this way and that...
[For "When Pigs Fly" at Sunday Scribbling, and "globe" at One Word. And that's that.]calamine whirl,
tastee freez,
vigorous plasticity:
the over unders
come gift-wrapped,
if not warped at speeds
that best not comply,
reliance-heavy appliances
in the festoonery
of the tidy
buffoons. Admiral Peavy
thought otherwise,
with his salad bar
doubloons, lace-captured
down the alleys
of blue drizzle,
camping out
in the eagle's nest
of darkest La Grange.
Bedtime improves
the circulation,
a velvet rumpus for fools,
an easter gallivant for
fossils,
a sample bath for
Little Miss Plucky.
Labels: baptismal fonts, the new times new
posted by murat11 at 5:33 PM
20 Comments:
It reads so smoothly, but surreally ambiguous.
Oh my. So which "globe" are you talking about here? This poem is just so much fun. I love the tasty-freeze swirls in the picture (that might be baptismal fonts for the new times new), in which case the circulation was certainly improved once upon a bedtime during a foolish velvet rumpus on an easter gallivant, but yo' daddy and yo' mama ain't no fossils honey, or yo' sho' wouldn't be here now would ya', Little Miss Plucky!!
And of course, those thoughts just warp one's speeds and make one want to festoon the buffoons and celebrate, dance to the music of a crazy little Murat poem.
Stan: Force of habit.
Good morning, Teresa: I find that rhymes keep popping up, without even trying. I prefer it that way, though I'm still not sure it's a good thing.
Glad you had fun with this; it was fun to slide down, though halfway down I heard a voice say "What is this garbage?" and then I couldn't help myself, I had to finish it anyway.
I'm happy you caught on to the true identity of Little Miss Plucky. No fool you, Ms Girl.
Especially like the line "the over unders come gift wrapped"....
Thank you.
Well, you know what they say: One man's garbage is another person's treasure trove. Just ask the paper bag ladies... (like me).
On an even sillier note, this may be the reason things keep popping into your head. :)
http://eclectech.co.uk/mindcontrol.php
Have a terrific day.
Julie: You are most welcome.
Teresa: I think you're onto it: gotta get me a tinfoil hat! Of course, poet in me sez, "Better not!"
Weather's gorgeous over here. It is most terrific! Back atcha.
I like the last sentence, it certainly rings some truth to me. In this cold, bedtime has to improve circulation :)
How are you? Even though I'm not always here, I do check my google reader every day :)
I loved the tastee freez of oonery, swirls around the tongue when you read it out loud!
I say "Better not," too, or the world would be bereft of Murat poems, and that would be a sad, sad thing. But I did want you to know that you are not alone in having things popped into your head, and the Brits have found a defense against unwanted rubbish in the brain. They could be useful for the days when you don't WANT to rhyme or for the days when you are just itching for iambic pentameter a la Pope, and the free verse just won't stayed lassoed down. Then a little "Alcoa Chapeau," as one of my friends calls them, just might do the trick.
Glad it was a terrific day for you. I had a pretty good day myself, although writing my blog was not such a happy thing. I went round and round in circles for weeks about whether or not to write that story, but I think it did deserve to be told.
Love your beautiful blog =]
Great poem.
Aloha, Ms Mood! Bedtime is highly recommended. I wish I could send you some of our warmth, but according to the forecasters, we will be turning back to chillycold ourselves, just as I head into the hills with my ninth graders for three days of fun and not-so-sun.
I am well, and so happy to hear from you. I lay in bed this morning and came to the realization that, for all practical purposes, this school year is just about over. Strange notion for late February.
Very best wishes to you.
Dee: It gives me great pleasure to know that all this oonery is being recited up Paris-way. I am blessed.
Teresa: As you well know, the courage of your writing is an important witness for us all. I'm glad the labyrinth brought you round to writing the post.
Marinela: Thank for your lovely compliment.
Hey P! Man, this one’s packed with so many clickings from that brain pan of yours. But if you told me I could take only one thing away when I leave here, I’d take the chalky pink stain on my tongue from the calamine tastee freez. Good to be back over here finally. Feels like it always did, and I like it when no one fools with the good stuff : )
I am left with a feeling
of
your world through your experience
as I read the rolling rhythm of your words.
That you, Ms A? Frozen brain pan, perhaps. No need to choose here: you can take the whole thang. It's all festooned lagniappe.
Tammie: That world is definitely in there. Hope the ride isn't too queasy...
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