T-t-t-turkey!

ugh, sorry about the blurry image! bummer. :( today's poem was inspired by looking forward to my roommate cooking her first turkey tonight! although, after reading it, you will probably imagine that i considered this event with trepidation. I didn't. i have absolute confidence that the bird currently in our oven will turn out golden brown, moist, and delicious (it's already starting to smell lovely!)...it's just more fun to write poems about disaster :)
on another note, as of this time tomorrow i will BE ON VACATION!! heading home to wichita with daniel for a wonderful week of family and relaxation! :) soooo excited. Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

It's time to cook the turkey, dear,
(That tasty King of Birds!)
It isn't hard, it won't take long--
At least, that's what I've heard...
An hour later: smoke erupts
From where the fowl reclines,
The smoke alarm is howling, aargh!
I need a glass of wine!
Or maybe two, yes, two will do.
Now! Isn't cooking fun?
With bottle, baster, one poor bird
Who's slightly overdone...
They say his name was Tom. Poor Tom!
Let's mourn your wasted life!
Long days of gluttony cut short
Beneath the butcher's knife!
Another hour: drenched in tears,
Glass bottle yet in hand.
Oh, Tom! Poor blackened bird, Alas!
For everything you planned:
A poultry wife, three gobbling chicks,
Sweet quests for grubs and bugs...
I'm sorry, Tom! Forgive me, friend!
Accept this humble hug!
...But what can hugs and tardy tears
Do for a roasted bird?
As much (not much) as poetry,
And eulogistic words.

Monsters on Me Mind

Good afternoon! Today while driving home, i sniffed a smell like burning toast and two vehicles zipped around me...naturally, i was terrified that my car was on fire and going to blow up, so i drove along for a few blocks grimacing and craning my neck away from the dashboard. and then the smell dissipated. i'm so paranoid sometimes, my goodness. here is a poem about childhood fears...and how what you fear may actually be real...but not in the way you think. eh, it's not actually as deep as all that... :) enjoy!

Little does Lucinda know,
Despite her gnawing fear,
The monster underneath her bed
Is really, truly, Here...
It's me! My name is Moldymop,
The Monstrous Monster-Beast!
And I have scared a million children!
Well...I've tried, at least...
I'm pink, you see--that doesn't help--
And cursed with sweet brown eyes.
They think I'm just a bunny,
Though I'm twice a rabbit's size.
They pester me for Easter eggs
And chocolate--greedy brats!
And one (the worst!) caught hold of me
And made me wear a hat!
I didn't like the hat one bit.
It made my head look small.
So if I cannot scare this girl,
I'm quitting once for all!
My plan is to remain unseen,
For sight is my demise.
It's when I leap out from the bed
They laugh until they cry.
It's not My fault I'm cute and pink!
My heart and thoughts are vile!
And so, Lucinda's my last hope--
I've Got to scare this child!

One Goblin, Two Eyes

Good afternoon/early evening!
My house smells like cinnamon...pumpkin cookies fresh out o' the oven! Mmmmm....contentment. That, and a few certain other things are making life extra-extra right now :) extra enjoyable, that is. But i've been too busy to write much in the way of poetry! The blog is suffering, i fear. but...it's okay. anyway, here is a short poem about a Goblin named Grubbs, whose portrait hangs above:

Knobbly knees and calloused toes
And nails bit to nubs,
Are some more-pleasing aspects of
The goblin known as Grubbs.
His beard, a gnarly, wispy web
(And dripping, oft, with drink),
Must be his most repellent feature
(Foolish men might think).
But neither beard nor knobbly knees
Nor gnawed-on nails, nor toes
Are any where as close to hellish
As his ghastly nose.
You see, Grubbs' nose is crooked, green,
And caked with purple snot.
What's worse, it stands responsible
For all the kids he's caught.
Oh yes, grim Grubbs eats children--
What else Would a goblin munch?
(I hear he cannot taste them, he just
Loves to hear bones crunch!)
I guess I do not really need
To caution "Stay away!"
If you meet Grubbs...well, he's a goblin,
What more can I say?
His heart shines through his blood-shot eyes,
It's murderous and mad.
You'll be long-gone before he thinks,
"My, what a scrumptious lad!"
That is, as long as you sight Grubbs
Before he sniffs you out...
'Cause then your only hope is that
A strong man hears you shout!


And two poems written...last night?...or the previous. There was supposed to be a Green Eye poem as well, but it is unfinished. Also, the meter on the second works if you mispronounce "comfortably" (i.e., pronounce it how I usually do, 'comf-tor-bly'...ugh, that looks pretty awful :) poor English.

Brown Eye
Is a shadow, parched for light,
Retreating to the vagueness of regret.
Fog-comfort: Twisting freedom to become
Another being; blending into gray,
By Fear betrayed.

Blue Eye
Is a river that has met
The sea, and comes into its rest.
The rise-and-fall of tides, but comfortably,
The sparkling surface sheen, the deepening
Of blue plus blinding sunlight,
Ocean-green.

The End is Near! (Zombie Pirates Attack!)

Zombie Pirate!!! EEEEEEARGH! Dead Duck and Zombie Puppy missed their photo opp's...but this makes 5 out of 16 zombie felties completed! :)
I tried to write a sweet poem, but was having troubles. So here is a repetitive poem about the end of things (and an autumnal scene to accompany it!)...

Much will be erased today,
And much be over wrought.
Much more must be replaced today,
Forever and forgot.

A rope to be unwound tonight,
A star to disappear.
A lover will be left tonight,
For faithlessness (for fear).

And kisses kissed and arms embraced,
And palm caressing palm--
A blink, a flash, a madman's trick,
A storm...and then...a calm.

All About Alliteration!

Hello! Fate has gifted me with a taking-on of new responsibilities at work, and I feel like I haven't taken the time to write in awhile. Which may be, like, three days? Between the last post and this one, I wrote one sonnet describing a certain feeling of frustration...but it's terrible and shall never be found outside the...dark recesses of my journal :) seriously. It did, however, include the phrase "i punched a box of lettuce" which is true. Sometimes you just feel like punching things and a cardboard box of lettuce offers a resistant yet cushioned medium. Highly recommended, no damage done. Today's poems are barely that (poems, that is) but they are here for you nonetheless! Maybe they'll become and Alphabet series, but who knows. Here goes:

A Sentimental Snail slowly sobbed into his soup.
"Just eat it!" scolded Auntie. "Don't be such a nincompoop!"

Acrobatic Artisans are able to aspire
To baking bread while somersaulting through a ring of fire.

Terrified tarantulas are trembling, top to toe,
For piercing through the night, two frightful eyes just watch...and glow...

And just for ridiculousness, here is another start to an alphabetical poem that will never amount to anything :)

A is for Abommable...
Abomdamibble...Crap!
Okay, A's still for Apple, (or,
For those with iPhones, App).

Who's Bad With Names?

Good evening! Today's GREAT UNEXPECTED FIND at Borders: "Zombie Felties" by Nicola Tedman and Sarah Skeate! "How to raise 16 gruesome felt creatures from the undead". I started with Zombie Kitty and Classic Zombie :) like Daniel says, zombies are (can be) cute! the ones in the book look way more professional though :)
on a poem-related note, a recent quote from a wise friend: "People like it when you know their names." Oops. Guilty of name-forgetfulness...and name-neglectfulness (never getting up the 'courage' to ask for it in the first place. huh??). Here is a poem about a prince:

Once upon a time, a prince
Named Henry William James
Resided in a kingdom. He
Was very bad with names.
"How are you, Lady...pardon me!"
He'd blush and run away.
"Good morrow, Sir...uh...isn't this
A lovely, sunny day?"
He fretted over this, and often
Cried himself to sleep.
The King and Queen paid wizards to
Discover how to keep
A single name in their son's head--
But all their tricks were vain--
For how could one thus burdened
Ever hope to truly reign?
The servants would not show respect,
While courtiers would resent
Such seeming snobbery, and start
A war o'er this neglect!
Poor prince! He was a humble lad,
Quite bright--just bad with names...
Perhaps he'd have been better if
His own was simply "James."

Pizzadillas and Spunkanella!

Good afternoon! Here is a poem inspired by some adorable Halloween spider stickers that my roommate got for me. Oh, and I revisited a childhood favorite last night for dinner: Pizzadillas! Put a little bit of butter in a frying pan, let it melt, then lay a tortilla down, cover the tortilla with tomato sauce, a layer of pepperonis, and cheese. Place a second tortilla on top. Flip over when the first side gets golden brown and crispy, and cook second side until cheese is melted and tortilla is not burnt. Yum!! Fun!

Spunkanella Spider got
All tangled in her web.
She twisted, turned, and shouted till
Her strength began to ebb--
"Well, this is quite embarassing!
We're not supposed to die
By being trapped like this--these webs
Are meant for catching flies!
I wonder what the stone will say
That hovers o'er my grave?
'Here's Spunkanella Stupid Spider. She
Could not be saved
From her own tangled web, alas!
(Perhaps it's better so--
She had the fastest spinning legs,
But her poor brain was slow.)'"
A fly flew by and snickered, "Ha!
What irony! How droll!"
But Spunkinella glared him down,
And he trembled for his soul.
"I beg your pardon, madam! And
I meant no disrespect!"
"Then get me down! You (tasty), rude,
Free-flying little insect!"
The fly--you'd think him very dumb--
Approached the sticky strands.
"Now, if I let you go, you mayn't
Eat me--understand?"
"Of course I won't! Just hurry, please!"
The faint arachnid begged.
"And to make sure you don't, I'll free
All but a single leg--
I'll zip away while you unwind
That final 'prisoned foot,"
The fly informed, pragmatically.
His eyes shone black as soot.
"Oh, darn!" The spider muttered,
"I was hoping for a snack!
Ah well. Tomorrow, he'll forget
And come a-buzzing back!"