Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Random Interlude

I guess the adage is true: Time does indeed fly when you're having fun.

I just realized how long it's been since I've posted on the blog, and thought I'd drop by so you could see what condition my condition was in. (Two points to whoever understands that lyrical reference.)

It's been a busy week for me, between the two jobs, cleaning up the yard in preparation for winter, readying the house, and having one of my molars (with long-ass roots, let me tell you) pulled the other day. My face feels like I got kicked by a mule. Thank God for Vicodin. It puts me to sleep, but at least it stops the pain.

I've also (when conscious) been spending a bit more time at ThePoetSanctuary, enjoying the fact that I'm actually not the worst poet in the world, or even on the net. I know most people don't really have a care for poetry, but I like it as a form of expression, and when I'm flying on those pain pills the poetry can be quite a trip. :) (Disclosure: I'm not big on any form of medication, just ask those I've debated the subject with, but when you're in this much pain the encapsulated mickey is a welcome thing indeed.)

I'm also trying to avoid discussing politics as much as possible, because, frankly, most people are just plain stupid and swallow talking points like they're candy. There is no benefit in trying to debate these people, and so I just nod and smile and walk off thinking, "Well, that's one more person I'm smarter than."

Might be the pills talking.

Anyhoo, I just wanted to let you all know that I've not disappeared off the face of the earth or anything, and I'll be back to shower you all with my abundant wisdom fairly soon. For now, though, I offer two items up for consideration:

  1. Please encourage your Senators and Representatives to enforce the ban on the trading of horses and horse meat for slaughter: At one plant in Mexico, horses are “stabbed repeatedly” with knives in “a barbaric practice (that) simply paralyzes the animal. The horse is still fully conscious at the start of the slaughter process, during which he or she is hung by a hind leg, his or her throat slit and body butchered,” it says.
  2. I asked for opinions on my little fairy-tale poem, and received nothing. Fair enough. (It was picked, however, as one of the top 5 submissions for that particular challenge.) This week's challenge was to "write a poem about the 'ultimate' poem, or what a poem 'should' do." Here is my submission. Hope you like it.

Birthing the verse is a difficult matter
Slipshod constructions of letters and thought
Poets must often be mad as a hatter
To venture forth baring creatures they’ve wrought

These are my children, these poems of wonder,
Playing with patterns they’ve not tried before
Rending most obvious thoughts quite asunder
Seeking new truth behind each stanza’s door.

The smallest of poems, they tend to be wise,
The tallest are often most ponderous,
The twins play in couplets that oft feign surprise,
And all use devices quite wondrous.

Some are full of laughter, others are quite sad,
Some shift in meaning day by day by day,
Some speak of love they’ve never known or had,
Others speak not but hope to simply play

What do I wish for them? What should they become?
Why are they here, and where are they going?
Shall they impart greater insight, then, to some
While others read words without the knowing?

I hope they are cheery, I hope they are bright,
I dream they spring forth earnest, fully formed;
I pray that they outline love’s long, lost, pale plight,
Or touch a heart that has not yet been warmed.

For these are my children, these cradles of verse,
Bundled in beauty and rhythm and rhyme,
Out, then, I send them, for better or for worse,
So they may stand, showing truth for all time.

I'm particularly fond of that last stanza. See you soon!

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