Reanimated Lavender Granola Switchblade Nun rides again.

Thursday, May 1, 2014

My New Poem

okay...what to write about? I'll try a warm-up exercise. People say they help...

beautiful haiku

you sit there and

oh hell, I hate haiku! "The fucking flower/ blah blah blah" Puke. How about something about a beautiful princess? Yes!  I'll model her after the lovely and captivating Ms. X, model of feminine perfection!

In the land of the unicorn,
through the flower-strewn fields
came a beautiful princess, who--
oh DAMN, what idiot decided to put steps here! I can't even see them because of all these stupid flowers. If I just--ack! Whoa, fallinggggggggggg! Whew, that was close, I just barely caught my balance in time. *snifffff* Okay, what's that? *lifts shoe* Oh frack, unicorn crap. Ugh! 

Or not. I know...I'll try something with deep mystical significance!

The wise and highly respected Swami
kept being undone by vulgar physical matters.
Looking in the mirror one day just before a seminar,
he saw that, beneath his long flowing beard, he had
~gasp!~
face dandruff!

With no time to spare, he went out and gave his presentation
on the mysteries of the universe,
but at the meet-and-greet afterglow party,
all Swami could think about was the offending flakes.
"Hello, yes, bless you, peace! Namaste!" he said to everyone, but
all the time, he could almost feel the nasty little flakes on his face expanding,
becoming huge,
turning his wise visage into a ridiculous snowstorm!

Swami began pretending to stroke his chin thoughtfully,
but soon,
he was speaking to people from behind both hands,
mumbling incomprehensibly, and half turning away.
"Swami, what's wrong?"
All his years of traveling, learning, fasting and studying,
wasted because of face dandruff!

Calling on all of his resolve, Swami lowered his hands, smiled,
and faced his well-wishers again.
Such lovely pilgrims, how could he have ever...

And then he felt it.
He was going to pass wind, and loudly. Oh no!

Shay Caroline, maybe this just isn't your morning to write. After all, April is done with, not that you even tried  to write a poem a day. NooOOoo. 23 poems is not 30. Would Christina Rossetti sit around in her bathrobe, whining "I can't thiiiiiiink of anythinggggggggggg"? C'mon, at least crank out a haiku.   

Cat Haiku

beautiful trash bin

heaped with stinky fish skellies

puts flowers to shame

Aw, damn I'm good!

   

8 comments:

  1. I can always count on you to have me grinning from one ear to another. Had to giggle over unicorn crap . . . never thought about it but of course they poop too . . . and face dandruff, love it.

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  2. Laughin all the way to unicornland and back. Flowers--they are just everywhere, like the haiku plague. Not that I mind a good haiku, but people don;t seem to understand that's it's as hard to write a good haiku as it is to write a good sonnet or anything else--it isn't just a celebration of being able to count 5-7-5 and chew gum at the same time.

    Love your tags!

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  3. I SO needed this laugh this morning! I rike fwowa.....you are so hilarious.

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  4. Unicorns don't crap, they . . . oh, fuck it.

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  5. Emmylou called .. she loves this ~~ haiku and all!

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  6. ...indeed, you are good. Too good for words. LOL! I'd kill to have your talent. My brain is post-Menopausal mush.

    I was telling my grandson (who's leaving for college in the fall) that I used to get a quarter for allowance...and buy a comic book, a bag of sugar babies, an RC Cola and a moon pie and have a nickel left over. He looked at me like I was 90 years old instead of a youthful 59. LOL! Thanks for the smiles. xo

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Spirit, what do you wish to tell us?