Category Archives: Uncategorized

Feeble Tries at Olympic Humor, for Fibbing Friday, Aug 2, 2024

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For Fibbing Friday, the prompts are:

  1. The Olympic Games originated in Ancient Greece but in which year were the first known Games held?  It’s all Greek to me.

  2. What prize was given to winners in the ancient Games? The prize was that they were allowed to live. Losers were exported to the Roman Colosseum and disposed of to protect the gene pool.

  3. The flame which burned during the ancient Games was in honour of which goddess? Joan of Arc. (A Soothsayer predicted her future birth and death.)

  4. What was the only event type at the first Ancient Olympics? Discus throw.

  5. Which Roman Emperor declared himself the winner of an Olympic chariot race, even though he fell out of his chariot? Feebleus Erectus the First.

  6. When did the Ancient Olympics cease and why? Not enough athletes left. They’d all been sent to Rome and disposed of in the Colosseum.

  7. In which year were the first modern Olympics held? In the new century, 1900

  8. How often are the Olympic Games held? Too often.

  9. In which year were the last solid gold medals given? In 1907, the year plastic was invented.

  10. In 2024 Paris will equal which other city in hosting the Olympics three times? Barely worth noting as a record, as they were held in Olympia, Greece for 383 years.

For MVB, July 31, 2024

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Abandoned

Shack+Pump3.jpgPhoto Credit: D. Hammock

                             Abandoned 

Grass sways by the abandoned house
I cower inside––a trembling mouse
exposed to the bright flash of day
when all else has gone away.

First my father, then my mum
go away and never come
again to shelter, feed or love.
Life is a winging mourning dove

that makes us and then flies away,
making green grass into hay,
the flush of life and then decay,
a harsh light turning shadows gray.

Life swells  like paint–a curling blister.
It peels away my older sister,
then also takes my younger brother
and never comes to bring another.

A shadow passes over me.
A sparrowhawk. I dare not flee,
for life is mainly perilous.
It makes us just to feed on us.

Outside I see the preening cat.
It waits for me––patient and fat
in tall grass by the abandoned house
wherein I hide–a trembling mouse.

 

The MVB prompt for today is Abandoned. (This is a repost of a poem  I wrote years ago.)

“Weather” for MLMM

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So Fran switches to a spot on the scanner. Roomier and in the sun to boot.
Purple moon

Weather.

That mix of cool and heated,
first energized by  sun,
then gone under cover
when the day is done.

While escaping light for darkness,
we are drained by sleep and night—
come out of hiding in the morning
to glory in the bright!

For: https://mindlovemisery.wordpress.com/2024/07/29/mlmm-monday-wordle-383/   the word prompts are: weather heat energy drained sleep cover dark light escape hide cool mix

At the Olympics Awards Ceremony (For RDP)

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IMG_3700 (1)jdbphoto

At the Olympics Awards Ceremony

You are the one we’d love to beat.
We train, we strain, we sweat. We cheat.
Anything to win the heat
and gain the glory of your defeat.
You are so handsome, fit and neat.
Sure of hand and swift of feet,
with fame and glory, you are replete—
the hero of each match and meet.

You are not boastful, do not bleat
your successes down every street.
You are humble and discreet.
You do not replay and repeat
each mile covered. Nor do you greet
those you’ve defeated when we meet
with prideful leer or smile cloying—
but still, we find your fame annoying.

You win each medal, then repeat
year after year at every meet.
Your well-toned muscles, hair like wheat,
make you every lady’s treat––
propel you to the winner’s seat,
your win made obvious and concrete
while those below complain and cuss.
Could you not leave some fame for us???

For RDP, The Olympics

Crabs!!! For Stream of Consciousness Saturday

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Crabs!!

A consortium of crabs can be an itchy deal.
Not the sort of gathering that one wants to feel.
Perhaps out on the beach it’s easier to bear,
but crabs should never gather in anybody’s hair!

 

Yolanda tells me that when Yoli goes to school, they have to be sure to wind her hair up and put it on top of her head as there are people who steal the hair of children and women with long hair to sell it for wigs. Some world.

For Stream of Consciousness Saturday: Itch

For Fibbing Friday, July 26, 2024

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Spider

For Fibbing Friday, July 26, 2024, the prompt reads:

Something a little different this week courtesy of Jim Adams who has been inventive in making up words and asks us to describe what these, if they existed, are or could be used for.

1) Antiplixen One opposed to the eighth  (before Rudolph) of Santa’s reindeer.

2) Mortangru  A dead kangaroo

3) Clydearum  What Clyde’s wife said to him just before she presented him with the bill to her last shopping trip. “Clyde, dear, um . . . .!”

4) Monogrifrt An antisocial vagabond con man.

.5) Ulangabop An African dance of the 40s and 50s.

6) Krixashobie. Overheard response of one southern boy to another southern boy’s admiring comment of “That new girl Kirixa? She sure fine!” 

7) Xgreapey  A ranking of wine.

8) Knobweg The home of a spider with a cold.

9) Betalafil  What they called the winning falafel in the falafel cookoff.

10) Dvpslyaran  One addicted to the collecting of DVDs.

“Early Morning Alarms” for Writer’s Workshop

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Early Morning Alarms

First the ghoulish yowl of cat.
Then the dogs’ accompanying scat.

The far off whine of the machine
that abets the gardener’s routine.

With creak of valve and scrape of tool,
water streams into the pool.

This water surging from the jet
completes my waking up quartet.

Yolanda’s key turns in the door,
adding one harmony more.

Her music joins the morning’s set
to swell it into a quintet.

What finer way  to stir one’s head
on alternate mornings, here in bed?

For the Writer’s Workshop prompt, Alarm

Summer Rain for dVerse Poets

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The rainy season runoff shoots from the drain that pierces a high stone wall.

Summer Rain

The rain falls
fresh as cucumbers
on cobblestones and tiles,
the dust of another summer
washed from crevasses
and curves of stone and clay.

The air is cleansed
of the scent of primavera,
jacaranda
and flamboyant trees
and the whole world
breathes easily again.

For the dVerse Poets Quadrille prompt: Summer

For FOTD, July 23, 2024

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For Cee’s FOTD

For the Sunday Whirl Wordle 664, July 21, 2024

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Daunting Pilgrimage

The raucous calls of prophet crows warn us of our error
in traveling down this moonlit road, thus augmenting our terror.
Our minds connect as voices recite their trembling prayers—
all our former evening plans now peeling off in layers
as one-by-one we zigzag from our predetermined path,
our former plans forgotten in the aftermath
of dreams of ghosts and goblins that await us up ahead.
The woods are dark and scary, adding to our dread
of the moving shadows and that macabre song
that trembles on the wind’s voice to hurry us along.
The silken touch of terror sends fingers down our spines,
reducing some among us to sniveling and whines.
Of the ten of us who started out, just five of us still here,
our group reduced  one after one as our goal grew near—
an aged house much worn away with one feeble light
glowing through the darkness of this frightening night.
But as its door swings open, all five of us repeat
the words that break the horror of our journey, “Trick or treat!!!!”

 

For The Sunday Whirl Wordle 664  the prompt words are: sing trembling zigzag connected mind silk dreams moon prayers crow road prophets Image by Simon Berg on Unsplash.