All the Comforts of Space

 

Image by NatureFriend from Pixabay

This chair isn't made of wood or anything. It's made from some kind of highly advanced extraterrestrial material and designed for the most evolved comfort.

An FBI agent named Scully

Followed a trail down into a gully

She found a UFO seat

Its comfort couldn't be beat

So she sat and stared into space dully.

Why the hell did you write this, Owl?

Well, obnoxious asker of questions, my audience was clamoring for a follow-up to my ultra-popular, smash hit poem, Gross Encounters of the Worst Kind.

https://poetryofthenetherworld.blogspot.com/2023/06/gross-encounters-of-worst-kind-wep.html

Okay, one reader casually mentioned that since Mulder got his own poem, it might be nice if Scully had a poem too. So I racked my brain until I shook out a word that rhymed with Scully and came up with the above. No need for applause. Buying a book is thanks enough!

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~

Free use image by Jim Cooper on Pixabay

https://pixabay.com/illustrations/background-city-night-owl-alien-7755199/

Ah, UFO Jockey! Back for more poetic injustice, I see!

https://bit.ly/NNPBooks

I built the official Naughty Netherworld Press page using Pagimate. You can check them out here. 

https://bit.ly/NNPPagimate 

I tried to build author pages in the past but always ended up frustrated. With Pagimate, it's easy and even fun. It's also affordable. I purchased a lifetime membership for £179 ($202 USD). 

Use code CARA20 if you decide to create your own page with Pagimate.

November PAD Challenge 2021: Don't Let Auntie Mabel Bless the Table

 

Image by Artist and zabiyaka from Pixabay

There was no rule saying that Auntie Mabel must be human

Don’t let Auntie Mabel bless the table

She’ll just make a monstrous mess of things

Does that madwoman even own a mirror?

Perhaps someone could give her one as a reward

It would be a refreshing gift to us

If Auntie Mabel got sidelined while searching for a pot of gold

A silver lining at the end of the rainbow

To miss out on Crazy Aunt Mabel and her zingers and zephyrs

And all of her chatter about Xenops and Xerus

Mystic mall cops and maroon feather dusters

Madcap Mabel’s madness is caddy and contagious

~ornery owl~

notes

Xenops is a group of small birds found in Central and South America. Rather than being a single species, Xenops is a genus – a group of closely-related species.

Definition of Xerus: a genus of coarse-haired long-tailed African ground squirrels that somewhat resemble prairie dogs in their habits.

prompts

https://godoggocafe.com/2021/10/23/brave-recklesss-november-creativity-prompt-challenge-autumnblings/

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2021-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-17

Prompt: Write an "object" poem.

My initial thought was that the object of focus should be the mirror, as in the weekend writing prompt. Auntie Mabel is the real focus of the poem, but she isn't an object. The poem contains numerous objects, so there is no need to choose just one!

http://www.octpowrimo.com/2021/10/octpowrimo-day-8.html

Prompt: 

Write a free-verse poem.

What a fabulous idea!

Free-verse is my favorite.

http://puttingmyfeetinthedirt.com

https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2021/11/13/weekend-writing-prompt-235-mirror/

The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese If You Please (Or Don't Please)

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Carpe Diem #1756: Fly

Horsefly, aka Biting Buttmunch

get lost buzzing pest 

whether biting or buzzing

you are annoying

~Cie~

Notes:

It seems that Grover and Cactus Clem forgot to tell me about the metric crap-ton of flies that reside on the Lone Prairie. Would you fellows care to explain yourselves?

Visit the Artist

Ghost Town Grover sez: "I'm awful sorry about lyin' by omission about all the flies 'round these parts, Ornery, but Cactus Clem said that if you knew about 'em you might not wanna move here. So I done kept my mouth shut and didn't say nothing about the flies. By the way, how the heck much is a metric crap-ton? Is that like a wheelbarrow-full? 'Cause I probably hauled lots of metric crap-tons of dirt outta the mine back when I was prospectin' fer gold."

Visit the Artist

Cactus Clem sez: "Grover, do you think I oughta lie by omission about the thing that Beavis and Butthead done in the living room to try and git rid of them flies?"

Carpe Diem Field of Flowers: Corncockle

Image Source

a flower whose name

is sure to bring a chuckle

at least if you are

the sort whose mind is often

somewhere down in the gutter

~Cie~

Visit the Artist

Ghost Town Grover sez: "That's it, Ornery, I'm declarin' y'all a lost cause! Y'all find one flower with a kinda silly name and yer sittin' there smirkin' like a schoolgirl! Now me, I ain't thinkin' nothin' filthy about this here flower's name. I'm thinkin' this here flower reminds me of corn and roosters, 'cause it's got corn in its name, and roosters say cock-a-doodle-doo."

Visit the Artist

Cactus Clem Sez: "Now, Grover, I don't think it's entirely Ornery's fault. Every time we invite that ole Beavis an' Butthead over fer a poker game, everything seems kinda down an' dirty to me fer a while too!"

Butthead: "Huh huh huh! You said 'cock.'"

Beavis: "Yeah! Yeah! Me too! He said 'cock!'" 

Great news! The plumbing in the Grover Hotel is mostly updated (still a little minor work to do) and the big move-in day is September 6!

Carpe Diem Summer Love: Cooling Down

Image by Benjamin Brandt from Pixabay

If I were a bear

Then I could cool off while bare

And no-one would care

~Cie~

This Poem Has Earned

The Cactus Clem Seal of Approval

Visit Cactus Clem at the Good Stuff from Grover Site

Visit the Artist who painted Cactus Clem's portrait

Carpe Diem Summer Love: Day 3: Summer Cocktails

Summer Cocktail

Drink summer cocktails
Sway through the streets like a yacht
Three sheets to the wind

~Cie~

Notes:

This is the first ever of my poems to get a rave review.

"Best poem I ever red!" --Cactus Clem

You can visit Cactus Clem and Ghost Town Grover at the Good Stuff From Grover website, plus keep up on the repairs to the historic Grover Hotel and find all sorts of other great stuff at Grover's Virtual General Store!

You can read Cactus Clem's first-ever book review here.

Visit the Artist

Quadrille #81: Draggin' Dragon

Image by GraphicMama-team from Pixabay

A silly poem calls for a silly dragon, and vice-versa

I’m a draggin’ dragon and I’m gonna get my drag on

Spewing flame out from my nostrils and swigging wine up from my flagon

Gonna fly high up in the sky and do some aerial tricks to brag on

A draggin’ dragon is me

That's 44 words by Cie

For:

D'Verse Poets

NaPoWriMo 2019 Day 20 + Poems in April Day 20: Green and Beautiful Tanka

Copyright Magaly Guerrero

Green and beautiful

I found it in the garden

It seemed to see me

Contemplating eyelessly

Whether I would be tasty

~Cie~

Notes:

This poem is rated H for Humor. If you haven't got a sense of humor, like as not, you will not like it.

I couldn't quite wrap my head around the NaPoWriMo prompt today.

I disobeyed reinterpreted the Real Toads prompt. Guess I won't be officially participating in that one either!

I'm kind of burnt like toast on the whole poem a day thing for quite some time to come.

NaPoWriMo 2019 Day 13 + Poems in April 2019 Day 13 & 6: Night of the Lepus

Stargazing Rabbit

Copyright Jason Limberg

So, you think a rabbit can't be scary?

Well, Smartypants

Why don't you just try

To go outside

On the Night of the Lepus?

This ain't no Tale of Peter Rabbit, dagnabbit!

I assure you that The Bunnies Are Not In Their Beds

This is The Story of a Fierce Bad Rabbit

Rabbits and Raindrops?

Try Bunnies and Bloodshed!

Shiver and tremble

Beware and dread

The Night of the Lepus

Is upon us!

~Cie~

Dedicated to DeForest Kelley

A lovely man who appeared in many great productions

And one wonderfully awful one

The book titles I used in the poem are listed below. 

Full disclosure: The links allow the purchase of the books on Amazon, for which I get a small commission. 

The Bunnies are Not In Their Beds

Rabbits and Raindrops

The Tale of Peter Rabbit

The Story of a Fierce Bad Rabbit

Day #6

Day #13

Notes:

I have only attended one fan convention. I went to Star Con back in 1984. I treasure the fact that I was able to hear DeForest Kelley speak. He was a very nice man with a somewhat wicked sense of humor and an unexpected tendency to use salty language. He didn't just talk about Star Trek, he also talked about the Westerns he starred in and laughed about having to reduce the salt in his language when working with Loretta Young, who was a very straight-laced lady.

Unfortunately, I wasn't able to get his autograph. The poor fellow was suffering from altitude sickness and had to go back to his hotel room. The nasty woman in front of me snidely said that he probably had too much to drink. I had nothing to say to her and thought that if I had to deal with people like her very often, I'd probably be inclined to drink too.

In any case, I'm glad I got to spend time listening to the musings of a person whom I like very well, and I'm glad I got to see the terrible B movie that he was in. I'm pretty sure that it wasn't one of his prouder moments. The Night of the Lepus is not a great classic, but it is one of those movies that's so bad it's good.

Just in case you can't resist having a copy for yourself.

NaPoWriMo 2019 #12 + A Poem A Day 2019 #7 & #12: Proper Etiquette for Loving a Spoon

Image by Clker-Free-Vector-Images from Pixabay

Is there proper etiquette to convey

The love for the spoon if I may

Without a good spoon

You could cook midnight to noon

And wind up with soup loathsome and gray

~Cie~

Prompt #7

Prompt #12

Notes:

I'm not one of those poets who can just write a poem and then leave the readers to figure it out for themselves. That is not how I roll.

The NaPoWriMo prompt asked for a poem praising a dull object. The spoon is both blunt and not exactly exciting. However, one must admit that life would suck without spoons.

The Real Toads Prompt #7 was the word etiquette.

The Real Toads Prompt #12 was the concept of love. Probably romantic love, but I'm going to get technical here and argue for the fact that I mention the word love in reference to the dull but necessary spoon.
I'm sorry, but I just couldn't manage the unrequited love thing today. I've done that one to death because that's pretty much the only kind of "love" I've ever known outside of abusive relationship "love," and writing about it would have depressed me. I'm under a lot of stress right now and I don't need to be encouraging myself to crash and burn. I'm already experiencing night terrors as it stands. 

For those of you who think that I'm a one-trick pony who only writes dark poetry, you now know that I'm a two-trick pony. I write two kinds of poems: dark and silly. I leave you to discern which category this one should be placed in.

When the Nose Blows

Copyright jleason on deviantart

When the nose blows

The explosion can be heard

For miles and miles and miles

Vision blurred

It's a tough challenge

When the nose blows while driving

 The taste of the trickle

That runs from the nose to the throat

Neutral to nauseating

Smell muted for a moment

Or maybe several

It may be a sneeze barrage

Then there are those occasions

Of explosive art

When a sneeze turns to a snart

~Cie~

 Notes:

Today's poem was supposed to include all five senses. I kind of did that.

The -666 readers of this blog may notice new poems creeping in on past dates where you hadn't seen a poem before. These poems aren't back-dated or anything. You just didn't notice them until now!

Ode to the Corpse Flower

The pungent Corpse Flower resides in the hothouse at the Denver Botanic Gardens

I jumped into the crowd

That hurried swiftly past

Don't stop and smell the Corpse Flower

Its scent will kick your lily ass

~Cie~

Notes:

We were supposed to take cliche phrases and "turn them on their head."

I used "go against the grain" and "stop and smell the roses."

The Corpse Flower is a real plant. You can't make this crap up.

The Corpse Flower is not an actual Lovecraftian horror. BUT IT COULD BE!

Big Bang Bird

Notes first today. The prompt asks us to take a photograph and a poem in a language we don't know, then "translate" the poem as if it goes with the photograph. The language here is Belgian, and I don't know it. 

I will provide the translation after I have ruined...er...improved this poem!

A BIG BANG

er is niet meer nodig dan afstand om ons te zien zoals we zijn

het aangroeien en afsterven van tijdelijke structuren, licht

in het donker in het licht wij groeien in alle richtingen, een woeker

When night meets day, standing off to the side of the window

An awful grackle serves up a strident tittering as light comes

In his mind, he thinks the light is cue for his wrathful, ringing singing

er is niet meer nodig dan afstand om ons te zien: levende fossielen

in steeds dezelfde banen die rekenen op enen en nullen omdat wij

niet tellen, niet snel genoeg om start van finish te onderscheiden

When night meets day, standing on the side of the lawn like a fossil

A banal nightmare reckoning opens its obnoxious mouth

No telling, no saying from start to finish its song

laat staan om thuis te komen. Roodkapje met de zevenmijlslaarzen

haast zich door onderzeese glasvezeldraad een oor in aan de andere kant

van de wereld. Een wolf, een grootmoe, een meisje en een jager

The last stand is coming when this rude bird will meet its fate

The door groans open, and out the entry comes

Into the world, a wolf, groaning and hung over on Jager

dansen samen een binaire chachacha. Ga van het pad schat

het vraagt niet meer dan afstand om ons te zien: een defecte cel

in een sterrenstelselhersenpan, een interstellaire boodschap van

The vain bird dances a binary chachacha and takes a dump

He brags while night meets day, stands to the side and defecates

He stares like an interstellar badass

parasitair lichtgevend mos, synapsen van glasvezel maar dan sneller

neuron aan / neuron uit, mens aan / mens uit

mensen als banaal signaal.

This feathered parasite has the advantage over the glazed synapses of his foe

Whose neurons are unlit 

Sending only a banal signal

And now, the original poem and a translation

A BIG BANG

er is niet meer nodig dan afstand om ons te zien zoals we zijn

het aangroeien en afsterven van tijdelijke structuren, licht

in het donker in het licht wij groeien in alle richtingen, een woeker

er is niet meer nodig dan afstand om ons te zien: levende fossielen

in steeds dezelfde banen die rekenen op enen en nullen omdat wij

niet tellen, niet snel genoeg om start van finish te onderscheiden

laat staan om thuis te komen. Roodkapje met de zevenmijlslaarzen

haast zich door onderzeese glasvezeldraad een oor in aan de andere kant

van de wereld. Een wolf, een grootmoe, een meisje en een jager

dansen samen een binaire chachacha. Ga van het pad schat

het vraagt niet meer dan afstand om ons te zien: een defecte cel

in een sterrenstelselhersenpan, een interstellaire boodschap van

parasitair lichtgevend mos, synapsen van glasvezel maar dan sneller

neuron aan / neuron uit, mens aan / mens uit

mensen als banaal signaal.

A BIG BANG

nothing further is needed than distance to see us the way we are

the increase and decease of temporary structures, light

in darkness in the light we grow in all directions, rampant

nothing further is needed than distance to see us: living fossils

perpetually in identical orbit describing ones and zeros, as we

don’t count, not quick enough to distinguish between the start and finish

let alone to come home. Little Red Riding Hood in seven-league boots

dashes through the undersea optic fibre into an ear the other

side of the world. A wolf, a grandma, little girl and huntsman

dancing a binary cha-cha-cha together. Get off the path my love

all that is needed is distance to see us: a defective cell

in a cranial firmament, an interstellar message of

parasitic, luminous moss, glass fibre synapses but quicker still

neuron on / neuron off, human on / human off

people as a banal signal.

© 2014, Runa Svetlikova

From: Deze zachte witte kamer

Publisher: Marmer, Baarn, 2014, 9789460682223

© Translation: 2016, Willem Groenewegen

First published on Poetry International, 2018

The Most Spluvid of Splunge-Negators

Judge Dustbinn Knaprous has created a most pyfmont warning for his fellow VILE Awards judges regarding the worst Splunge-negating offenders among Netherworld musicians

The Most Spluvid of Splunge-Negators:

A Warning both Timely and Bropp

by

Judge Dustbinn Knaprous

Yokon, VILE Awards Council

Fellow Ovlon Diglin:

By far the worst of the worst

Of bands going above and beyond the muvip call of duty

To negate the spevid quality known as Splunge

Is the Young-led legion of the Splungeless

That figcrop of a band known as 

The Quick and the Undead

They plunge the Splunge to -666

Never should Vogon-kind see the day

When they are allowed to play

For a more wudlus day you will never see 

Yours in Splunge and Vogonosity,

Dustbinn Knaprous

Yokon Honourable

VILE Awards Council

Note:

This was supposed to be a list, but Vogons are notoriously lazy and unpleasant, so I didn't want to push Judge Knaprous for more.

Satanic Lego Sacrifice

Copyright Carson Arias

In the monstrous pit

Lay the severed yellow heads

Gruesome plastic pile

~Scary Seth~

I'm sorry, but I couldn't stop myself. It's all the fault of Three Line Tales. I've tried to resist the urge to create sordid Senryus (Gods help me, I still want to call them Haikus!) Really, I have. But who could resist the siren song which blatantly tempts one to write three lines about severed Lego heads?

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.