When poetry fails
to ignite up my senses
will a haiku do?
“Hey, Veronica, meet Veronica!”
“Oh, Veronica and I go way back, Veronica – don’t we Veronica?”
“Oh, yes, Veronica, as Veronica and I were saying, it must be twenty years or more.”
“Really, Veronica? That’s weird, because Veronica and I also go back to our teens (giggles).”
“Teens, Veronica? We are all the same age, as well you should know. All born on the twenty-month of February, 1948.”
“Which makes us…?”
“Seventeen!”
“Indeed.”
They laughed.
Bob was hobnobbing;
offering Hob-Nobs
to other bobs;
he also liked bob-a-job week.
See here for Linda’s website and the rules for #SoCS
Take one word, ‘Take’ for example and follow it with a second word, perhaps ‘one’; then end that section with the word ‘word’.
Once you have done this, explain the process that you have followed to get you to that point.
Allow time for the words to melt together,
i.e. ‘Takeoneword’
or ‘Tkaoeenowdr’.
Then consider the life choices that you have made up to now, and that have placed you in the unenviable position that you now find yourself in.
Copy a famous quote from a book into another format, perhaps sign language, and use pictograms to represent the key elements of that quote.
Then forget that you have done this.
Then forget what you have to do next.
Await instruction from a higher plane or plain.
Seek nothing, find everything, or seek everything and find nothing, depending on the day of the week it is, or will be.
Limit yourself to one a day.
Avoid rules like the plague.
Avoid the plague.
Avoid things that aren’t, but could be, the plague.
Do not pass GO.
End up in jail.
Cross the road to get to the other side.
Ask a chicken why it did this – if it has.
Build upon your experiences to capitalise upon your lack of knowledge.
Paint the town Blue.
Sing an unknown song in the key of E minor.
Plead guilty to something.
End all your spoken sentences with the word ‘Pangolin’.
Look but don’t see.
Always leave things…
Posted in Poetry
It’s 4:30 in the afternoon,
and, soon, it will be 4:31;
I only have less than a minute to write this…
but, sadly, it couldn’t be done.
It’s 4:32 in the afternoon…
Nobody likes me,
everybody hates me,
just ‘cause I eat words;
long thin hairy ones,
short fat juicy ones,
bite all the sense off,
take all the meaning out,
is what I do with words.
“Gravity’s working!”
I tried it again, today –
still working;
and the Earth still feels round,
though how I can tell it is
is liable to confound
the literal mind.
I find that,
things do and don’t change
from day
to day,
although I have to say –
or write –
that it may not have always been this way.
Gravity’s working,
and my feet are firmly upon the ground,
whilst my mind is drifting away.
 | The Febrile Imaginin… on “What do you mean by ‘just’ a… |
 | InfiniteZip on “What do you mean by ‘just’ a… |
| The Febrile Imaginin… on Bob |
 | Riverside Peace on Bob |
| The Febrile Imaginin… on “Gravity’s working!” |
