A good whatever time of day it is for you, Poetry People. It has certainly been volatile in this little space during the past few sessions. You never know exactly what you're going to get around here. Will it be the sage wisdom of Ornery Owl? Will it be the feminist outrage of Sly Fawkes? Or will it perhaps be something like the above?
The NaPoWriMo prompt asks participants to use their poems to describe what something isn't.
To make a long story short, my poem is called Witch of the Prairie, and it contains lines such as "I am not your pet" and "I will never be your girl." So, yeah, Sly snuck in there again. Sly will never rest as long as society continues giving her so much material to work with.
Sometimes I think I'm too old to still be fighting this shit. By "this shit," I of course mean misogyny. Couldn't I just leave that battle up to younger warriors who aren't as tired as I am?
The answer is no, I cannot.
Older women are constantly informed that we're useless. We're out of touch with the times. We have nothing relevant to say. Certainly, we have no sex appeal.
I call bullshit on that crap. Older women have wisdom and experience, and we don't put up with anyone's shit. If someone tries to shame me for my lack of sex appeal, I'll laugh. I don't give a damn about sex. I've been done with that nonsense for years. Ditto caring about being perceived as attractive.
I have more important things to concern myself with, such as learning how to turn misogynists into toads. Toads are better than mansplainers any day.
His Holiness Tuns Tumuch, Oracle of Yopsog and Avatar of Hansab
Most otward doctrine of Xodbyz!
Not much time have I
To impart to you the xelth of qoc
Grab thou the nvoy
The qoc of zoz has been lasled
by the taiq presence of the humustrous Young
Truly his splunge-negating nefarity
Is a threat to the bepig of all Vogon eminate
I, your Oracle, have unto the Grimoire of Yopsog
turned
Of this Earthly Young monstrism it bespake
Dispatched forthwith must be the Splunge Negator
Or we shall suffer the consequences
Most splungelessly
Neglect the Oycog of Knoq at your peril!
Tuns Tumuch
High Oracle of Yopsog and Avatar of Hansab
Notes:
In spite of the fact that he was made a hero of the Vogon Empire for saving the Vogon Flagship from the Rainbow Connection Pirates during the 2014 VILE Awards, some Vogons really don't like Malcolm Young. Tuns Tumuch is one of these Vogons.
After said bestowing of hero status, Tuns kidnapped Malcolm, immobilized him in the web of the ship's Soul Stripper Spider, and proceeded to attempt to force 666 hours of poetry from the Grimoire of Yopsog into the unfortunate musician's auditory receptors.
Fortunately, Malcolm was rescued within three hours of his imprisonment. Unfortunately, although the spectral vestiges of his small intestine attempted to strangle the spectral vestiges of his brain to stop his having to absorb such an atrocity, spectral creatures do not, in fact, possess small intestines or physical brains, and so forced to listen he was.
And now for our prompt (optional, as always)! It’s the weekend, so I’d thought we might go with something short and just a bit (or a lot) silly – the Clerihew. These are rhymed, humorous quatrains involving a specific person’s name. You can write about celebrities, famous people from history, even your mom (hopefully she’s got a good name for rhyming with).
Hi! I'm Oxy Moron, famous Netherworld jester. Today's prompt inspired 2014 VILE Award Winners Jennifer Lopez and Iggy Azalea to ask me to help them write this ode to Axe Man for the good time he showed them in honor of their win.
I was so proud of our work that I decided to ask some of the Netherworld's most respected musicians what they thought. Here are their reactions.
Ugh! I should know better than to ask that crabby curmudgeon anything. Let's see what his band mate thinks.
I'm not quite sure how to interpret that. Did he like it, or is he plotting my demise? Let's see what Malcolm's brother thinks.
Well, um...he kind of got back to the spirit of the original song. I guess that was his intent. Or something. You never know with these guys.
For the Daring:
Here are the original lyrics
Big, big booty, what you got a big booty
Big, big booty, what you got a big booty
Big, big booty, what you got a big booty
Big, big booty, what you
(Ain't that a freak)
Big, big booty, what you got a big booty (My baby, uh)
You're gorgeous
I mean you're fine
You're sexy
But most of all
You are just absolutely booty-full
Have you seen her
On the dance floor
She got the boom, shake the room
That's the lightning and the thunder
You wanna meet her
You wanna touch her
See the light in her eyes
And it starts to make you wonder
All the sexy girls in the party
Go and grab a man, bring him to the dance floor
Go on let them jeans touch you while you're dancing
It's his birthday, give him what he ask for
(Let me show you how to do it)
Big, big booty, what you got a big booty (work)
Big, big booty, what you got a big booty (shake that)
Big, big booty, what you got a big booty (go work)
Big, big booty, what you
The way she moves
I know you want her
She light the fire, get you right
That's the lightning and the thunder
You wanna meet her
You gotta touch her
Hold on tight for the ride
'Cause you know you wanna love her
All the sexy girls in the party
Go and grab a man, bring him to the dance floor
Go on let them jeans touch you while you're dancing
It's his birthday, give him what he ask for
(Let me show you how to do it)
Big, big booty, what you got a big booty (work)
Big, big booty, what you got a big booty (shake that)
Big, big booty, what you got a big booty (go work)
Big, big booty, what you a big booty
Booty, booty, booty, booty, booty everywhere
Look at her booty, stop, stare
They love that booty, hell yeah
The way she twerk it, not fair
She got a booty, that'll swallow a thong
And if you do it better do it dirty all night long
Booty, toot it, boot it, you know the plan
So much booty, she could supply the demand
I wanna take that big 'ol booty shopping at the mall
I wanna pick it up and put that booty in my car
Baby your booty is a movie star
Oscar award winner of them all, now give me that
Mesmerized by the size of it
You can fight it if you like take your time
I can guarantee you'll have the time of your life
Throw up your hands if you love a big booty
Big big big big big big booty, what you
Big big big big big big booty, what you
Big big big big big big, big big big
(Let me show you how to do it)
(Work)
(Shake that)
(Go to work)
Big, big booty, what you got a big booty
Big, big booty, what you got a big booty
Big, big booty, what you got a big booty
Big, big booty, what you got a big booty (shake that)
For the truly daring or otherwise masochistic:
Here is the video
The Prompt:
Our prompt today (optional, as always), will hopefully provide you with a bit of Friday fun. Today, I challenge you to write a parody or satire based on a famous poem. It can be long or short, rhymed or not. But take a favorite (or unfavorite) poem of the past, and see if you can’t re-write it on humorous, mocking, or sharp-witted lines. You can use your poem to make fun of the original (in the vein of a parody), or turn the form and manner of the original into a vehicle for making points about something else (more of a satire – though the dividing lines get rather confused and thin at times).
After drinking way too much of Cuzzin Hildy's fine Shine
Tom Thumb really had to recline
He missed the transport to Antares
Had to hitch a ride on a star beast
But made the show in the nick of time
~Thalia~
Prompt:
And now for our (as always, optional) prompt, which takes us from 2015 back to the 1700s. After all, it’s the eighteenth of April, which means that today is the 240th anniversary of the midnight ride of Paul Revere! Today, in keeping with the theme of rush and warning, I challenge you to write a poem that involves an urgent journey and an important message. It could historical, mythical, entirely fictional, or memoir-ical.
Norvis sells only fair trade coffee, so you can feel good
about catching your A.M. buzz. Or P.M. Whatever.
For unfortunate souls like The Cheesemeister who can’t drink
caffeine, Norvis also has decaf. It doesn’t taste like frog piss, the way a lot
of decaf does. Not that I actually, like, know what frog piss tastes like or
anything. I just figure it probably tastes a lot like decaf coffee, you know.
So, like, what I’m saying is that even though work is a four
letter word and stuff, working with Norvis actually doesn’t seem like work, so
I don’t mind doing it. So come on down and let me make you a latte sometime. Or
an espresso. Whatever.
Pulled into the sweet sensation of your celestial embrace
I never wish to break free from your orbit
**********************
This poem is written from the perspective of one of the Netherworld's best loved characters to his wife. They are fugitives
from a horrible Dystopian future. She spent the first seventeen years of her life in a bio-dome on the moon. He often writes
romantic poems referring to her origins.
I put the poem back up under protest. Several of the other team members asked me to do so, and I suppose removing it wasn't fair to all the people who came by and said nice things. I appreciate those of you who did.
I should not have published this poem here, or at any rate, I should not have shared it on blog hops. I thought it was cuter than it actually turned out to be. In reality, it's not very good. I was trying to write from the point of view of one of our characters. It was a stupid idea. I will not do anything this ridiculous again in the future. I'm pretty sure the Vogons could write better poetry than this drivel.
I'm not a very good poet. I wrote it for fun. To those of you who bothered coming here to read this shit, I'm sorry. The last time I published a poem here was October 2013, in memory of my father, who will be gone ten years on the 28th of this month. Fortunately, the times I wax poetic are few and far between, because I'm terrible at it.
My father taught English comp and literature at a high school level. He's probably hiding his head behind his wings in shame from the other angels because his daughter is such a talentless hack. I'm sorry I let you down, Dad. I'm not very good at much of anything, I'm afraid. I will always love you. I wish I could have made you proud in some way.
~Wanda~
Update August 10 2014
I changed the last line. Maybe the change will be more to the liking of the readers.
I'm trying to give the poem a chance. I still don't like it very well at this point and I'm still wondering why I thought it was a good idea to write and/or share it.
Thank you to those who expressed supportive thoughts. Nobody really said anything mean. I'm way too sensitive in the first place, and I've been having family and money problems to compound everything. It was a straw that broke the camel's back thing to have my writing criticized. I overreacted and I'm sorry.
Our chum A Fungus From Yuggoth was aghast when we suggested that no poetry style starts with Y. He said that our education must be terribly lacking not to have heard the mighty Sagas of the Mi-Go, as penned by Pwbkry 8 in the year 1491. Said sagas apparently inspired Columbus to sail the Ocean Blue in 1492.
A Fungus humbly states that he is not quite such a gifted bard as Pwbkry 8, but he wrote this poem for us.
A faction of Mi-Go, as written about by Dr. Albert Wilmarth and reported by H.P. Lovecraft in "The Whisperer in Darkness," have, unfortunately, caused humans to mistrust the Fungus From Yuggoth. Like humans, this race of beings has good and bad elements.
A Fungus has been a great friend to humans and other dwellers of the Netherworld, as is illustrated in this short adventure.
Here is A Fungus' poem.
A Vision of Yuggoth
Mighty monoliths covered in vines of Hlsad
Vines entwining Cyclopean towers in shadows dim
Far away Sol sparkles in eternal night
Here on Yuggoth life is like a dream that never ends
A human friend of mine once said
Obelisks lined up on the pathway of the Quartz Landing
Point the way to Uranus
Yuggoth welcomes all friendly seekers of knowledge
With Neptune and Venus, we commune
With Alpha Centauri and Izar we share the blessings of our vaults
Come dream with us on Yuggoth for a time
Come and learn what we know
For only knowledge shines a light as bright
As an osmium lamp in the darkness of the Qbcdfi mines of Mars
Quartz and Wyoming Nephrite Jade cannot compare in value
It seems no matter what I do, Axe Man just won't get a clue!
Axe Man Is A Clueless Chump
Axe Man does not see
He is not the one
He keeps asking me
To see his big tool
Seriously why?
Why is he a fool?
I've got my own man
Cupid is cruel
Axe gets lots of chicks
Groupies by the gross
Still he just can't see
That he makes me sick
He wants me alone
He thinks he's so slick
He's slick as gruel
That fell in the pool
~Brittney~
Brittney is one of the most famous and best-loved DJ's at KHEL 666 Radio Netherworld and a journalist for FOGNL/UNDEAD Media Services. In this report, she and Detective Olivia Benson discuss the demerits of this year's VILE Awards winners, and Axe Man's unwanted advances.
Brittney has been trying to thwart Axe Man's advances since 2006.
Octameter, created by Shelley A. Cephas, is a poem made up of 16 lines divided into two stanzas of 8 lines each. Each line has a syllable count of 5. The set rhyme scheme is: a/b/c/d/e/d/f/d g/h/c/g/i/g/d/d.
Example #1:
Angel Delight
Sweet little angel
fill my heart with joy;
let me feel the love
you will give today.
In your shining eyes,
bright as sunshine’s ray
you bring me delight
each and every day.
Filled with loving grace,
you enrich my soul;
God’s gift from above,
I’ll always embrace.
Your smile warms my heart
when I see your face;
as I watch you play
from me do not stray.
The post that this image was found in is worth the read.
Satisfy
I want to satisfy
The need in you
To need me
I want to satisfy
Your every need
So you always need
To come back for more
I want to satisfy
My love
~Blooming Psycho~
SATISFY (transitive verb) 1a : to carry out the terms of (as a contract) : discharge b : to meet a financial obligation to 2: to make reparation to (an injured party) : indemnify 3a : to make happy : please b : to gratify to the full : appease 4a : convince b : to put an end to (doubt or uncertainty) : dispel
5a : to conform to (as specifications) : be adequate to (an end in view)
Notes:
Trifecta is going away. This is a bummer. Even though Team Netherworld's writing never passed their muster, we still kind of like them and enjoyed the challenges.
The Psycho has no-one in her life to inspire the writing of such a poem as the one shared above. This poem is written by one of our favorite characters to his wife. He has a tendency to write sappy poetry to her.
This is far less awkward than the awful poem that one of our other borrowed characters wrote with someone else's wife in mind. In fairness, it was actually an old poem that he wrote after he and this woman spent 666 years together in a hell consisting of nothing but kitchens with spray cheese and saltine crackers. Also, at the point when he wrote the poem, he hadn't yet met the lovely succubus who would become his wife. He used the poem to impress the Vogons, who had asked him to participate in a poetry reading aboard their flagship. He was suffering from writer's block and couldn't come up with any new material.
This blog will officially be participating in the April A-Z challenge. Stay tuned. We hope to avoid writing any awkward Vogon-appeasing poetry.
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