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ConnectHook Apr 2024
BRANDON cranes his scrawny neck
Sniffing for a business deal;
Sailors gather on the deck
Murmuring with mutinous zeal…

They’re bailing water from the hull,
Throwing ballast off the stern—
Captain BRANDON’s brain, half-full
Of shipping schemes, begins to churn.

Sensing profits in the ocean,
BRANDON observes the cresting swell.
In his faltering mind, a notion
Starts to form, and none can tell . . .

Fearing for their captain’s health,
The dwindling faithful check his pulse.
Sensing oceanic wealth,
His ****** muscles now convulse.

Then, hark—a mermaid’s silvery voice
Appeals to BRANDON from the sea:
Come to me captain; you’re my choice.
I’ll launder money here for free
.

“Man overboard”! the sailors shout
As BRANDON flails upon the waves.
Captain’s handlers harbor doubt—
Yet throw the lifeline. Jesus saves.
"Sewing to Rip"

My monostich unraveled when challenged to have poetic meaning and relevance.

PROMPT #11: write a monostich, which is a one-line poem
ConnectHook Apr 2024
Weird wisdom: attractive to some.
While to others, quite clearly, just dumb.
Mystic truth from the East?
Ask your guru. At least
He will sell you a mantra to hum . . .

Western Buddhists: they talk very Zen;
And they placate our Japanese yen
For satori. (and sake);
It’s fake sukiyaki—
The food they prepare, such wise men…

But the weirdest of all of these sages
Is the fake tantric monk who engages
His female pupils
In sin, with no scruples,
And little regard for their ages.
P R O M P T #6 :
write a poem rooted in “weird wisdom”
ConnectHook Apr 2024
Through varied ocean habitats
Queer fish, shimmering, roam the range.
Bewildering diversity
To us, on land, appears quite strange.

From Goby to the great Whale Shark,
Their weight can rise to twenty tons!
Such queer fat whales—one might remark;
(but this offends the skinny ones...)

Some are bloodthirsty; others timid.
They burrow, swim, walk, fly, breathe air...
Do not irritate. Leave them placid
To their submarine affair.

Aquatic warning/parting wish:
Avoid the highly venomous fish.
There are more than 40,000 kinds of fish in the world.
Their habitats range from the profoundest depths of the seas to cold lakes and brooks on mountain timberlines.
They show a bewildering diversity in their ways of life.
The smallest of fish is a Philippine goby, less than a third of an inch long and weighing a fraction of an ounce.
The largest is the whale shark, found in all warm seas. Some individuals exceed twenty tons.
Some fish burrow in the mud, some swim, some walk, some fly, some breathe air.
Some are timid, some bold and bloodthirsty. Some are placid, some easily irritated. Some are highly venomous.
One, found in Australian waters, weighs nearly half a ton and has poison barbs a foot long.
Some of the deadliest are among the most beautifully colored.

PROMPT #4
write a poem in which you take your title or language/ideas from
The Strangest Things in the World. First published in 1958, the book gives shortish descriptions of odd natural phenomena, and is notable for both its author’s turn of phrase and intermittently dubious facts.
ConnectHook Apr 2024
The shock of nothing new is so surreal;
Rebellion filters down and fades away
In images that T-shirt merchants steal.
The shock of nothing new is so surreal!
Nor Freud nor Marx can anything reveal,
And Maldoror has nothing more to say.
The shock of nothing new is so surreal—
Rebellion filters down and fades away . . .
NaPoWriMo PROMPT #3:  write a surreal prose poem

Umbrella to sewing machine on dissection table: I salute you, old ocean/Breton scorns Hippies/Semi-automatic writing bursts from deviant posers in suits and ties/Euro-egghead Marxist manifestos/Hughes was right/the New no longer shocks/who reads Lautréamont?/surreal like a permanent collection at the Whitney/Breton scorns anarchists/politically incorrect smoke fills café/Man Ray meets Apollinaire at debutante ball/nightclub for nihilism’s fools/Dada’s brooding child/Artaud screams Van Gogh! as they forcibly administer antipsychotic meds/subconscious dreams of inevitable commodification/expect predictable juxtapositions/Breton scorns punk-rock/revolutionary footnotes to an arts thesis/who even reads Maldoror ?/dregs of surrealism sold as T-shirts/waiting-room posters/hip postcards/neurosis celebrated/cerebrated/fetishized/fades
ConnectHook Apr 2024
RIGHT KISS INC
GR SIN IS THICK
KITSCH RISING
ST NICKS HI RIG
SICK NIGHT SIR
KNIGHT CRISIS
SIN SICK RIGHT
IS GRINCH SKIT
KING **** SIR C
STINK HIS C RIG
HISSING TRICK
STRIKING HIS C
RICK SINGS HIT
RICH GITS SKIN
S RISING THICK
C RISKING THIS
THICK SIN RIGS
ICK HIS STRING
TRICKS IN HIS G
HISS TRICKING
NGH CRISIS KIT
RISKS ITCHING
I STRING CHIKS
SHIRKING TICS
SICK HI STINGR
SINK RIGHT CIS
NICKS GI SHIRT
If you discover more combos,
or if I miscounted letters,
tell me below
ConnectHook Apr 2024
Poetry, when we first met
(I was too young to read back then…)
Your gifts were gold, and mine the debt.
My childhood was enriched again
And I grew older, full of hope;
I was not yet a misanthrope.

You intimated truths divine
And so I followed in your ways.
Hypnotic flame, I made you mine
To guide me in my dull, dark, maze;
Deep in a cavern, unaware—
Until you led me out of there.

Your lyric beams, whose light is sure
Discerned my unpoetic state.
Shining from realms where thought is pure,
You gave me sight, unlocked the gate.
Some despise your ancient beauty—
Others heed your call of duty.

Loosed from the cave, in sunlit weather,
Freeing souls from those sad regions,
Muse of mine!  We fight together;
Mocking dullness, slaying legions.
You (and Plato) are owed the thanks.
Guide us rightly. Lead the ranks.
write a platonic love poem, not about a romantic partner,
but some other kind of love –
The poem should be written directly to the object of your affections,
and should describe at least three memories
of you engaging with that person/thing.

National Poetry-writing Month
(NaPoWriMo) day 2
ConnectHook Apr 2024
Lost that dull plot so many years ago,
Some guy named Heathcliff, a prim, proper room;
Something dark on the moors portending doom—
(No, wait—that was “Baskervilles”, different show).

A wuthering woman, her savage beau—
A conflict with tradition, hearts in thrall;
Romantic English swoons. Forgot them all
While seeking the plot beneath a willow.

Catherine? Constance? The heroine’s name
Escapes me evermore, and I don’t care.
A Brontë sister here receives the blame

For boring me with chick-lit and hot air.
That’s all I can recall. The novel’s fame
Would indicate there must be something there . . .
PROMPT #1:
write a poem that recounts the plot, or some portion of the plot, of a novel that you haven’t read in a long time.

A poem a day for APRIL !
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