
knapsack & bubble your gum/i.d. & knowledge in sum/the ballerina at barre/hints now as to which way you are

knapsack & bubble your gum/i.d. & knowledge in sum/the ballerina at barre/hints now as to which way you are

It’s been a long time since I did illustrated acrostic poetry on a regular basis. I am rusty. But with more tries per week I will get better.
Work, Dash, and Load are all both nouns and verbs. And make of the Dash a symbol and it becomes a hyphen for Work-Load, a measure of effort-responsibility. We all have our Work-Loads to bear and dispatch; we are all workers. Even comedians work a crowd. 🙂
****
Work Dash Load
When there’s Endeavor there’re tales to tell
Of grind & frustration & Heaven and Hell–O
Revamping redressing on land & at sea
Keep promise & hope though there’s PTSD
****
PTSD stands for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Everyone has had it, but true and faithful Soldiers of all callings, who care the most, are most susceptible. Let us all strive to help those who suffer thus.
(First published on Facebook, not long after the debate ended)
One of the candidates showed these characteristics:
Savvy
Hearty-Handshaking
Energizing
On topic
Winsome
Nurturing
Enthusiastic
Decisive
Healthy
Inclusive
Moxie-ful
The other?
Haranguing
Eewww-y
Loathsome
Outrageous
Sullen
Tantrum-y
In conclusion:
Victory
Over
The
Evil
Bombastic
Lurking
Ugh-Monster
Eventually.

I totally love Effervescence, so when the prompt Sparkle came up I thought of sparkling water. My two favorites are Mineragua and San Pellegrino, though I’ve been known to nip at a Perrier now and then.
But “sparkle” also reminds me of my favorite lyric in The Guess Who’s “American Woman,” so I was happy to spend a little space and time on quoting that lyric on my page.
#inktober2023 #inktober

Wow, INKtober has arrived, and I didn’t realize till a couple hours ago. The prompt is Dream. I did this without forethought and with no photo sourcing, just mind’s-eye stuff.
Speaking of eyes, I have new lens implants in mine following cataract surgery. My eyes are still healing, but my astigmatism is gone, and with the help of reading glasses I am getting a much clearer view. I am grateful for the medical advances that gave my vision new life.
Here are the words to the quickie double acrostic:
Drama Dream
Damn the slumbrous night–so hard
Ravaged memory of char
Ashen Carnage is the theme
Must we one again do harm? Da
Age and Wisdom lend no charm

Today I am 69 years old. I am glad to be here. I celebrate my ongoing life with the arrival of the Blue Moon in acrostic form even as it approaches zenith as I write.
blue moon
backlit trio on the brim
lifted yond the con & pro
unseen force I G N I T E S and Lo
extra luminescent: L i m n


I have just finished Gaudy Night by Dorothy Sayers. It is one of the finest novels I have ever read. It succeeds as a mystery novel, as a period piece, as a commentary on social stratification, and as a complex and magnificent love story. It is the third tale in the saga of Lord Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane, Strong Poison and Have His Carcase being the first two. All three are superb, but Gaudy Night is the capstone.
The three acrostic poems on this page were inspired by the story of Harriet and Peter. The strictures of the acrostic forms I use and of brevity make them analogous to Plato’s Myth of the Cave in terms of reflecting the actuality of the love story, but those who have read any of the three books will hear an echo.
Downfall
Deliver a roman à clef
Designed to cure the blind & deaf
Of incomplete sensoria
Which then restores euphoria
Now Knowledge, that most bitter pill
Necessitates a lonely hill
Free Pass
Fret & weep
Fall asleep
Rouse the area
Raise hysteria
Enter Bliss
Extra kiss
High Time
Heavens! We’ll be late for T
If, though, you’ve the dough-re-mi
Glean & dawdle; twinkle; gleam
Hasten not! It spoils the scheme

A poem that acrosticizes the alphabet is known as an abecedarian. The first three syllables are pronounced A B C. Then say the name Darian, and you’re home.
Aay Bee Cee Dee Eee Eff Gee
Abracadabra, a cadre of dreamers! Whoopee! OMG
Antedeluvian essences wheedle the Infinite
Yes, let us feed wildebeests ending strife in our Noble Cause spree
Since each line has a related-but-different meter, I make bold to suggest that April 3, 2023 is the day Slant Meter was invented. There will probably be zero seismic upheaval in the world of poetry, but not bad for a chubby old guy with a bent heart, eh? 🙂

“Tap” is one of those marvelous itty-bitty words that can mean any of a number of things. You may be tapped for a promotion. You may hear gentle rain on your window. There may be a Raven ready to repeat a maddening word, wanting you to let her in. Or you may be out of funds–tapped out. (I just tapped that on my laptop.)
So I have drawn the master of tap dancing, Sammy Davis Jr., doing what he did superbly. Next to him is a tableau vivant of a man walking, and the tap on his shoulder by a lady who is about to change his life. Next to them is the prosaic and eminently useful Water Tap, based on my bathroom-sink faucet.
Tap TapTapTap Tap
The door goes rat-a-tat-a-tat
To tell a Caller’s on the mat
They may complain about your cat
A dancer taps into nostalgia
And then he has fibromyalgia
As always, Entropy will gouge ya
Penultimately we may gasp
Plead if we hear a gravelled rasp
Perhaps we feel the REAPER’S grasp