A post with a heart of light and gold today, since the Mavericks won so mercilessly last night. Who’d say that the most joy I’ll be getting will be from a 23-year-old Slovenian having fun playing basketball in Dallas?
I almost wrote another poem for Luka (following this one) but that would be an exaggeration, no matter that we were to make it epic today.
But first, let’s have some fun before the poem. Our guest host John at John’s Space is setting humor as the theme of this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge.
Since Gary Larson of The Far Side fame is probably my favourite cartoonist – yes, this one –
it won’t come as a surprise that I like to find funny things in nature, nurture and culture as well. Maybe not funny haha, but enough for a slight chuckle that can make my day. Here are five examples in my photos.
Here are ten more examples of what is funny to me from Facebook. We can be friends there if you’d like to see me share more of such.
Two more posts with funnies of this kind:
For Lens-Artists Photo Challenge, guest-hosted by John at John’s Space: Humor
And finally, here is my poem for today. Four more days in April…
Prompt 26: “Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that contains at least one of a different kind of simile – an epic simile. Also known as Homeric similes, these are basically extended similes that develop over multiple lines.”
My poem is a result of something which I read yesterday for the first time and find very true. How about you?
I imagine rather megalomaniacally that I am a famous poet and a journalist asks me the most hated non-question of all times.
Creepy crawlies and you “The way you line up words is fascinating. Talk a little about the process, if you will.” “Imagine a big pool of creepy crawlies. You wake up and it’s there and you’re its keeper. It’s on you to pick the one to slaughter; the one to fatten up; the one to liberate; the one to move to the next pool and start all over by building a new clan; the one to bury as it stinks to heaven; the one to marry with hell freezing over; the one and two with which to start and finish; the one to never look again, and one to cherish. The profoundest trick to it is doing it like no one’s watching. Besides, it’s true. Others care not one iota what you do with your creepy crawlies. Some say it’s sad but what I see is freedom. You’re on your own. Pick wisely but do pick.”
The last day in my NaPoWriMo history
You gave me the door, I return you the house. Same time next year it’s yours and I visit. The door is the same, I see. The way in must be around. I’ll follow my senses. No, the other way. The passing impulse is to touch the roots. They are real, just as I’ve thought. The scent is next: faraway spices, Asian feast. Taste buds alert, warming up for later.
2019: It's looking up
It’s 33 years since the Chernobyl today. Chose that night to roll on the grass. Must not think bad thoughts. There was fire in Rome in the night. Trash was burning and the air was sick. Must not think bad thoughts. The trick is to go on, even when it appeals to coil in the shower. Must not think bad thoughts. Nature does not ask questions, nature understands. Stands under. Standstill. Must not think bad thoughts.
Whose? Mine? I remember my letters more than other people’s: “And now he is building this garden for me.” I was only read to. Pippi was always the big win. One beast from a myth? Ah, don’t know, one of those with many heads. Now outside my window? The dog, birds, Tuscany, viruses. Three minutes away? A field full of wildflowers. What they say? “You cannot enter. Not now, not ever.” What I fear? More and more things. “Other people,” my mother replied in an old lexicon. Dragon, if it’s the previous city. Flamingo, if it’s the present.
2021: Diamonds or bust
Well I’ll be damned, I’m being featured today! That’s certainly unusual, it’s just that the moon is full (tomorrow) and she happens to like my poem. And here I sit, WordPress playing tricks on me, I cannot like any post, the dog threw up again and I sucked at my cards.
This day in my blogging history
Today I did plenty.
I caressed the dog, rolled up my sleeves, moved my head for a butterfly, had a look at the sea, walked somebody home, stuck the sun onto the sky and happily used foul language.
I gave the world one more. A new one.
2014: This sun is a chain of iron without love, love, love, love. … and if it’s a girl, we’ll call her Future. —Lucio Dalla
2015: Life imitates blog. This blog’s punchline reads: Because words are pressing and words make worlds and that little sign there looks like a Volkswagen.
2017: Whatever I do is done out of sheer joy; I drop my fruits like a ripe tree. What the general reader or the critic makes of them is not my concern. —Henry Miller