Anti-Thesaurianism

Apparently, according to Laura Bloomsbury (tonight’s host over at the dVerse Poets Pub) today is National Thesaurus Day. So…

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Farewell, Mr. Roget

I had a book once. It was a thick,
voluminous text and it was loaded
with words I’d never consider using.

It brimmed with linguistic verbiage,
overflowing beyond my contemplation;
had gobs of expressions and articulations
I would dodge, sidestep, and avoid
at all costs, without hesitation or delay.

I believe in speaking plainly; saying
simply and precisely what I mean,
verbalizing only I intend to convey.

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dVerse Poets Pub
Tuesday Poetics
~ Thesaurianism ~
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Mission Accomplished

Mission Accomplished

He had the softest hands and
she became ecstatic when he
used them to (fill in the blank).

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Tuesday Twiglet #262
~ soft hands ~
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MidJan (A Sevenling)

Sevenling (all it took)

All it took was about half a month of
sub-zero wind-blown snow, frostbitten
snowbanks, and snow-drifted daydreams:

doors remained frozen closed, ice
occluded windowpanes, high winds
removed the roof, bit by bit.

But he could still remember.

No Toe Pro He, But . . .

No Toe Pro He, But …

His lover’s left-foot toes
aren’t a bunch of little piggies
deciding whether to
go to market or stay home,
whether to eat roast beef,
or starve, or maybe just
run on home to Mama’s.
No.

And he’s not a rich man or a
poor man, or a beggerman thief;
he’s just a happy untrained squeezer,
a non-professional rub.

But when he caresses her calf
and works his way down,
all the way down
past the ankle
and she smiles
he smiles

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Miz Quickly’s 1/15 Saturday
~ Negativity Enhancement ~
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Two For The Road

Two For The Road

If you insist that I have to leave today
you know what I’m taking with me
and I know what you’re leaving behind.

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Miz Quickly’s 1/14 Friday
~ packing ~
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Hook-Up Masters Share A Secret

Hook-Up Masters Share A Secret

she didn’t really he said
but I swear to god
no one would know it
just by looking at her amen
to that brother he replied
and added but of course
who’d want to just look
I mean you must have, you
know, just once anyway; she
must have but he interrupted
no really man she didn’t
she wasn’t like that I
know it’s hard to believe but
hard to believe he sneered
I know you dog and I just
can’t believe you never
but he cut him short
believe it he said really
she didn’t we didn’t

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Poets and Storytellers United
Friday #9
~ SECRETS ~
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Nononsense

Thanks to Bjorn over at the dVerse Poets Pub for the invitation to lose my senses, but…

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Nononsense 

“I’m no good at this,” he stated,
“using words I’ve always hated,”
(words like ‘sharmed’ and ‘glode’ and ‘blated’
words he knew he wasn’t fated
to write.)

He wouldn’t do it, refused to play;
but read his cohorts’ anyway
and liked what they all had to say
then closed his laptop, ran away.
Gudnyte.

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dVerse Poets Pub
Meeting The Bar
~ Narrative Nonsense ~
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Thurbone

Thurbone

Morning. Again. And Winter.
Ick, ick, double ick. Icky.

And worse: it’s Thursday.
And it’s morning.
Thursday. Morning.
Ick.

Maybe someone, but not me, sleeps.
I suppose I do sleep
but I gotta say
every early morning
—especially today—
it seems like not.

My joints won’t work.
The bone joints, that is;
the shoulders and the knees
and especially the back.
(Is the back a joint, or
just a bunch of bones?
I don’t know
but it ain’t working.)

I suppose
if I had a few joints 
(dope joints, not bone joints)
and I smoked one or two
before I went to sleep
and one or two more
as soon as I woke up,
then if the bone joints failed me
it wouldn’t be such a pain.

I remember this much:
it’s nice to be out of my mind.
Those were the days.
And I’m sure lots of them
were Thursdays, too,
way back then,
just like today.

Thursday Thursday Bo Brrrsday
Banana Fana Fo Fursday
Fee Fi Mo Mursday
Thursday

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Miz Quickly’s 1/13 Thursday
~ Bonerrific ~
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The Fading Cafe

Thanks to Donna Matthews for providing the provocative Mary Oliver quote as our inspiration for this week’s Haibun Wednesday of at the Go Dog Go Café.

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The Fading Café

“…the sprawling darkness of not knowing.”
(Mary Oliver)

Almost everyone at the café smiles at him, but he’s come to know first-hand that you can’t always trust a smile. He always smiles back, trying to recall most of their names. His usual window seat awaits, looking out on Main Street, or maybe it’s Spring Street –he can never remember which. But he knows how he likes his coffee (black, one sugar, shot of Kahlua) and he’s pretty sure he won’t have to instruct the barista because he’s a regular, after all, and he’s pretty sure she’s been here a while. He’s kind of surprised when she asks.

mid-morning coffee
—tomorrow makes no promise—
evening advances

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Go Dog Go Café
Haibun Wednesday
~ sprawling darkness ~
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Obsessional

Obsessional

I had a dog once.
It was delicious.

I know, I know;
you’ve heard me say it
a million times: every time
someone mentions their pet.

You frown. I get it.
I had a dog once, too.

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dVerse Poets Pub
Tuesday Poetics
~ FOODIES! ~
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