Thursday...already?

Madness, say thy name!

And the cinquain continues…for those who not know or remember, the structure of a cinquain is 2 syllables, 4, 6, 8 and then 2 again. The verse does not need to rhyme, but why not! This is part 4 or 5...the last installment is here.

I dreamed
I’m in a room
and all the things I kept,
with my collection of keepsakes
I slept.

Awake…
Open my eyes
And there behind my back
His arms raised high above his head
Was Jack.

Away
He did not see
That I had come about
And while he wove about a knife
I shout.

Attack
And so I did,
As he was unaware
Even before I had my wits
The scare!

Whirling
Jack spun about
Ethereal he glowed
And into my hurling body
He flowed.

The blade
That Jack once held
Protruded from my side
And as he was nowhere to see
I’d hide.

This ache
Was quite intense
Fell back upon the floor
Retracted knife out from my rib
And roared.

It’s strange
Then how I felt,
The soreness quickly passed
The lightening bugs flew back to me
At last.

I gazed
About the room
The shelves nailed on the wall,
And everywhere were bottles, jars,
All full.

Touching
My collection,
The odors in my place
The memories I had of her,
Her face….

From the Book of Dante

To summon the necessary Allegory Zebras,
Pasta Imbroglio swallowed the bruised
Globe module
And cracked a frosted ampoule.
When the first futile Gulump
Knelt and felt the vibrations
Within the divining funnel of mortitude,
His life became forfeit and the cone
Was passed to the second.
Another five days and Pasto
Forgave the second with a
Positive sighting and so he flung
The funnel wide out over a
Canyon until it flattened out
And caucused the wind
Then zeroed on the lead
Zebra, a portentous mare, a
Rippled and foamy masthead
Breaking through to the beach
After harrowing the Gap
Of Turpitude.
The funnel spent, Captain Imbroglio
Unfurled his cord of flags and
Transferred power to
The Mouth of Allegory,
Became vice colonel Imbroglio and
Landed his fleet into the
Cove of Pasto, hauled
Over the beach on felled
Trees by the power of
A dozen hundred Galumps
Through a
Wide swath of cut woods,
Done so by the
Serrated bone-arms of a
Dozen hundred more industrious
Galumps, all forfeit to
The excursion, whim of the
Mouth of Allegory,
His random verbal diagrams, his
Horizontal clues and vertical definitions by
Intention instructive, but interpreted as
Cross words;
They toil for the expansion of Allegory,
Sacrificing health to the
Glory of the Mouth,
Throwing themselves on the sword and collected
As souls wailing in the Wood of the Suicides.

take back the roost! and Woolly Worm Report...

The cuckold finch
An urban myth
Snarks with a word,
A subliminal wink.
Messaged in youth
It was Gauguined
When most susceptible
And intra-wired
With glue and feathers.
Indoctrinating its young
The cuckold finch
Makes friends
Out of enemies
Then socially bombards
The SOB’s, turning
Pillow cases into
tainted glycerin,
A blast into statement.
Its web feet
Stem the tide
Fulfilling hornet dreams
Thrumming in V’s
Led by
The cuckold finch
Triumphant in disguise,
Pointedly puncturing
A rapid stinger reset.

one note: last week I avoided squishing a woolly worm on the Greenway, noticing his orange band stretched nearly from head to tail...

prediction?

From a couple searches I have ascertained this means we will have a mild winter.

Well, we'll see--as the temps here have fallen pretty rapidly...it is almost as if October was passed over entirely for November!

picture by Shitao on Flickr.

Taking Flight to a higher plane........

Purple skies amazing
Breaking sunlight raising
Expectations of a lifetime
Dream bubbles in their prime.
In this the time is right
For the Dromnauts to take flight
Reaching for makers to heap praise
Rising on crepuscular rays.
Off machines they will take wing
And their rotors whirl and sing
As the Dromnauts dip and fight
Drafts and currents in this flight,
And they venture to the clouds
In twos and fours and larger crowds.
With the bumbling ways they float
Spilling cargos they all tote
The Dromnauts surf and ride
In their wakes sometimes collide.
Ascending on the ladder
An ether mixed in chatter
Blathering they rise
Up into the skies,
And the cumuli will part
And gather to its heart
Each Dromnaut far and close
Every one the cloudburst chose
To fill a vacant hole
In its mother loving soul.

Tom & Dinosaur Hand. 2wo Reviews!

Once again, the dynamic duo of film team up to review Movies; they are
Tom & Dinosaur Hand!!!

Tom: Hey Dinosaur Hand, whadja think of the matinee we took in last week?
Dinosaur Hand: Gobbledygook!
Tom: Huh?
D.H.: Poo.
Tom: Well, to our viewers, what we saw was Inglorious Basterds, a kind of retelling of World War II, and how things might have been different, if things had gone another way.
D.H: ??? Remarkable synopsis there, booger lips.
Tom: You are hostile and non communicative.
D.H: Poo.
Tom: For my money, it was entertaining. There was not as much action as I imagined there’d be, and a lot of dialogue…sometimes it dragged a big with allll the dialogue. With previews and all the movie ran over 3 hours. Oh, and mega subtitles.
D.H: Poop! They were speaking Martian the whole movie…didn’t understand half the words! Gobbledygook!
Tom: Dino, that was German, and some Italian…that was what the subtitles were for…you read them and know what’s going on!
D.H: What? Who reads?!!!
Tom: Oh.
D.H: Yeah, but there was a lot of bullets and some really nasty knife gouging. Sweet!

Tom: Also we rented State of Play. Tell me Dino, did you like that?
D.H: Zzzzzz.
Tom: Yea, you napped some.
D.H: Did anyone get shot? Did I miss it?
Tom: A couple shootings, but this movie was more about intrigue and government cover-ups and newspaper savvy and stuff like that.
D.H: How ’bout sex?
Tom: Just what I said, and a couple shootings, and maybe a bit with throwing punches. I liked the movie.
D.H: yea well, you’re a loser.
Tom: This is why I don’t talk to you.
D.H: Next time you need to cut your steak, talk to Dinosaur Foot.
Tom: Listen everybody, there is no dinosaur foot ; that’s just crazy talk…

Inspired by.........

Doodle inspired by BibliOdyssey

Hey, stop gaping,
A lolling tongue
Comes unglued.
Instead incorporate
A steely glare
And ogle frequently
With inverted fervor.
Your well placed
Good intentions
May leak forth
If practiced restraint
Is fastened cohesively.
A loose fit
Will surely
Be the end of us all.
Grip firmly then
Tighten up adequate notches;
Two finger’s width
Saves a little
Wiggle room
For proper swiveling hydraulics,
Thus ensuring proliferation
And fanciful Darwinism:
Oops--you’re not supposed to know that!

Wild & Crazy !!!!!

further adventures in Cinquain Madness !!!

‘Beware’
I heard that voice;
It warned me once before.
But once I tried it would not budge,
The door.

In fear
I spun about
Some exit must be near
Try as I might I could not see
It clear.

So old,
A stained glass pane
Through it I spied a porch
Playing among the shrubs grown wild
A child.

Somehow
I’d spun around;
The front was now the back
The boy offered his hand and said
‘I’m Jack’.

Against
The glass I laid
My sweating palm ‘hello’
And as his hand was placed near mine
It glowed.

I took
The boy for real,
Or feral at the least
Living wild in this derelict,
A beast.

Crazy
I have to be
I’m seeing things for sure
Now the boy comes through the window
Bonjour.

Panic
Again I swoon,
The specter’s grin bequeath
And flesh dissolves around his skull
And teeth.

Nothing
I see my life
Flash right before my eyes.
And right before I hit the floor
Fireflies.

one entire wild page
from the sketchbook of 'whazat!?'
(click to enlarge)