Showing posts with label Blooming Psycho. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Blooming Psycho. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 26, 2017

NaPoWriMo 2017: Day 26: Very Netherworld Science


 "I don't understand Dr. McCoy,"
Spock said as he his tricorder employed
"With the tricorder's fine features
Why would he want Bunsen and Beaker?
The Doctor is a strange humanoid."

~Blooming Psycho~

Note:
 I imagine that in the Star Trek universe, there isn't much need for beakers and Bunsen burners. 
 However, Dr. McCoy has an appreciation for old-fashioned things, and in the Netherworld universe, he would probably love meeting these guys.



http://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-six-3/

Monday, April 24, 2017

NaPoWriMo 2017: Day 24: Tripping Thru The Marginalia

All images found on this page.

Tripping Thru the Marginalia
With
The Real Cie and Blooming Psycho

"Come along, Bloomy," said Cie to her friend
"Let's have some fun till we reach the Marginalia's end."

"Sounds like a plan," said Ms. Psycho. "I'm there without fail."
"I hear that these monks are into hybrid cat snails."


"I see a wizard with a familiar of an unfamiliar race."
"I can't help but notice the balls on his face."

"This little gray fox looks terribly shy."
"Well, it's a good thing he has a shell so he can hide."

"Cat snails abound in marginalia here."
"This cat snail looks tough like it has not one single fear."


"Observe ye yon snail-monks who skate the rope tight."
"While escaping from snail-goats which give one a fright."

"The howling of dogs can be heard by the sea"
"The howling of dog-men is what frightens me."

"Did you see that clever dog playing the fiddle?"
"How he got up the tree is a puzzlesome riddle."


"I see yonder a bird-snail with long, stilt-like legs."
"She must bend down far to sit on her eggs."


"I must confess that I've read not one word of this book"
"This is because of the pictures at which we must look"


"Yet another cat-snail, this one looks quite grim"
'I'd not dare touch a hair of its chinny-chin-chin."


"Look here what I see, it's a forest of words"
"I believe in this forest there's not one normal-ish bird."


"Behold yonder fine cat-snail, she is so regal"
"A queen on her throne, feared by basset and beagle."


"Look ye up close at her marvelous sneer"
"Her red antennae and whiskers give me reason to fear."


"Look here at the cat-snail with octopus cat"
"I have not before seen a thing wondrous as that."


"A strange holy chimera holds up a stave"
"Regal is he, and surely no knave."


"Feast your eyes now upon the devil-dog-snail"
"It has foregone hind feet for a most admirable tail."


"I fear I cannot make head nor tail of this beast"
"Does it want to be friends, or does it wish us for its feast?"


"A goat-headed snail quoting philosophy"
"I hear not its words, but it still interests me."


"I fear we have wandered into a private marginalia space."
"Goat-snails giving rim jobs is not to my taste."


"Now, this is more like it--a cute cherub snail."
"I shall ask it if it may tell us a tale."


"This marginal snail-man looks quite pious to me."
"Then let us peacefully let him meditate prayerfully."


"The lair of the snail-deer is no cause for worry."
"Its countenance is pleasant and its ears are so furry."


"What have we here by the marginalia tree?"
"A troubadour playing for a horse-beast I see."


"To end with the marginalia sea-cow seems right."
"It's frightfully wrought but too cute to cause fright."

And now, my friends, we have ended at last
Pray, a round of applause for our most interesting cast!

The Real Cie
and
Blooming Psycho


Cross-posted to:

Friday, April 21, 2017

NaPoWriMo 2017: Day 21: Reality


Dad overheard Mom
Say the words "he'll have to die"
Harsh reality

The Real Cie
With Blooming Psycho



Notes:
I wasn't certain that a "Senryu" would be the appropriate type of poem for this subject, but with Blooming Psycho's assistance, I see that it truly is. The reality was brief and brutal, and so is the poem.
My father had vascular dementia at the end of his life. Following a major hemorrhagic stroke in 2004 and at least one other stroke which caused him to fall and tear his quadricep, leaving him unable to walk, he was wheelchair bound, confused, and afraid most of the time.
My mother is not the world's most tactful person, and she was angry and tired. During one telephone conversation with me, she said the words used in the poem. I knew my father was there in the room with her, and I knew that regardless of his increasing confusion, he understood.

Saturday, April 15, 2017

NaPoWriMo 2017: Day 15: M is for Medium


 The medium has always been misunderstood
People always said she was crazy
People said that she's no good
She should get a job and stop being lazy

Talking to ghosts was wrong, they said
We think she worships the devil
Either that or it's all in her head
We think that she is evil

She tried to pray the ghosts away
But they became her friends
So she allowed them to stay
Though she sometimes feared it was all just pretend

She tried to seek out others like herself
Only to discover to her dismay
That there was simply nobody else
Nobody else who wanted to play

"Why do you make friends with the ghosts?"
The other psychics scoffed
"You shouldn't be their host"
"You need to send them right off"

The medium thought that maybe
If she sent the spirits away
She could find a husband and have babies
And be a good and normal person each day

But her romances never worked out
And her friends just wanted to drink
She was left alone with her sorrow and doubt
And too much time to think

She considered taking her life
 Because she felt so lost
She had failed at being a wife
She was alone and cast off

Her world was too sad and dark
So she let the spirits return
Ignoring others' callous remarks
About how she'd go to hell and burn

Sometimes she wonders if she is insane
To believe she can sense the ghosts
But the ghosts love her and sing the refrain
"We think that she is the most!"

For my friend and writing sister Cie
From Psychopants
(Blooming Psycho)
And maybe some ghosts
I'm glad I know you
And the ghosts are glad they do too

http://www.napowrimo.net/day-fifteen-3/


Wednesday, April 5, 2017

NaPoWriMo 2017: Day 5: D is for Doom



Fantasy is dead
 Reality is a bore
 Dreams did not come true

~Blooming Psycho~

http://www.napowrimo.net/day-five-4/


Notes:
This poem is a "Senryu," for those who want to get technical about it. I miss the days when I could just call all 5-7-5 poems Haiku and be done with it.
The poetry prompt from NaPoWriMo asked that the subject be something from the natural world, based in reality. I took it one step further and based the subject in a harsh reality of modern life for many people, often myself included.

Saturday, September 3, 2016

30 Days of Haiga 2016: Day 3: Breeze

Click to enlarge

Original Image:

Words by Blooming Psycho and The Real Cie
Photoshop manipulation by The Real Cie

Dedicated to our lost angels

https://19planets.wordpress.com/
 

Friday, September 2, 2016