Word Garden Word List--Full Dark, No Stars

 

Hello my late-summer flowers! Speaking for myself, I am delighted to see August turn to its latter days and the temperature turn cooler. I am ready for pumpkins and witches! Okay, so I am rushing things, and depending on where you are you may be longing for spring instead. No matter! Our source this week comes from that master of the macabre, Stephen King!

I have chosen his 4-story collection Full Dark, No Stars. It's a good one, though--as the title suggests--dark as can be. Your poems need not be dark unless you want them to be, though!

What we do here is to use at least 3 of the 20 words provided in a new, original poem of our own. Then simply link up, visit others, and then relax until you hear something strange rattling in the closet or at your window in the night. Bwahahaha! This prompt remains active through Sunday. 

And now, your List!

Care Bears

crow

faded

flummoxed

funny

gingerly

hidey-hole

hucksters

lemonade

magazines

mournful

oak

overhead

possible

potions

pretty

snared

washing

wedding

wounded

Have fun!

Pardon My Doggerel

 

I never met Gregory Corso

but his words were Gasoline

to the engine of my mind.

I did meet Allen Ginsberg once.

He signed the books

whose Howl had assuaged my loneliness. 

Here is a picture of the two of them,

another random human,

and a dog.

The tv is silent, cowed by the presence

of such vagabond intensity.

Corso shares a sandwich as if it were a chapbook.

Whitman said that not one animal is respectable.

Neither are poets, but they understand appetite

for food, for love, for being here now.

Come closer. I will shed a poem on you and make a mess,

then smile as if I had done something fine

to the engine of your mind

to assuage your loneliness.

I will do for you as these others have done for me,

off the leash and across the page

down through all the days of my life. 

_______

for What's Going On? "It's Raining cats & Dogs."

Music: Jennifer Warnes and Leonard Cohen Song of Bernadette

Farm

 

The butter is hard--

the biscuit takes it like a punch.

Eat your crumbs, child.

The milk expands, exploding the jug.

Cold cows care for nothing,

least of all the farmer's hands blue on the udder. 

This is agri-business. There are rules.

The clerk is here to count the kernels.

 No kindness from crows hard and polished as obsidian.

The vane is a zig-zag escapee

shouting "Freedom!" from inside the wind's mouth

where white teeth worry at fogged-up windows.

Automated fakes pass out promises

in Dixie cups, hats bobbing like generator vent caps,

a rooster in every head, erupting with cold words. 

Paint the chickens black and white

and dress them in freezer bags like crunchy raincoats.

Salute the magpie, child,

for luck, your ribs bent into a horseshoe and nailed

above the big open door

where our policies are performed.

_______

for Word Garden Word List--Philip K. Dick

Word Garden Word List--Philip K. Dick

 

Hello my little Listies! This week our source is a 1974 dystopian novel by the late Philip K. Dick entitled Flow My Tears, the Policeman Said. Isn't that a great title?

Philip K. Dick

I love a good sci-fi story, but like the divide between fans of Star Trek (me) and Star Wars, I do not like sci-fi's dragon-happy cousin, fantasy. My personal tastes aside, what we do here is to use at least 3 of the 20 words provided in a new original poem of our own. Any subject, any style or form. Then just link up, visit others, and then sit and contemplate how the world around you is an illusion constructed by powerful shadow figures beyond imagining. Or, just read a PkD novel! This prompt remains active through Sunday.

And now, your List!

automatic

butter

choose

clerk

Dixie cup

escapee

fakes

fixed

fogged-up

frizzy

lucid

magpie

mandatory

puny

quibble

records

reincarnated

rules

shaken

slime

Lucy the Tiger-Human Hybrid

 Lucy, the tiger-human hybrid

litigated against the lab and strutted out one day

to a clatter of cameras and bright lights.

She's all about mid-century modern.

Her home is all in avocado and burnt orange,

even her skin between the stripes. 

She is uncommonly graceful

but life is awkward. Women won't let her

hold their babies for fear of bloody murder.

She has difficulty finding clothes that fit her.

Terrified clerks back away big-eyed, never thinking

of how these reactions hurt her. 

On a friend's birthday, Lucy jumped out,

shouting "Surprise!" and the friend fainted.

These snafus happen all the time.

"Sweet ink!" crows the hipster at the coffee bar,

She does not correct him. "And you must work out!"

He may be just the guy she's had in mind.

At Lucy's house, retro fashion reigns supreme.

She and the kittens groove to the Stray Cats. 

Her man is strictly cutting edge and avant-garde.

Life is so much better now, she says.

Things worked out thanks to lawyers and latte,

and the only thing she charges is her credit card.

________

for Word Garden Word List--Apathy.

Word Garden Word List--Apathy

 

Hello, my little cubicle rats! This week's Word List is taken from Paul Neilan's absolutely hilarious nihilistic absurdist novel Apathy.  I am sorry to be slightly late getting this posted, but a combination of health concerns and Olympics addiction delayed me just a bit. 

Paul Neilan

The protagonist in this novel compares two women he is sleeping with by saying that sleeping with one (to get a break on his rent) makes him feel like a clown, but sleeping with the other makes him feel like a clown sitting on a splintered floor, holding a gun and crying. The banality of a co-worker's chatter makes him drop to a knee, knowing he could now never have children. It's a crazy tale full of very funny hyperbole, hopeless weary observations, and completely ridiculous scenes and characters. 

What we do here is to use at least 3 of the 20 words provided in a new original poem of our own. Then just link up, visit others, and then give Paul Neilan a badly-needed hug. This prompt remains active through Sunday!

And now, your List:

avocado

awkward

bumbling

cartoon

circle

deaf

furiously

gibberish

guinea pigs

helicopter

hilarious

kittens

letterhead

madness

murder

parole

queen

terrified

thumbs-up

writhed

Black Roses

September in the city

and nobody knows you're here.

It's okay to walk down the boulevard

it doesn't care if you're sad or broke or queer

All the familiar faces

washed away in an angry rain

now you're here in September in the city

and you have to start all over again

The sun just over the pigeon roofs

is yours as much as anyone else's here

and black roses in a sidewalk garden

bless you as much as anyone, dear

September in the city

and god is in the windows and the leaves

you will be all right, for one more night

if you just remember to breathe

The sun just over the pigeon roofs

is yours as much as anyone else's here

and black roses in a sidewalk garden

bless you as much as anyone, dear.