Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Shall I compare thee

to a summer's day?
Thou are more crunchy, and more full of mint.

It's National Poetry Month. Now, I'm no poet (obviously obviously and very obviously). But it's impossible not to love poetry when you like words, emotion, and metaphor as much as I do. So to celebrate, I have big plans. BIG plans. HUGE plans that took MONTHS to pull together.

Chomp chomp. I ate your brethren all away,
And though I meant to buy some more I di'nt.

Okay, I have no plans. But Gregory K. Pincus does. Go to GottaBook, where he will share a previously-unpublished poem by someone fabulous every day. Here's the announcement.

Sometimes too hot the toaster oven shines
And often in it pizza's cheese is burnt;
Oh, every pear from fresh sometimes declines,
And grapes can only last so long I've learnt.

For my part, I wrote chapters 4 and 5 and 6 and 7 and even some of the very end this week...

But thy plasticky chocolate shall not fade
Nor lose the cookie goodness that's within;

Which does not explain entirely why this rip-off ode to Thin Mints stinks so much.

Nor shall Tink touch you after she has played,
For who knows where those dirty hands have been?

Oh well. I promise better celebrations later.

So long you'll rest in your exalted space,
Til Easter comes, and cream eggs take your place.

3 comments:

J. Thorp said...

Jacqui: You. Tear. Me. Up! That's tear, like rip. With laughter. Not "cause to cry."

Mary Witzl said...

This cracked me right up too, especially the toaster oven poem, and the ode to thin mints. Marvelous stuff, and now I feel like writing some odes to food.

National Poetry Month always pulls me right in.

Jacqui said...

Thank you, Thorp and Mary. I read it to Thor and he just shook his head.