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Reblogged from Words and Music and Stories. Make sure you read the fun quarantine limerick.
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bserved annually on May 12th, National Limerick Day celebrates the birthday of English artist, illustrator, author, and poet Edward Lear (12 May 1812 – 29 January 1888)
The 30th poem on the 30th day
This race is over, Hiphiphooray.
I persevered and now I’m done.
The Poetry Month marathon is won.
Pretzel shapes are varied
Like knots, or twists or loops
The baker decides upon the form
From the pretzel dough he scoops
Nature usually shapes the trees
Based upon the type
Unless mankind interfers
with his usual hype.
He grafts a twig upon a trunk
Intending to create
Something never seen before
But hopes it will be great.
If librarians
organized the headlines, book
covers would be words.
Happy Birthday to the Bard
We really can’t send you a birthday card
Your rhymes are better and more renowned
Than the rhymes, I’ve read on the cards I’ve found.
Why do rhymes today sound so trite?
Is it the modern way that we write?
Our vocabulary may have gone astray
by using emojis to mean what we say.
Is an emoji worth a thousand words?
The very thought seems so absurd.
We couldn’t use an emoji to write a sonnet
even if we stumbled upon it.
Our rituals can
Hold us up or hold us back.
How do yours hold you?
JeanMarie posted this gem on her blog. Click here to read the entire article, Dear Diary.
Purpose
A place for everything ̶
everything in its place ̶
everything else in the junk drawer.
A tidy home is not the same
as a clean home. I know
where everything is;
just don’t look close at my floor.
Everything has a purpose
except the quarter inch of plastic
I found on the floor one day.
It might be a screw,
but it has grippers on it,
although it’s too small to hold a picture.
The hole on top
is for an allen wrench
if I had one that small.
Where did it come from?
What does it do?
Can I afford to toss it away?
These unanswerable questions
keep it in my drawer.
Thanks to Allen Rizzi for the thought.
I am a geezer par excellence
as long as my ego does not exceed
the knowledge I have to share.
Some people do not know
when to stop talking,
running their mouths
ad nauseam.
Make them wish
you had said more
rather than sorry
that you did.
Beware the 80 somethings, they are the boomer’s version of teenagers.
This little guy, so cute in his mask
Knows the answer to questions we ask
How can I travel when I’m stuck at home?
With a good book, the world you can roam.
How can travel when I can’t leave my yard?
All you need is a library card.
With free books online, you can read anywhere.
Even if your bookshelf is dusty and bare.
Redbrick ruins front
White snow in April flocking
Blue Ridge Mountain peaks
Man’s reign lasts longer
Then the ephemeral snow
Mountains survive both.
Creeping down the stairs
The Window is prettier
Than the view outside.
Don’t judge the value
by the ornate frame displayed
Pictures may vary.
Anastasia was your name
bringing you haphazard fame
without proof to back your claim
Then, rumors were put to rest
With the results of the DNA test
No longer can anyone cotest
Little girls still like your story
Their favorite princess allegory.
Anna Anderson was the most famous of the many women claiming to be the Grand Duchess Anastasia of Russia. She eventually married an eccentric professor near Charlottesville, Virginia. Her memorial is at the University of Virginia graveyard. Her ashes were buried in the churchyard at Castle Seeon on 18 June 1984.
Click here to read more about Anna Anderson.
Since I don’t like beer, where I write beer–for me think wine….
I think I’ll start the day with beer
So there will be no cleaning here
Once I fill that mug with brew
My daily chores will be all through
Today will have no pain and sorrow
They can’t return until tomorrow
Carpe diem is what I say
Raise your mug and seize the day.
Ode to Chocolate
Chocolate that’s dark
Chocolate that’s light
Or just any chocolate that comes into sight?
Chocolate that’s weak or chocolate that’s strong
As long as it’s chocolate, no choice is wrong.
I like my wine and my rum drinks too
But chocolate, my first love will always be you.
Old Man Winter doesn’t know when to leave;
His long nails are caught in Spring’s lacy sleeve.
Despite her March winds, his grip won’t let go,
His delaying tactics make her progress too slow.
The flowers are blooming, new green on the trees
But the temperatures still fall with each Wintry sneeze.
Temps rise each week to a new average high.
But at least once a week, we shiver and sigh
Let Go, Old Man Winter! Please just say Good Bye!
Why is it Tweed Day?
I’m still at a loss.
Was it a fabric
Or merely a boss?
The British wear Tweed
Professors do too
With suede elbow patches
So their arms don’t poke through.
There is always that someone
It seems quite absurd
That just can not manage
To get the word
Why doe he linger
And act so slow
Didn’t he realize
It’s past time to go.
So why did he linger so long and tarry
The last hanger-on, the red holly berry?
National Poetry Month was inaugurated by the Academy of American Poets in April 1996.
Things you can do to celebrate National Poetry Month (suggestions from the Academy of American Poets)
My recommendation (and one I will once again try to accomplish), write a poem a day.
Some will be better
Some will be worse
But no one will know
‘Til you write the danged verse
The brighter, lighter side of social distancing….
Went for a short walk yesterday during the lockdown.
We’re allowed a walk.
Heard this shouting from a couple of streets over.
People are even more annoying than usual, I find…
Theres a six feet exclusion zone now.
Great. Now I have to let people get closer to me than ever.
It’s usually 15 or 20 feet.’Pauline’ he shouted. Again. Again.
Is it his dogs name? Who calls their dog Pauline?.
Paulie? Mollie?
Has he lost his young daughter?
The noise seemed to be getting further away, says my wife.
That’s because we’re walking, I said.
He didn’t stop.
We took a turn,up a hill. Suddenly out of an alley a young man sprang out.
Looked like he climbed out of a chimney 100 years ago.
‘PAULINE’
We stopped walking,feeling threatened, our exclusion zone was down to 20 feet..
He stopped and stared straight at us.
‘Have you seen a…
View original post 54 more words
World Poetry Day was declared by UNESCO in 1999. Each year, UNESCO meets and focuses on some particular poet and his or her works. Often, the spotlight is cast on poetry written in a minority or even rare and endangered language. Poetry recitals and similar events may also be held in various countries in recognition of the day.
Have you read a poem that touched your heart
Or almost tore your soul apart?
Moved you to tears or made you think
Raised your courage or had it shrink?
Brightened you day or darkened your night
Leaving you shivering in abject fright.
If it made an impact, and you know it
Please remember to thank the poet.
It’s a great precursor for April which is Poetry Month.
Did you know that there was an American Poetry Museum in Washington, DC?
The American Poetry Museum (APM) is dedicated to celebrating poetry, promoting literacy, fostering meaningful dialogue, encouraging an appreciation for the diversity of the American experience, and educating local, national, and international audiences through the presentation, preservation and interpretation of American poetry.
Founded in 2004, APM is one of the first museums in the world dedicated to collecting, interpreting and presenting American poetry. We are committed to the continuation of poetry as a literary and performance art and the use of poetry as an active tool for education.
