“Iglish”: palm-burst noise City garden cries havoc Blunt carpe diem Inbred posturing front rows Masks of covetous fury.
The English tanka form has a 5-7-5-7-7 syllabic structure and is written from the poet's point of view.
Update: I think I counted right on a do-over of the second and third lines a day later and a tanka shorter! 😅
For Colleen's Weekly Tanka Tuesday Challenge and Cee's FOTD challenge.
For Cee’s FOTD Challenge, a tree whose split trunks look like a giraffe’s legs uneasily balanced in a tangle of wintercreeper.
Is it possible to go even one day without marveling at the infinite variety of God’s creation in our own backyards? This little garden nook positively proclaims it though it may be overlooked except by the Gardener.
Because of the state-wide quarantines many of the local SPCA’s are having an influx of animals. You have decided that you would love to have a new pet. Would you go the normal wizardry route and pick and owl, a cat, or a toad? Or would you become a more eccentric wizard (like Hagrid, the games keeper) and seek out a three-headed dog, a dragon, or a unicorn? Please explain your answer.
The Dra-Gon: because deep inside this fearsome exterior is a heart of gold, waiting,
to unleash its awesome powers which are innumerable
and jostle one another for supremacy
until they are needed in the hour of greatest need
against that villainous monster, MALADORK, the unnameable but named all the same.
Neville Longbottom was gifted a Remembrall. This was a glass ball that would assist you in maintaining memories of things that you often forget. What would you want your Remembrall to help you remember?
I would want to remember everything good that I ever forgot.
Excited to announce the writer at WalliesWentletrap’s latest: her novel Good To Be Bad, a half comic-satire and half tension-filled, suspenseful young adult novel that takes you on a roller-coaster ride through the world of teenage angst in a dystopic landscape.
Good To Be Bad Are you a supervillain? If so, this may be the super-evil book you’ve been waiting for!
At Walkawai’s Academy for the best and most villainous minds.
Kay Nutter is bullied for her name, her style, her size. Her foster parents’ advice? Bully them back. Kay is determined to be the worst, the meanest person ever. That’s alright. Lex Lattimer has picked tonight, of all nights, to be “Good” for her.
Good To Be Bad is now available and free on Kindle Unlimited.
If you’re not familiar with A. A. Azariah’s work, check out this link for a listing of her published short stories and poems.
Common-Place or “Locus Communis” — a place to remember
In this scene from The Merchant of Venice, Shakespeare has the Prince of Arragon, one of Portia’s many suitors, guess which of the three caskets (gold, silver, lead) contains her portrait. Leading the prince to them, Portia says:
Behold, there stand the caskets, noble Prince.
If you choose that wherein I am contained,
Straight shall our nuptial rites be solemnized.
But if you fail, without more speech, my lord,
You must be gone from hence immediately.
After contemplating all three, the Prince of Arragon chooses the silver chest:
I will not choose what many men desire
Because I will not jump with common spirits
And rank me with the barbarous multitudes.
Why then, to thee, thou silver treasure house.
Tell me once more what title thou dost bear.
“Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves.”
And well said too—for who shall go about
To cozen fortune and be honorable
Without the stamp of merit? Let none presume
To wear an undeservèd dignity.
Oh, that estates, degrees and offices
Were not derived corruptly, and that clear honor
Were purchased by the merit of the wearer!
How many then should cover that stand bare!
How many be commanded that command!
How much low peasantry would then be gleaned
From the true seed of honor! And how much honor
Picked from the chaff and ruin of the times
To be new varnished! Well, but to my choice.
“Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves.”
I will assume desert.—Give me a key for this,
And instantly unlock my fortunes here.
Opening the casket, he finds not Portia’s portrait, but a picture of a fool’s head and a letter which reads:
“The fire seven times tried this,
Seven times tried that judgment is,
That did never choose amiss.
Some there be that shadows kiss.
Such have but a shadow’s bliss.
There be fools alive, iwis,
Silvered o’er—and so was this.
Take what wife you will to bed,
I will ever be your head.
So be gone. You are sped.
Still more fool I shall appear”
By the time I linger here.
With one fool’s head I came to woo,
But I go away with two.—
Sweet, adieu. I’ll keep my oath
Patiently to bear my wroth.”
— William Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice, Act II, Scene 9
Written for Sadje’s What Do You See picture prompt, a response in monkey-ese.
Swishy-tailey, me peek, silly she,
The mugwump bare-skin two-peddy.
Why she not eating
Why she just waving
Oh-boy yellow-sweety thing to me?
Coo-Mummy say, me thinky much.
Growly-tummy say, why fussy much?
“Silly two-peddy she, God bless-bless to you.”
Swishy-tailey, yellow-sweety, woo-hoo! Yum.🍌
Well, you might wonder what happened to the little pantry mouse. She escaped the broom by a whisker and her cute selfie (don’t ask me how) was copied and pasted all over the internet! Then she found on revisiting the scene of her imprisonment, for another selfie, that someone had left a crumb of cheese with this note attached:
Don’t bother me now, I’m in a musical fog
of unknown dimensions, an alien force
overtaking my mind, sane thoughts crumple over,
dull murdered reason breathes its last
while treacherous tides lay siege