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Showing posts from February, 2016

Idioms and Poetry -Name Dropper

The inspiration for this poem came from idioms. In this case, I used idioms involving people's names. My father's generation frequently used such idioms in everyday language. Clearly my exposure to such idiomatic language had an influence. It was fun to play around with these wonderful old terms. Hope you enjoy the word play...

Name Dropper
My Dad knows lots of people I reckon He often tells me Bob’s your uncle But I don’t know any Bob’s
He believes Scott is great He’s always saying Great Scott! He wants to rob Peter to pay Paul and I’m not sure why He thinks Fanny Adams is sweet And someone called Nelly is nervous Last week he told me to run like Billy O How does Billy O run? That’s what I want to know
Dad does a lot of things for a fellow called Pete Sake And he thinks Alec is smart because he’s always saying What a smart Alec he is He thinks Ann is raggedy And Simon is simple Freddie is blind But even he can see Which I find a bit confusing
And somehow Johnny is on the spot And Jack is in a box May…

Poetry of Place

Poetry of Place

Think back. Think about a place you have felt really comfortable. Think about a place you may have called home.

A cluster of clouds in Cancun, reminded me of when I was boy and would lie on my back in our backyard and stare up at the sky... 




Goerge Ella Lyom responded to this challenge when writing:
Where I'm FromI am from clothespins,
from Clorox and carbon-tetrachloride.
I am from the dirt under the back porch.
(Black, glistening,
it tasted like beets.)
I am from the forsythia bush
the Dutch elm
whose long-gone limbs I remember
as if they were my own.

I'm from fudge and eyeglasses,
from Imogene and Alafair.
I'm from the know-it-alls
and the pass-it-ons,
from Perk up! and Pipe down!
I'm from He restoreth my soul
with a cottonball lamb
and ten verses I can say myself.

I'm from Artemus and Billie's Branch,
fried corn and strong coffee.
From the finger my grandfather lost
to the auger,
the eye my father shut to keep his sight.

Under my bed was a dress box
spilling old pict…

Tilly Taylor's Tantrum Poem

In the space of one week, I saw two toddler tantrums while out and about in the world. A poet needs this world wandering to maintain a flow of ideas. And so it was that Tilly Taylor's Tantrum came screaming into my head...
What might you observe that could form part of a poem? What have you seen, or heard lately?

Tilly Taylor’s Tantrum
Attention please shoppers We have a meltdown in aisle four Right beside the confectionery stand Young Tilly Taylor Age five and a quarter Is experiencing a throwdown Customers are advised to avoid this area Tilly’s mother said No I repeat, No I will not add a packet of Jelly Snakes to the shopping trolley…
And so- A throwdown is happening right now, right here We have-Whaa! Piercing screams Yelling and spit Devil eyes Foot stomping And hate stares We have trolley rattling And more…
Shoppers in aisle four are advised to move immediately To alternative aisles
Tilly’s mother is moving towards frozen foods In the hope of cooling things down Tilly Taylor remains in aisle four Ho…