playswithworms: (Default)
For how long did I
Take you for granite until
Stone wept tears of gold
playswithworms: (Default)
It's national poetry day! Well, in the UK anyway, but I don't think anyone will mind if I join in just for fun. The theme is stars, so have a quick star poem:

Twinkle twinkle diamond sky
Mysterious matter burning bright
Ancient forges of the gods
From which worlds arise
And you
And I
And the smallest flea
And the tallest tree
(When we said there live our ancestors
We were not wrong)
Oh sweet carbon, binding breaking
In many a cerebrum, wonder waking
Glory glory little stars
Above the world
So high
So high
playswithworms: (Default)
On Stepping in Cat Vomit in the Early Morning

Ah. Yes.
I remember, now, hearing the heaving, sometime in the night.
Awkward duck walk to keep the cold wet between my toes
from tracking the rest of the carpet
Grab squirt bottle and towels at the ready

The culprit lounges on the bed, at ease
Her two compatriots watch, fascinated, as I scrub
These humans and their funny ways, they say
as eyes green-gold-green track the motion

What better way to start the morning
Than to be an amusement to cats?
playswithworms: (Default)

Having little bits of toilet paper shred and stick to one's posterior after wiping - I can't say this has ever happened to me.  Is this really such a universal affliction that we must have a super strong brand of toilet paper designed especially to prevent it?  Or maybe I've been doing it wrong all these years...(if this is a big issue I'm not aware of, feel free to enlighten me!) 

One of my very distinct early childhood memories is watching TV and the commercial with the poor beleaguered housewife bemoaning the horrible "ring around the collar" on all her husband's shirts came on.  My mother walked by, scowled at the TV, and in a tone of great annoyance and disgust said, "Wash your neck!"   (For those not in the know, "ring around the collar" is the circle of sweat and grime that collects right at the fold of the collar where it hits the neck - here's one version of the commercial).  It was a good first lesson on not buying everything someone tries to sell ya ^_~  Thanks, mom! 

Here, have a silly little poem (completely unrelated to previous topics) )

playswithworms: (Default)

Golden autumn tree
Gold rings never thrilled but for 
You I would marry

bugs and babble )

playswithworms: (Default)

Well hello there
shining one
with your dark dark eyes so bright
The crisp wind awakes
the sweet lightning cracks
hello and where shall we go
this wild and wonderful night?

Tie leafy branches to your arms
let them yield and rise
Tie leafy branches to your heart
core deep, the heartwood lies
and calls the storm to strike
one perfect leaf to your forehead
paste it there, rain tight

We shall flare our nostrils together
we shall grin with arms spread wide
(if we were your butterflies
we’d be tossed aside)
voyage from earth to fearless
with one effortless step
and winglike
veer into flight

(butterflies sheltered safe safe in the deep cracks in our hearts)

playswithworms: (yay nature)

My little seed babies are sprouting!  It's still early days for spring yet - we might even get snow over the weekend - but I still glee and rejoice over even the tiniest bits of green. 

Corn seedlings - already pushing up the top of their lid!

edit:  for some reason if I open a comment window on posts by [ profile] onyx17  (Happy St. Paddy's!) or [ profile] lady_katana4544 (Ooh, Hook has a fan, lol - curious kitty is curious) my computer locks up, but I've been able to leave comments on posts by other folks.  ?? *is puzzled* 

More pictures thisaway )
playswithworms: (Default)

Ganked from [ profile] eerian_sadow 

Your result for The Fan Fiction Personality Test...

The Weirdo

Crackfic, Mpreg, and all the other oddities.

You are pretty weird. It's hard to put you in a box. On one hand, you might lean towards the bizarre subgenres; recklessly slash people with inanimate objects, create alternative universes where Harry Potter is a 7 years old girl named Annie and don't take fanfiction very serious. On the other hand, you might be a misunderstood genius that could write Tolkien, Roddenberry and Rice into the ground, and your ideas are simply totally ahead of their time.

However, the chances you're the latter are rather small.

Take The Fan Fiction Personality Test at OkCupid

Actually, it's not too hard to put me in a box.  Whether I'll stay there, however, now that's an entirely different matter ^_~

Edit:  I'd forgotten - one of my first posts here was refrigerator pr0nz, lol.  How did the survey know! O_o  Here's a reprint, in case you missed this reckless and cutting edge foray into the writing of inanimate object slash:

The refrigerator lightbulb burned out. I was a little traumatized... )
playswithworms: (Default)

Who done went and hit me on the back of the head with the poetry stick yesterday?  Good grief!  I should know better than to clean house when I'm in that sort of mood.

Don't be afeerd, just some looking-cheesier-by-the-minute scribblins (probably mostly work-trauma induced), but I thought I'd put them up anyway.

I can't believe I wrote a poem about being a cannibal....  )

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I feel a little guilty doing this, like I'm making fun of people, but really that's not my intention.  Some of these are so delightful I just can't resist!  For awhile I've been writing down some of my favorite fanfic misspellings and word mix-ups - they remind me of the sweet and hilarious thank you letters we get from the kids who come to the park for field trips (i.e.  "Thank you for teaching us about the snacks.  Wen the snack ate the moose it was grows but neet.")   I love the weird images and strange poetry they put in my head...and I'm sure karma will catch up with me when I write something myself (Lookee -  I said when I write something, not if - aren't you proud?)

playswithworms: (Default)
 100% drug and alcohol free.  I swear.  And I really shouldn't write poetry while I'm housecleaning.....

Ode to My Cold Cold Lover

Cold cold
so cold and dark
where once you glowed
oh bright one, merry spark

Swifter than sunrise you kindled
when in wild hunger I battered your doors
you guided me to sweet bliss

Or on nights when I wandered aimless
seeking comfort, purpose, peace
I rummaged your depths

Then without thought or smile or backward glance
left you


And now in light's absence
in torment my choice
or learn to endure
the dark

So the lightbulb burned out in my refrigerator today, which has somehow never happened to me before.  The fridge is really a bleak and dismal place without that little light at your beck and call.   I was a little traumatized, what can I say?  

Update July 7:  got a new bulb for the fridge today - we're very happy ^_^ 


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