I used to know a guy in Michigan
He asked me if I would like to go sailing with him some weekend
I asked what kind of boat
He said he used a pickup truck not a boat
I thought that was weird
What lake I asked
No lakes, garages he said
His name was Bruce
This is a true story
p.s. I don’t know about e.e., he probably won’t be capitalizing
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I suck at poetry, so this challenge by Chelsea Owens is perfect.
Where have you gone,
can you not see me,
hear me, feel me near?
Why are you so still,
so very quiet,
unlike you, like this?
something is amiss, Dear.
I cannot see, touch, nor hear,
just sense cold, an absence,
you’re no longer here.
I don’t know what to do,
but I cannot stay,
like this, without you.
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I don’t often try poetry, but when I saw this image, Woman with Long Hair by Man Ray (1929), and read my friend Björn Rudberg’s (real poet) poem RAPUNZEL’S MIRANDA… I knew I wanted to try something. The old photograph immediately reminded me of Graceland Cemetery in Chicago, a deep sadness came over me and I felt a sense of loss.
So, here’s my entry for Kerry O’Conner’s Real Toads ~ Camera Flash!
A DRABBLE POLITICK… with apologies to my friend Björn Rudberg (a real poet)
“Oh no, something is out-of-order I fear!”
“What possibly can be wrong, Father Dear?”
“You are leaning to the Right,
Your education has a Blight.”
“But, I’m graduating Today,
I must make my own Way.”
“Why can you not See,
That you should follow Me?”
“Because you see Blue and I see Red,
Does not mean I’m off in the Head.”
“Oh no, your mind is Fine,
I just mean, your path should be Mine.”
“Father, if Truth be Told,
Your ways be Old.”
Dear Daughter, I thought you would be Arty,
What is with this Tea Party?”
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Well… Where did This come from??? I don’t write poetry. But I’m always inspired when I read Björn Rudbergs Writings, a must for all Poesyphiles.
Of course, the photo of where I am sure Jennifer Pendergast walked the ‘Hallowed Halls’… not sure if it’s Oxford or Cambridge… was the inspiration.
For other stories about Jen’s photo… FRIDAY FICTIONEERS
RAT RACE… A Nursery Rhyme in 33 words
Life becomes struggle,
To juggle these days.
How did it happen,
I’ve entered a maze.
They say pills have helped,
Ones that they gave.
I’m really not sure,
If I will be saved.
I wanted to write something in 33 words, since I missed the recent Trifextra. I decided to try a poem. After I wrote it, I didn’t know what form it was, so I consulted the Noted Scandinavian Poet, Björn Rudberg (who nosed out ‘you know who’, to claim first post this time). He said it reminded him of a nursery rhyme format, and that was good enough for me… I liked it. Björn also gave me a few other tips. If you liked it… Thank you. If you didn’t… Blame Björn.
Plague Rat Illustration by Emily Veinglory
Alice in Underland
alice, from the depths of madness,
can you see the light of day?
can you, dearest, hear my sadness,
know the words i cannot say?
Liddell, Alice; not so little,
little alice in the middle,
alice you must run away,
and live to play another day.
dream of hatters, dream of rabbits,
duchesses with nasty habits,
playing cards with double faces,
frantic dodos running races.
lift your glasses, raise a toast,
roast meet alice, alice meet roast.
guest at the table, new-made queen,
in circumstances unforeseen.
if life is Chess, then this is Life,
chaos strewn with pain and strife,
moving her from square to square,
pretending she was never there.
see her hiding from old fears,
or drowning in her own salt tears,
or running panicked through the wood,
where names (and minds) are gone for good.
through the mirror, racing past,
a stranger in my…
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young Watchmaker’s girls,
home from school patiently pose,
in clothes neatly pressed.
so long ago watches cleaned,
only buck fifty the fee,
but, gassed up the car.
little black Austin Bantam,
family of six fit inside,
they must have been squished.
Once again, it’s Haiku Time. This week’s prompt from Quill Shiv, was to find a photo of children and be inspired… http://quillshiv.wordpress.com/2012/03/20/haiku-bombers-prompt-3/
I chose this family photo, from I would guess circa 1930. My Grand father was a watchmaker, jeweler, optician, and railroad watch inspector in Sacramento. This was the family car and I’ve quite a few photos of it. My grandparents had 5 kids, and my father would drive all the kids to school in it. As you can see, it is quite small. When he was in high school, as a prank, his friends carried it up to the stage before an assembly, and left it there. My aunts Laura and Emily pose above with the Austin Bantam auto, and my grandfather Theodore is below, probably repairing a watch or two.
The prompt is REFLECTION…
looking in the pool
behind my eyes, I try to see
why for am I here?
Well, that’s my effort. I hope it’s a Haiku… not sure really. I don’t know what one is to be honest, and reading the Wiki explanation made me more confused than ever. I had heard the term and read some. I liked them, I think. I will tell you one thing… I have not thought of ‘syllables’ for 50 years. So, I am happy I tried, and will try to learn more about Haikus.
The Haiku Bomber is responsible for my sudden poetic turn…
Do have a look at Quill Shiv’s challenge and maybe you will find your inner haijin.
The photo is by Michal Fanta…