Posts Tagged ‘poetry’

10 Days From Now

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May 20th, 2017 Posted 7:31 am

Bow Wow!

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Romantic Curve Intersects With Pragmatic Curve

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October 11th, 2013 Posted 8:55 am

“Ah,” Spence says, “season of mists and mellow fruitfulness.”

“You’re volunteering to rake the damn leaves?” Admin says.

“What happened to the blower?”

Have a great weekend, everybody!

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Sestina (Whatever That Is) By Kirby T. Penworthy

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October 2nd, 2010 Posted 9:55 am

Sestina

This is an homage to Bernie Little
And his partner, Chet the Dog.
They live in the desert
Where Chet uses his nose
To help find those who are missing,
And Bernie’s worried about the water.

Too many people using too much water
And they don’t care, even a little.
Their common sense is missing.
The aquifer worries the man, although the dog
Sees water everywhere, smells it with his nose
Where people water grass in the desert.

But deep in the desert,
It isn’t only the smell of water
That makes Chet ready his nose.
It’s the call to the Little
Detective Agency for Bernie and his dog
To hunt for someone who’s missing.

Once a girl went missing.
Chet found her in the desert.
She said, “Don’t hit that dog!”
They caged him without any water
But Chet escaped, and Bernie Little
Slugged the perp in the nose.

Another time Chet used his nose
To find a Princess who was missing.
She was fluffy and little,
Kidnapped and left in the desert
Cruelly without food and water.
The hero was Chet the Dog.

Again our hero, Chet the Dog
Hunted for an animal with a nose
Long and sinewy, perfect for drinking water.
This elephant was missing
And found caged in the desert,
Rescued by Chet and Bernie Little.

Where the water is missing
The man wants the dog to use his nose,
In the desert, Chet and Bernie Little.

Today, 2PM, Poisoned Pen, Scottsdale AZ: Spencer Quinn

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Birds

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March 26th, 2010 Posted 9:05 am

“In dreams begin responsibility, huh?” says Admin. “And while we’re on the subject of poetry, did we ever figure out who wrote that bowmen thing?”

“This one?” says Spence. “‘We are all bowmen in this place.
The pattern of the birds against the sky
Our arrows overprint and then they die.
But it is also common to our race
That when the birds fall down we weep.
Reason’s a thing we dimly see in sleep.'”

“Yeah, that one,” says Admin.

They’re talking about birds. Birds aren’t my favorite. Ever notice the mean look in their eyes? Would I feel mean if I could soar around in the big blue sky?

“Nope,” says Spence. “But mystery’s our thing, right?”

(Digital wackiness still happening – thanks for being patient, everybody.)

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The Books



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