Hello all. Today we were to be inspired by the shapes of letters. Some say snakes look like their first letter, but I only know of one animal that spells its name.
OWL
Hello all. Today we were to be inspired by the shapes of letters. Some say snakes look like their first letter, but I only know of one animal that spells its name.
OWL
Hello All. A short poems of idioms, not about shorts.
He said, She said
I’m going to beat the pants off him
He said.
Just try not to bore the pants off him
She said.
You could charm the pants off him
He said.
When many a mickle makes a muckle?
She said.
He, was speechless.
Hello all. The people at NaPoWriMo were feeling very International today. So they asked us to find a poem, not in our language, and then translate it by sound. I found the poet Charles Ducal, who writes in Dutch. I also learned he was a farmer, as well as a poet, so I used that to aid my translation.
VOERTIJD
By Charles Ducal
Tussen slapen en waken
in vleesgeworden beton
een eerste oor licht hoort naderen
een eerste keel gromt
opklim van aanslaande rompen
naar onuitstaanlijk gekrijs
in rukriemen vastgebonden
vlokschuim en ziedend kwijl
meester honger langsrijdt
en stort in de troggen
zijn meelwagen huilen herleidt.
tot ondergronds zingend geslobber
alsof zich iets menselijks bevrijdt.
It’s hard to wake up
In the early morning light
To begin the world brand new
To begin old again
The gate I untie
Near the cold open stalls
The cows gathered together
Their gaze has no questions
Mister Hog lazes
Not ready to move from his enclosure
Until the meal wagon arrives at him
Then the ground is wet with slobber
I too am ready for a drink
Hello All! Today’s prompt is to write about a hand made gift we have received. It was a good prompt.
Everyday
Everyday, just like everyday, so everyday we are here.
Everyday he makes do with what we have
And what he makes, makes what we have seem just right.
The surveys during the day, inquisitions in the fridge.
What’s leftover? Who’s expiration date? Why is this still here?
He stocked up three weeks ago, going on four.
How he comes up with three meals a day, I can not say.
Everyday, maybe like everyday, so everyday he plans.
Rubbing hands together he schemes his schemes,
Mind turning as he turns what’s left into what’s great.
Baby carrots decorate lunch plates of lunch meats.
Some things used sparingly, ramen the spare food for later.
Fake eggs slipping into pancake batter better than no eggs at all.
Everyday, not like everyday, so everyday he cooks.
Left over steak remake with a pair of potatoes,
Joined by a glass of wine wins hearty on a cold night.
The next morning, lifting one of the last ten eggs,
Scrambled up a yellow splash topping tip top hash,
Breakfast of champions for the champion dishwasher.
Everyday, not like everyday, so everyday is special.
Hello All and Happy Sunday. A busy day here at Stay-at-home land, so I did not have time to form the collection called for by the prompt. But I still managed to write.
Art Glass
Little grey glass manatee,
How I wonder about thee.
An unlikely blob with fins,
Color of old ash in the bins.
Smooth, glossy, heavy as brass,
Some consider you art glass.
Yet sadly it’s a little true
You look like a pile of hot melt glue.
But please manatee, do not dismay,
For proudly you are on display.
A place of honor, not derision,
Just to the right of the television.
Your shiny vagueness no one can top,
Our special victory in a Yankee swap.
Hello all. The prompt today was to write an ode to life’s small pleasures. There are so many that call out to be included, but today it is –
The Breeze
The bliss of a breeze
Is the softness on the skin.
The head draws toward it,
Birds and beasts,
Good dogs and bad.
The nose lifts up to take in the air,
As the leaves rattle and flash
And grasses sway and swing.
The nose pulls in the new air,
Catching it before it has a chance
To caress a cheek without telling a tale.
Hello all. Today’s prompt, a poem about old technology. So without further ado, I give you a sonnet.
Sonnet to a #2 Pencil
Oh number two pencil where for art thou?
Why did the modern world forsake you so?
We could not say you had failed us some how,
Still you were a victim of the times you know.
So easy to purchase in small packets
Your six sided honeycombs of graphite
Sturdy in your yellow wooden jackets
Bright pink erasers ripe with foresight.
With a sharp point your line was dark and fine,
Or soft and wispy when rubbing broadside.
Versatility you had by design
And your popularity was worldwide.
Your downfall fine friend, why you have been tossed,
Eraser too small, and sharpener lost.
Hello All. Yesterday’s poem was a big job, so I was feeling kind of minimalist today. But the prompt was a poem about someone or something you love. So this is short, but the feelings are long.
Singing in the Rain
You can always make me smile
Nothing but happy
Hello All. Half way through poetry month. So far I have made it, though not without a struggle here and there. Today’s prompt was to write a poem based on a favorite piece of music. I chose a piece that we woke up to many a morning.
Carnival of Venice Trumpet Solo
Three Corners has my Hat
And If it had not Three Corners
Then it would not Be my Hat.
Dad’s trumpet woke us up each morning.
He would play this loud and clear.
He’d start us off with the credenza.
It’s the first thing we would hear.
Variation 1
My-a Hat it ha-as Three Co-o-o-orners
Thre-e-e corners ha-as my-a ha-at
And if if it had not thre-e-e- co-o—rners
It-it wou-old not be-e my ha-at
Variation number one the trilling would begin to start
You would Know that he was having fun playing his art
Tiddle-di-la, Tiddle-di-dum you can blame Herbert L Clark
He was the one, after all, who originated this part.
Variation #2
My-y-y Ha-a-at ha-a-as thre-e-e co-o-orn-ers
Thre-e-e co-o-orners ha-a-as my-y ha-a-at.
A-a-and if i-i-it ha-a-ad no-ot thre-e-e co-o-orners,
The-en i-i-it wou-ou-uold no-ot be-e-e my-y ha-at.
Variation number two did double tonguing which made each line a complicated thing.
You Have to Know that he was working hard to do this in the very early morning.
He played this in our entrance hall so the whole house would begin to ring.
But it was everything that we could do to just to try to keep on sleeping.
Variation #3
My-y-i-a ha-a-ata ita ha-ha-has thre-e-e- co-o-o-orners.
Thre-e-e-e Co-o-o-orners ha-ha-has my-a-i ha-a-ata.
A-a-and i-i-if i-i-it ha-ha-had no-o-ot thre-e-e-e co-orners
I-i-it wo-ou-ould no-o-ot be-e-e-my-y-y ha-ha-ha-hat!
The triple tonguing starts with this variation in a way that is so very pizzicato and strange,
That it made you want to roll over except it was way to loud to really make a change,
And there was something that made you want to see if he could make the range
Or if all the triplets and tonguing would make his whole effort just derange
The extra notes, in each line, make it amazing, to get through.
The melody stays strong, through it all, though how, I haven’t a clue,
But as a morning serenade, it was a lot, for him to do.
By now you understand that the song continues to grow.
The complications keep becoming more monumental,
That playing it at all, is a really super human feat,
And not one that you should ever try before you eat.
If you want to hear this piece in the way it should be heard,
The Winton Marsalis version on YouTube is really the word.
We were up by the time it got to this part of the song
So if he said “Son-of-a bitch”, we knew what had gone wrong.
Hello All. If you know anything about me you know I love Ogden Nash poetry. Today’s prompt was to be inspired by one of our poetry inspirations. I reference a number of poems in the piece. At the bottom I will put links to all I can find, both Nash and others.
An Ode to Ogden Nash
It started with a Robert Louis Stephenson twin bill.
Oh how I do love the swinging poem still.
And the little shadow who went in and out with me
Is still the way that every shadow I now see
Then AA Milne was added to the mix,
Clever as clever, after all I was six.
I finally joined Frost in the woods, then Angelou,
Billy Collins, Shakespeare and Mary Oliver too
But it was when Ogden Nash came along
That my love of poetry became lifelong.
His verses are almost always in my head
From the early morning until I’m in bed.
His short animal poems were the gateway,
A many varied menagerie he did portray.
It’s where I learned the two ways to spell llama
And how to rhyme it with silk pajama.
His little instructions were readily viewed
As in “celery stewed is more easily chewed”.
Many of his lessons my parents applied
Like “cross children walk, cheerful children ride”.
As each decade flew by I thought I’d grow out him
Then ever few years learned there was more to know him.
His parlor manor poems, as a kid made my eyes roll,
But when reached my forties, they had become so droll.
Don’t think that humor was his only art,
He also wrote with a lot of heart.
Please Pass the Biscuit is a longtime favorite.
If you like dogs at all, I think you will savor it.
Its not just his topics that engaged my mind
But also how the poems were designed.
Clever usage of words, like the stuffy honorarium,
He easily rhymes with the Boston Aquarium
For Nash words were not an impediment
Just something to be mixed with the sediment.
If a word he needed did not exist
He just made one up to get the gist
He wrote 500 pieces which is a treasury
Of observation, humor and the 20th century.
He gave us a slice of the world as he knew it,
Without Google or Rhymezone, how’d he do it?
Robert Louis Stephenson
The Swing. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43166/the-swing-56d221dc6ffc4 My Shadow https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43196/my-shadow
AA Milne
When I was One https://www.scholastic.com/content/dam/teachers/lesson-plans/migrated-files-in-body/grade_pdfs_may_poem.pdf
Robert Frost
On A Snowy Evening. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/42891/stopping-by-woods-on-a-snowy-evening
Ogden Nash
The lama. https://compendium.vuduc.org/poem94.html
Celery. https://internetpoem.com/ogden-nash/celery-poem/
I’ll Take the High Road Commission (sorry could not find an easy link)
Please Pass the Biscuit. https://archives.newyorker.com/newyorker/1942-09-19/flipbook/024/