The occasional poet’s obligatory poetry rant
The occasional poet has taken a hiatus for a few months.
Bad Poetry moment
Between NaNoWriMo and my day job I concentrated on 50,000 words in the month of November.
For the past 4 months, my workload was next to impossible.
Now, it’s just hectic.
I’ve been itching for a good poetry challenge, a prompt to send the bard-like parts of me into overdrive.
OH….MY…GHAWD(y)!!!!
My favorite site isn’t hosting a Tanka-or-whatever-poetry challenge yet. A fall-back haiku blog is on robo-dial each week, and a search for posts didn’t create that spark inside I was looking to rekindle.
C’mon people!
A good haiku challenge begins with words that aren’t so clunky they defy fluidity.
Lately, it seems that poetry challenges throw words into cyberspace like buzzsaw and repulsive. That’s like having a sewing contest and asking people to make a Cinderella-style gown out of burlap and carpeting.
Ain’t gonna happen.
So, until this occasional poet can find her inner muse again, it might be awhile before I write anything poetic worth reading, unless you think this is worth the pixels that created it:
Buzzsaws repulsing
like cleaning up a cat’s puke
soaking the bedsheets.
And…yes…THAT is one of the reasons I was up at 4 this morning.
The sound! Then the smell.
Cat now wants to be petted.
I am not amused.
©Joelle LeGendre (It has been, to put it mildly, a colorful morning. Regurgitate THAT, cat).
Poor Puss not feeling well and wanting fuss from Mum. Mummy always makes things better.
Know what you mean cleaning up puke at some godawful hour. Usually my own fault for hoping she’d settle, but the wretching by the door puts me in overdrive and hopefully I’m quick enough to get her outside.
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I was soundly sleeping and missed the wretch alert. He’s presently trying to push my phone off the desk, and trying to block my view of the monitor. In other words, he’s back to normal. 🙂
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That’s good though, right?
I’m a light sleeper, so feel Maggie so much as twitch.
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Fortunately, my sense of smell detected a problem and I didn’t step in it. 🙂
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Oh lor! My SIL did that, but in the garden (I was staying with them sorting my life out), forgetting I had a dog and padded into it in bare feet.
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Hard to like this, since I’ve been there, stepped in that squishy-smelly mass. Ugh!
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I got the imagery, loud and clear. The sound my dog makes before retching wakes out of a sound sleep in a millisecond.
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Cats seem to be a bit more dainty about it, and they don’t have the same volumn (mass or sound). 🙂
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If poetry is meant to reach the reader on a very deep level and say, “I get you!” (and i think it is), then this is more than worthy! 🙂
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LOL! You’re too kind.
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The black tail reminded me of the question mark cartoon Felix the Cat used to make with his tail. Sure you remember. . .
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I’ve seen a Felix the Cat cartoon before. 🙂
The Tiny Terror is so cute when he does that.
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