Tuesday, July 22, 2008

My Kingdom For A Bit Of Ice

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Sometimes, like when one's synapses are overheated and misfiring, it's just easier to write half-assed poetry than try to string together a few coherent sentences to make an actual post. This would be one of those days. If we're all hot, we might as well be interactive. Your task today is to write a poem on the subject of ungodly heat. I can't promise to send you a block of ice as a prize, but you'll be amply rewarded somewhere down the road. Karma will see to that.

Hazy heat wraiths rising from the pavement
Undulate with wild abandon
Like lost souls, reaching for heaven.
But they find no surcease, not on Earth,
Not in July, and they will descend into
Hell if need be to find release,
And they will take you with them,
No questions asked.
"Bring me ice!" cried the sweltering queen,
"July's holy grail. Bring it in great frozen blocks
and your reward shall be ... inside duty."

I'll give you just a short list of Words Gone Wild blasfomys to study in TWISTED LINGUISTICS lab. Do what you can with them.

encrouching absurdidities
I study my Bible and mediate on it
squeeky clene

And now, get thee into the presence of air conditioning, that marvel of the modern world, and stay cool!


G-Man said...

Inside the Queen?
Hehehehehe...OK, I'll give it a whirl!

The air is dancing
Undulating waves from Hell.
Man! It's Fucking HOT!!!

Hot Haiku for U....


Bilbo said...

Poem coming later...

disguisting - describing a really awful Halloween costume.

encrouching absurdidities - tilt!

wholke - a Jewish prayer cap that covers the entire head.

sacrelidge - bottle tops approved as halal by French Muslims.

misdomeeneers - the ladies in the leather suits, carrying whips.

diaphram - Oh, g, I forgot my protection!

I study my Bible and mediate on it - may as well...you certainly can't mediate with the Islamists.

squeeky clene - a new, extra-clean burning fuel.

screeming - yelling loudly in a voice that sounds like a rockslide.

daugter - someone's little girl is a butt-ugly blind date...

self-righteouess - not only self-righteous, but making oneself an extra s out of it (see, "religious fundamentalist").

liberrate - to assign a numerical value to the appearance of an ardent feminist.

Anonymous said...


DOH! bilbo nailed it!

well, happy tuesday to you, serena joy!

¤ ¤ ¤


Kanrei said...

Outside today
Believe it or not
Even though its Florida
It ain't all that hot
Not like the other day
Or two days ago
Where I would sit on the corner
And watch heat waves flow
They would ripple and wave
Appearing like some gigantic lake
Off in the distance
Relief just a fake
But today for some reason
I am not questioning why
It is just a bit above 80
And the humidity is dry
So I guess what it is
I am trying to say
Is thank you Serena
Of obviously taking the heat away

Serena Joy said...

Galen, you wrote a poem. You get to work inside at the palace today. Chop-chop!:)

Bilbo, you've outdone yourself today with an amazing breadth of, er, definitions. LOL! I love those misdomeeneers. I'll bet this heat would make 'em extra meen, too.:-)

Happy Tuesday, /t.! You keeping cool?:)

Kan, you, too, get to work indoors today in return for your poetry. I guess I don't mind too much taking the heat, as long as it's just for a little while.:)

ThatGreenyFlower said...

It's so hot that the cicadas,
instead of singing,
evaporate and leave only shells.

Serena Joy said...

I wouldn't mind seeing some cicada shells, Greeny. Mine are still raising an unholy din. Thank you for a lovely verse. You may hie thee inside the palace where it's cool.:)

NYD said...

Some day your just firing on all points. Bilbo just knocked the crap out of them blasfomys

misdomeeneers & daugter - killink me dahlink!

Hot! Too hot.
Sweating and squishing from all this damned heat.

The roots of my hair down to smelly feet,
will get no relief while summer mistreats

My armpits are swampy and butt crack's a bog.
I lay in my kiddie pool and swell like a log.

Nothing feels good and nothing feels right.
I'll peel off my clothes and dance with delight.

The dancing was done, solace not found.

I'll peel off my skin and lay on the ground.

I start at the toes and end at my top. A grizzly sight, but I just couldn't stop.
Next went the muscles; I tossed them away .
Internal organs just get in the way.
I sat in my bones while a breeze blew right through me.
I suggest that you try it. You'll feel better, really!

Serena Joy said...

I know, NYD. Bilbo just knocks the crap out of those words. LOL. LOVE your poem and, yes, you get indoor palace duty in return. Ain't nothin' worse than swampy pits and a boggy crack. Can't have that.:-)

Skunkfeathers said...

*tuning fork*...
*shattering ice*

Fire is red, water is blue,
the ice is all melted
and no high ground's in view..

*ducking boos and throwd empty ice trays*

Serena Joy said...

LOL, Skunk. I'm not throwing any ice trays. I LIKE your poem.:D