
When finally I began to see
And my vision slowly cleared
I looked around for the little f...flea.
She had completely disappeared.
Limerick Duel (Winner: JT)
'else...if'
All sensible Ackans take note
JT might have reason to gloat.
Though he's since sent out word:
"That election's deferred"
That's okay: JT still has my vote.
'JT'
There was a young fellow from Acka
By name of else...if, he's no slacker.
He called for this duel,
but now looks the fool,
as I gave my support to his backer.
else...if's "scaremongering"
A message from your Scaremonger, to the tune of "The Ballad of Sweeny Todd":
Attend the tale of number oh.
We should have abandoned it long ago.
No other number could survive
When by zero it was multiplied.
Although it had nothing to add,
It's tale is sad:
The demon number of Acka.
It tried to reach out to others too:
Not what a number ought to do.
Finally it became a third,
By 3 to 3, a vote absurd,
From else,
From foolish else,
The Evil Math Troll of Acka.
Cut those numbers down, zero,
Make them all like you!
If one-third equals zero,
Two-thirds does too!
In adding it was just a blank:
Nothing would grow, but nothing shrank.
Subtracting too was just the same:
It had no value to its name
Its value was infinitesimal,
'Twas really null.
The demon number of Acka.
Inconspicuous zero was,
Almost nonexistant it was.
Amost a circle, perfect ellipse
All other numbers zero would eclipse.
Zero plotted and zero planned,
Like the number it was it planned.
Zero's revenge was not denied,
We all know what happens when zero divides:
Zero was smooth, zero was clever,
Zero would be the only number ever:
Inconspicous zero was,
Quick and quiet a plan it was,
A truly evil number it was,
Was zero,
Zero!
Zero!
Zeeeeeerooooooo!
Attend the tale of number oh,
It did what it should have done long ago.
All the others have been multiplied,
They've srunk inside
To zero,
To number oh,
The demon number of Acka.
The Ballad of Party Chess (First published in Kolot Ackanomic, http://www.muppetlabs.com/~breadbox/acka/hist/kolot.html)
There is a board in Party Hall; sing rickety-tickety-tin.
There is a board in Party Hall, and on it armies rise and fall.
'Tis a miracle 'tis used at all --
For the game that could never begin, begin
For the game that could never begin.
Sir Flychuck sent an RFC; sing rickety-tickety-tin.
Sir Flychuck sent an RFC, 'twas analyzed quite heatedly,
And then he passed proposals three--
But to think that was all is a sin, a sin
To think that was all is a sin.
For on a trip he went away; sing rickety-tickety-tin.
For on a trip he went away, and then again returned one day.
To find a game he could not play--
For the rules had passed without men, no men
The rules had passed without men.
The men were made, and that was great; sing, rickety-tickety-tin.
The men were made, and that was great, but still the game was stalemate,
For no one wished to moderate--
And the rules needed written again, again
The rules needed written again.
These rules, to some, seem'd paradox'd; sing rickety-tickety-tin.
These rules, to some, seem'd paradox'd, and to them jurisprents flocked,
All Party Chess's chances rocked--
All seeking a paradox win, a win
All seeking a paradox win.
The paradoxen were unmade; sing rickety-tickety-tin.
The paradoxen were unmade, but then Malenkai CFJ'd;
The court said, "It cannot be played--
Go rewrite the rules again, again
Go rewrite the rules again"
The rules were fixed, or so thought we; sing rickety-tickety-tin.
The rules were fixed, or so thought we, but then came Swing'rs and Gravity,
So crazy did the whole thing be--
You would think we were all frinking gin, yes gin
You would think we were all frinking gin.
And now the game's on solid ground; sing rickety-tickety-tin.
And now the game's on solid ground, and now new pieces do abound,
And so we say don't stand around--
Oh, become a Swinger; join in, join in
Yes, become a Swinger; join in.
And if you do not like my song; sing rickety-tickety-tin.
And if you do not like my song, you yourself are in the wrong,
You've yourself to blame if it's too long--
You should never have let me begin, begin
You should never have let me begin.