January 31, 2005
So today, in a moment of dubious inspiration, i decided that i should hold a 
haiku contest. Like last time, there will be a prize for the winner. Unlike last time, i will pick a time limit and stick to it.
i think KISS is funny, but it doesn't matter if you despise them, or if you're a lifelong member of of the KISS Army. Hell, half the contestants in the Joe Don Baker contest never even heard of the man. All entries are welcome, and will be judged strictly according to my own secretive and arbitrary criteria.
Please feel free to post your entries here by 10:00 p.m. Pacific Standard Time on Thursday, February 3, 2005. i will then select a winner, who will receive a very nice mystery prize. The rest of you i will see in the boardroom, where somebody will be fired.
Update: Thenk you to everyone who participated. Fifty excellent poems were submitted. Now i must try to decide upon a winner.
Posted by: annika at
07:22 PM
| Comments (40)
| Add Comment
Post contains 213 words, total size 1 kb.
KISS had just one goal:
Be the band you want to see.
Then we'll rock n roll!January 28, 2005
Princess Leia knowsIf Kevin were a gigantic slow moving furry bearded ram (and i can point to no evidence that he is not), i might be tempted to dub him the Basho of the Bantha.
she can never tell poor Han
that she blew Chewie
While you're at it, check out my lastest attempt to augment my referrals.
Posted by: annika at
11:25 AM
| Comments (7)
| Add Comment
Post contains 85 words, total size 1 kb.
January 26, 2005
Who never lost, are unprepared
A coronet to find;
Who never thirsted, flagons
And cooling tamarind.
Who never climbed the weary league—
Can such a foot explore
The purple territories
On PizarroÂ’s shore?
How many legions overcome?
The emperor will say.
How many colors taken
On Revolution Day?
How many bullets bearest?
The royal scar hast thou?
Angels, write "Promoted"
On this soldierÂ’s brow!
Hang in there, G—
More: Don't miss the Maximum Leader's tribute to Robert Burns!.
Nor should you miss Queenie's Everyday Haiku. An excerpt:
winter skin itching;lol.
unkempt nails claw at the breast
titties is too hot
And then Venomous Kate, picks up the meme with her own series of haiku:
gray river of dustAnd finally, Cameron picks a fight with modernist shibboleths, with his poem about poetry.
flows along edge of carpet
vacuum cleaners suck
Posted by: annika at
11:54 AM
| Comments (4)
| Add Comment
Post contains 148 words, total size 1 kb.
January 19, 2005
On a Favourite Cat, Drowned in a Tub of Gold FishesÂ’Twas on a lofty vaseÂ’s side,
Where ChinaÂ’s gayest art had dyed
The azure flowers that blow,
Demurest of the tabby kind
The pensive Selima, reclined,
Gazed on the lake below.
Her conscious tail her joy declared:
The fair round face, the snowy beard,
The velvet of her paws,
Her coat that with the tortoise vies,
Her ears of jet, and emerald eyes—
She saw, and purrÂ’d applause.
Still had she gazed, but Â’midst the tide
Two angel forms were seen to glide,
The Genii of the stream:
Their scaly armourÂ’s Tyrian hue
Through richest purple, to the view
BetrayÂ’d a golden gleam.
The hapless Nymph with wonder saw:
A whisker first, and then a claw
With many an ardent wish
She stretch’d, in vain, to reach the prize—
What female heart can gold despise?
What CatÂ’s averse to fish?
Presumptuous maid! with looks intent
Again she stretchÂ’d, again she bent,
Nor knew the gulf between—
Malignant Fate sat by and smiled—
The slippery verge her feet beguiled;
She tumbled headlong in!
Eight times emerging from the flood
She mewÂ’d to every watery God
Some speedy aid to send:—
No Dolphin came, no Nereid stirrÂ’d.
Nor cruel Tom nor Susan heard—
A favourite has no friend!
From hence, ye Beauties! undeceived
Know one false step is neÂ’er retrieved,
And be with caution bold:
Not all that tempts your wandering eyes
And heedless hearts, is lawful prize,
Nor all that glisters, gold!
That was a fun one, wasn't it? Did you catch that not-so-hidden reference to nine lives in the penultimate stanza?
Posted by: annika at
09:13 PM
| Comments (4)
| Add Comment
Post contains 309 words, total size 2 kb.
January 12, 2005
A quick google search revealed that Brittany Spears, besides being a fascinating singer/actress/entertainer/essayist/dancer/amateur physicist/skank, is also a poet. Brittany apparently contacted the proprietors of Tastes Like Chicken, and they agreed to publish some of her very own poetry. Here's a sample:
MOMMY, CAN YOU READ ME A BOOK?Mommy, will you please read me this book?
It made no sense to me when I gave it a look
It's confusing and weird and it is very scary
I can't make out what it is saying to me... ah, Barry
Oh. I was trying to read a book of stamps.
Never mind.
That's beautiful. i think it, like, really gives us an insight into the close relationship between Brittany and her mom.
Go here to read some even better poems by Brittany.
Posted by: annika at
12:40 PM
| Comments (6)
| Add Comment
Post contains 155 words, total size 1 kb.
Celebrate the King's birthday with The Thing About Elvis Movies by gcotharn of The End Zone.
Scorebard of Humbug comments on the recent blockbuster baseball moves with I Read the News Today, Oh Boy.
Blog O'DOB lyricizes the CBS fiasco in Joe Lockhart to Barnes to Mapes.
And from a blogger whose every post is like poetry anyway, Tony Pierce, we have "no one home but the stove and thats fixin to go out." Cool.
Anyone know of some others?
Posted by: annika at
07:09 AM
| Comments (3)
| Add Comment
Post contains 105 words, total size 1 kb.
January 05, 2005
These are the words of Bob Dylan.
Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, where have you been, my darling young one?
I've stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains,
I've walked and I've crawled on six crooked highways,
I've stepped in the middle of seven sad forests,
I've been out in front of a dozen dead oceans,
I've been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard,
And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard,
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.Oh, what did you see, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, what did you see, my darling young one?
I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it
I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it,
I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin',
I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin',
I saw a white ladder all covered with water,
I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken,
I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children,
And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.And what did you hear, my blue-eyed son?
And what did you hear, my darling young one?
I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin',
Heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world,
Heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin',
Heard ten thousand whisperin' and nobody listenin',
Heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin',
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter,
Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley,
And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.Oh, who did you meet, my blue-eyed son?
Who did you meet, my darling young one?
I met a young child beside a dead pony,
I met a white man who walked a black dog,
I met a young woman whose body was burning,
I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow,
I met one man who was wounded in love,
I met another man who was wounded with hatred,
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.Oh, what'll you do now, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, what'll you do now, my darling young one?
I'm a-goin' back out 'fore the rain starts a-fallin',
I'll walk to the depths of the deepest black forest,
Where the people are many and their hands are all empty,
Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters,
Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison,
Where the executioner's face is always well hidden,
Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten,
Where black is the color, where none is the number,
And I'll tell it and think it and speak it and breathe it,
And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it,
Then I'll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin',
But I'll know my song well before I start singin',
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.
i found this one difficult to get through, it's so powerful. Though A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall is from 1963, it seems as if it might have been written today.
Posted by: annika at
12:43 AM
| Comments (6)
| Add Comment
Post contains 616 words, total size 3 kb.
66 queries taking 0.058 seconds, 227 records returned.
Powered by Minx 1.1.6c-pink.
