Can a drabble
be written in poetic form?
I hear it’s wrong,
not the norm
to do such a thing with a drabble.
But, in the parable by Zak
there is always a lack
of detail upon the subject.
I object when I am told
“Behold! These are the rules!
To vary is only done by the biggest of fools!”
And, as you know,
I am one, so.
A hundred words here are written.
If you are not happy by that…
“Bite me!” I shall be bitten
if by my words
and how they are put
you are not smitten.
One hundred words.
How on Earth am I going to do that?
Can’t be done.
Nobody in their right mind would even try such an enterprise.
Mankind, myself included, is not ready for such strange writing formats.
What about crafting my words alphabetically using every letter of the alphabet four times? Missing zeds, obviously.
No, wouldn’t work – far too silly.
Perhaps, by seeking inspiration through prosaic research articles, productivity has potential.
Sadly, someone’s library ticket has recently expired.
Subsequent foraging readily confirms text books tell tall tales – destiny recommends: try again tomorrow.
“Still nothing to do with me.”
“Okay, you oiks! You rabble!
Let’s get to business;
we are going to write a drabble!”
They looked at me
with a glaze to their eyes,
questions on their lips,
and with a thought process clogging up the CPU.
“It’s a short story.” I explained – putting them out of their misery.
“One hundred words – no more, no less.”
They visibly relaxed. Most of them knew a hundred words.
“And to spice it up a little…”
They paused in their movements.
“… none of the words can be repeated.”
You could have dropped a pin and heard its screams as it fell.
Another Day, Another Drabble.
“What…?” I hear you ask “…is a ‘drabble’?” you conclude.
My task is to explain to you, in no more (and no less, or fewer – or whatever) than a hundred words. Which means I have to write a piece or work in ‘exactly’ one hundred words. No mean task.
“And why is it called a ‘drabble’?” you add.
Then phrase my answer thus:
A ‘drabble’ is named after Algernon Drabble, He invented the doormat in 1903; the Coir mat in 1807, and the drabble in 1909. It was upon a Wednesday afternoon, I think.
Not this one (Margaret Drabble)
One Zero Zero.
In binary, only four;
in normal numbers,
a whole lot more.
A century, after which the memory , decayed, fades.
A tenth of a millennium,
the blink of an eye.
Time, like numbers, passing quickly by;
one hundred Dalmatians, give or take;
the calories consumed
by just looking at a cake;
Bob Hope, reached a hundred not done
but, never went into a room 101;
there might be a hundred ways
to leave your lover,
not all of them for the good;
And can you name the bear who lives at 100, Acre Wood?