if its not yummy, then we better make it funny.

Saturday, August 23, 2008

Creative Writing Poetry

This was an exercise to avoid the most common words/ images for ocean or beach outings and still convey the ocean.

Following son and daughter along aquatic shelf
It pounds in, pulls out.
churns up froth
the squealing and leaping
is infectious
I finally leave adult behind
and charge and recede from
the walls of water moving in
clean and invigorating and
Horizon of blue and white
promises never to stop.

Here is another one, possibly called prose poetry.

Little dogs and candles

I remember little dogs
Trixy, the black one who might bite.
So be careful.
Then there was Buffy,
the dirty toy poodle.
Also a little unfamiliar with kids.
My sister and I never got too friendly.
Then there was Hoot,
or should I say Hoots.
My grandparents sequence of Scottie dogs.
Some Hoots were friendly
and liked their
stocky wiry backs scratched
and their heads pat.
Others emitted slow low growls.

I remember my other grandma's house
half on land, half over the canal.
You could sleep outside on the deck and hear the sea creatures
between the laps of the waves.
Grandma had a full cookie jar and delicious dinner.
Often within the glow of candles
in hanging muliticolored glass lanterns.

And finally, there is there is untitled one
(from some convoluted prompt at a workshop)

Long day
melodramatic fishing pole
all bite but no catches
Search a new lead
from the quaint box

Fishing makes me hungry
pampas apple I brought sits there
Id rather have chocolate.

When I get home
I pass the serene watermelon
and go straight for
my languid corkscrew.

Oh one more, what the heck! An "I prefer" poem

I prefer wandering to storming
I prefer pomegranates
I prefer old unusual garments
I prefer listening
to speaking profusely
I prefer an old bicycle to a new car
I prefer cobbler
I prefer cherries
I prefer many short visits
I prefer to pay my own way
I prefer the song of waving trees
I prefer the smiling dishwasher
to the hauty maitre d'
I prefer lots of water
I prefer more of what I prefer
I prefer unsolicited affection.

This one is a bit of a riddle


Walking through the darkened park
nervous clammy hands choking me.
Who else is here?
What will I be required to do
if hostile forces converge...
Through trees and fountains
barely breathing until safely
released in warm allied surrounds
Used eventually,
just to cut the cake.

This really will wrap up the poetry session today...

How to get to the blamket

How to get to blanket
First, go back to where you
started the day.
Whip off the blanket, tear away
the sheets.
Launder them,
careful not to mix darks and lights.
Read the care instructions.
Cold means cold.
Scrub, soak, rinse repeat
Hold up to the light
If the weather's fair
hang up the lot.
If not,
make a crazy fort
suspend the corners horizontally.
Chop the wood,
split the kindling,
crumple the paper.
Strike a match
Stoke and stoke
the fire.
Peel off your clothes,
wipe away the sweat.
Keep going.
Turn and check
suspend and circulate.
Split, chop, stoke,
put on your coat
out to the shed for more wood
split, chop, stoke, rotate
Fluff, feel fold.
Fashion your bed
hospital corners, fold down
into your pajamas
and get to the blanket!

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