An open letter to a management company that I have the misfortune of having to deal with

To say your work is second rate
Would give more credit than you’re due
I won’t say that you’re dumb as rocks
‘Cuz rocks are brighter far than you

You claim that you can do your job
You even say you know your stuff
No evidence though have you shown
I have to say”enough’s enough!”

This latest stunt, though, takes the cake
You said to us you’d booked a trade
The plumber, though, had not been called
How long will you keep this charade?

You take the word “incompetence”
To levels never seen before
Each time I think I’ve seen your worst
You find a way to make worst more.

Possible Side Effects May Include…

If you have seen some of the commercials for pharmaceuticals lately, you’ve probably noticed that after the commercial outlines the benefits of any particular medicine, they give a laundry list of “possible side effects”…and often those side effects are worse than the original condition itself.  Therefore, I have written a poem about a fictitious drug that I call “Zinzineeze” (Zin-zin-ease)(because all the new medications have ridiculous names)

Go ask your doc ’bout Zinzineeze
it’s guaranteed to stop your sneeze
You’ll find that you are much more bold
when you’re not sneezing from a cold
the side effects are very slight
they might keep you awake at night
they might make you have itchy feet
or possibly you’ll crave raw meat
and possibly they’ll make you cough
or make an ear or two fall off
your eyes might look like shriveled limes
or maybe you’ll commit some crimes
some studies show it gives bad breath
and sometimes slow and painful death
so go and ask a doc or two
if Zinzineeze is right for you!

NaPoWriMo Day 19 – How to Tie Your Shoes

tying your shoes may sound tricky indeed
but not if you follow these rules, so take heed!
first take both loose ends of the laces in hand
and make them an “x”, and you’re doing quite grand
tuck one ‘neath the other, and then you pull tight!
and so far you’ll see that you’re doing all right
now take one and loop it to make it an ear,
NO! You’re messing up royally. Oh dear, oh dear…
a rabbit ear shouldn’t be that hard to make.
Oh stop, let me do it please for goodness sake
Your shoes are all tied now, so off you can go
tomorrow I’ll teach you to tie with Velcro!

~~

The NaPoWriMo prompt today is to write didactic poetry…in other words, a poem that gives instruction on how to do something

On How Politicians May Be Unwittingly Preventing Alien Invasions

“Bout-Rimés” (boo-reeMAY) is a poetic exercise where one poet gives another poet a list of “end rhymes” (or the last word for each line of a poem).  It is then up to the one who received the list to write a poem, using the given words in order in a poem that hopefully makes sense.  The list given, today, at dVerse was “stay, sits, play, wits, fits, comedy, flits, tragedy, eye, smart, cry, heart, moan, stone”

The green dude said, “I like this place, I’ll stay!
now take me to the place your leader sits”
I wondered if he’d make a power play
or simply wished to test our leaders’ wits
In parliament, MPs¹ were throwing fits
the green dude asked, “is this a comedy?
They seem to act as if they have The Flits²”
But then he realized this was tragedy
“I’d almost rather poke out my main eye
than watch these folks who think that they’re so smart.
Let’s leave, I cannot bear this hue and cry”
I said, “that’s just the way they show their heart”
The green dude spoke out in a strangled moan
“then I’ll away, this Earth’s a useless stone.”

¹In Canada, MP is short for Member of Parliament – the term for those who are elected to represent us in the nation’s capital of Ottawa

²The Flits is a tragic disease on the aliens’ home world that makes them yell crazy things, pound on tables, and act like…well…human politicians

Thomas

Thomas

who was

a young lad

thought church was boring

and he wanted some excitement

so one Sunday morning he brought

a rather large bunch of fire crackers

to the cathedral and set them off during

the priest’s lengthy homily.  Of course much panic ensued

he was punished for using a weapon of Mass distraction.

~~

Today’s dVerse challenge was to write a story (either prose or poetry) of exactly 55 words.  It was also suggested that we post to Friday Flash 55

An Ode to Pie (to 23 decimal places)

A few days ago on dVerse, we were encouraged to write a poem where each line had words, syllables, or metrical feet corresponding to numbers in a numerical sequence.  I eventually thought of the mathematical constant known as “pi”.  I wasn’t sure if this would count as a numerical sequence per se, so I decided to save this poem for open link night.  Each line in this poem corresponds to digits in pi up to 23 decimal places  (3.14159265358979323846264).  Of course, a poem based on pi would have to be about pie.  Hope you enjoy!

I like pie

Yum!

It is simply wonderful

Delicious!

My favourite is probably rhubarb

But I will still gladly eat almost any flavour

Except raisin

Some go well with ice cream

Such as chocolate or apple

Some do not

Take lemon merangue for example

Any meal is better with pie for dessert

Of course pie is not necessarily just for dessert

Shepherd’s pie makes for a great meal

Potatoes, ground beef and vegetables baked in a crust

Although usually round,

Mathematicians say

They are square

But have they ever cut squares into wedges?

But whatever their shape

Pies are really good to eat.

This poem,

Like my insatiable love of pie

Could likely last forever.

Sonnet and Haiku

There is a form of writing that I love

Although I often make a mockery

The style of which I speak fits like a glove

With my own certain brand of comedy

.

With pen and ink on paper do I jest

Thru medium of this poetic form

My slightly twisted mind won’t let me rest

‘Til words tumble out of me like a storm

.

Why tell you of this love in a sonnet

When short lim’ricks have worked for me before?

I maybe should instead use a nonnet

For forteen lines may be to long?  A bore?

.

But Nay!  I had to write this poem ’tis true

This is my song of love to the haiku.

~~

the poèm above

would have embarrassed Shakespeare

my apologies

Thorson Thorkelson The Thord – Part 2 – The Disaster

For part one of the story, click here

The day that The Disaster came dawned like any other day: with the bright morning sun streaming through that one spot between the curtains that couldn’t quite be shut all the way, and hitting Thorson directly in his left eye.   Yes, somehow it was always his left eye that was assaulted by the sun’s first foray into his bedroom.  Thorson stretched, first the right side of his body, and then his left.   He pushed aside his covers and swung his feet down onto the cold hardwood floor of his room.  Somehow, he just knew that something different was going to happen today.

After completing his morning ablutions, he got dressed and bounded down the stairs to the kitchen to prepare himself some breakfast.  First he grabbed the largest bowl in the cupboard and filled it with Fruit Loops, and then he poured in a small bottle of Coca-Cola.  As he sat down to consume his breakfast, he pondered (as he usually did at breakfast time) why his acne seemed to be so much worse than any of his friends ever faced.  He came to the same conclusion as he did every day:  “It’s just dumb luck.”

After breakfast, he quietly put his dishes in the sink (his parents were still sleeping.  They slept in every Saturday morning…which was a bit odd, considering that it was Wednesday…but it was a holiday, so maybe not that odd).  Then he went outside to walk to the local movie theater.  They were showing a brand new film there…it was the opening day for a brand new independent film, and Thorson loved independent films.  The characters were usually unknown actors and actresses, and he liked seeing nobodies have a chance.  It made him feel like he might someday be able to do something impressive…that, and they were almost always low budget, and usually quite cheesy.  He had a rather bizarre love of cheesy shows.

The film that he was about to watch was about a small town nestled in a mountain valley that faces an unexpected volcano.  Thorson had been waiting to see this film for months.  He couldn’t be more excited that the film The Disaster had finally arrived.

He bought his ticket, a big bag of buttery popcorn, and an extra large Coke, then went to grab his seat in the nearly empty theater (not everyone in his town shared his love of independent film).  When the curtain finally rose, he saw the protagonist:  a teenage girl named (in the movie, at least), Jennifer.  She was the most beautiful girl that Thorson had ever seen.  His knew at that moment that his life was changed forever.  He had to meet the girl who played Jennifer…someday she was going to become his wife.  He planned to watch the credits carefully so that he could find this girl…even if the quest to find her would last the rest of his life!

~~To be continued~~  (click here for part 3)

The 2013 Story Project – Thorson Thorkelson The Thord – Part One

For 2013, I want to try something a bit different…I want to try to write a story.  Not sure yet how well I’ll do at this, but I want to try.  I have no outline.  I have no plot in mind.  I don’t even know what’s going to happen.  I just want to write this story a bit at a time, throughout the year.  (I make no promises that I will write every day…in fact, I can almost guarantee that I won’t write every day.  I would most warmly welcome any ideas or comments that you might have on the direction that you want my story to take.  I won’t necessarily follow every suggestion, but it’ll be interesting to see how this story goes.  And now…without further ado…is Part One of my story.

Once upon a time, there was a young lad named Thorson Thorkelson The Third (however, everyone referred to him as “Thorson Thorkelson the Thord” – it just flowed better).  Despite his stereotypical Scandinavian name, Thorson wasn’t Scandinavian…and he had no ancestors named “Thorson Thorkelson”…so how he acquired his rather ambitious sounding moniker may sound like a bit of a mystery.

The way that Thorson came about his name is actually rather simple.  His mother named him “Thorson Thorkelson” after a character she had created for a comic book that she hoped to write (but never got around to), and his dad’s last name was “The Third”.  Thorson came from a long line of the completely undistinguished  The Third line.  If you traced back their family tree far enough, you would eventually come to George Smith The Third.  His  dad was George Smith Jr (or George Smith the Second), and his dad was the original George Smith.  Now when George Smith the Third came along, he was, well…not the brightest burning lantern in the area…he grew up thinking that “Smith” was his middle name and “The Third” his surname.  The family has been “The Thirds” ever since.

But back to Thorson…this story is about him after all…

Thorson Thorkelson the Thord was thorteen (halfway between thirteen and fourteen) at the time of our tale.  He was tall, awkward, and had a nasty case of acne, but despite his gangly bad looks, everybody liked him.  He was a genuinely nice guy.  If he were an actor, no Hollywood director would have given him a second glance…but he might have done quite well in Britcoms…  All in all, his life was pretty good…a bit boring…but pretty good, none the less.  All that changed the day The Disaster came.

~~To Be Continued…~~  Part 2 can be found here