Older blog entries for marnanel (starting at number 868)

Some folk are born with knowledge of their goal

[info] mactavish said on Facebook that she and [info] deyo were making the life of their dreams, without having realized what their dreams actually were.

I said: I'm sure there's a sonnet in there somewhere.

She said: well, if anyone can find it...

So I wrote it for them:

Some folk are born with knowledge of their goal.
I've met them, though I'm not like that myself;
I'm wandering through life, a placid soul,
content to leave adventures on the shelf.
I've loved and lived without a way to know
the field where I should strive to be the best:
to pan for gold, or be a CEO,
or cure disease, or conquer Everest;
and likewise, you're a Poohstick in the stream:
you drift through life, without an end in mind.
We came together, neither with a dream,
both happy with our futures undefined,
our hoping open-ended; yet it seems
our life together's fashioned from our dreams.

Syndicated 2011-03-17 02:24:10 (Updated 2011-03-17 02:24:33) from Monument

Good morning

DALEKS!
They have pink goo inside.
DALEKS!
They're fond of genocide.
DALEKS!
They're good with garlic,
so fry a dalek
in garlic
today.

Syndicated 2011-03-16 12:53:09 from Monument

If I were a Wikipedia vandal, part six (I think)

Syndicated 2011-03-16 02:06:00 from Monument

Rotary notary

Rotary notary,
Washington Ferris was
building a bridge with a
surplus of steel;
making him famous with
carnivalographers,
since in their business he's
quite a big wheel.

Syndicated 2011-03-16 01:30:49 from Monument

Pie in the sky when you die



PROTIP: This is a lie.

Syndicated 2011-03-13 16:24:28 from Monument

Fibonacci thing

May
day
may be
more to me
than simply parades:
winter safely out of harm's way
enough for a toss in the hay
or in woodland glades;
winter's gone
upon
May
day.

Syndicated 2011-03-11 23:20:35 from Monument

11 Mar 2011 (updated 11 Mar 2011 at 19:10 UTC) »

Tailgaters

A thread on a poetry forum is about "tailgaters": you take the first line of a famous poem, and make it into an often satirical couplet.

Here are some of mine:

Batter my heart, three-person'd God,
And serve it up with chips and cod.

It little profits that an idle king
Should dress up like a lumberjack and sing.

O why do you walk through the fields in gloves?
Protection when greeting my lady-loves.

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!
But immigrants aren't welcome any more.

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
July the fourth? Not quite. The first of May?

Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour.
I need your disinfectant's cleansing power.


Someone else provided this, which I loved:

Something there is that does not love a wall.
But when I crap I like a private stall.


And I read this a long time ago and I forget where:

When I have fears that I may cease to be
I go and make myself a cup of tea.

Syndicated 2011-03-11 18:06:28 (Updated 2011-03-11 18:19:50) from Monument

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