The Animal Bus–and we’re late again!

Titus the Dog is driving the Poetry Bus and naturally, being a dog, she is leaning towards pushing our creativity in an animalistic direction.

Well, we were given this assignment, and being oh-so-pressed-for-time these days (we’ve just moved Mom into her new digs and she’s loving it, but it’s certainly an adjustment for every one of us), I managed to rattle off the following limerick (which was taunting me in my dreams the other night). It’s the best I could do at this moment.

It aint’ pretty, so be forewarned!

 

GRIM FAIRY TALE  (Not suitable for all ages.)

 

A lemur, a panther, a lizard

In Camelot, sought out the wizard

The gecko, he spotted

That Merlin was potted

So they slew him and chewed on his gizzard!

 

Kat Mortensen©2011

Rising UP for the Poetry Bus!

See “The Watercats” for the directive.

Busy, busy day ahead, but here’s what struck me in the wee hours (kind of a Bob Marley feel, I imagine).

REFRAIN (You gotta wail it!)

Get it together;
Get yourself in gear.
Fair or foul weather;
The time to SHOUT is here!

Kat Mortensen©2011

Pancake Tuesday on the Poetry Bus

Witty, erudite, and unnecessarily self-deprecating, Peter Goulding is driving the bus this week and I love the task he has set.

Of course, the rondeau or rondel or roundel as it is variously known, is one of my favourite forms with which to work and naturally, I had to do it in the style of the variant devised by Algernon Charles Swinburne, the roundel.  Pancakes, at least most of them turn out round (mind you, I’ve had a few in the shapes of various continents, in my time).  In any case, here is my roundel, a la Swinburne, on the subject of pancakes.

 

THE WAY OF THE PAN

The pan’ s way in the cast iron hollow
None may sense, or none can say
How the heat in her oft will follow
The pan’s way.

Hope nor fear can avail to sway
Boils that bubble on baps that wallow,
Oil and burners that fire and flay.

Watch and wait ’til the syrup follow
Fry and flip and lift to tray,
Sear the batters we’re soon to swallow—
The pan’s way.

Kat Mortensen©2011

Poetry Bus–Moment by Moment

I cheated a bit – this was a deliberation (somewhat), but I don’t work too well with dragging out my ideas, and so, I did work this one over for a while, but it’s not really an example of something built up over a few days, or a week per se.  It is however, a remarking on time itself and how we work desperately to capture it and keep it for ourselves. 
If you’d like to join in on this Poetry Bus adventure, or to see other bus-riders rising to the challenge (far better than I), visit NanU’s HERE.

TIME OF YOUR LIFE

we all have those times (you know the ones)
when life is so good you want it to go on for ever
you play things over and over on the tiny screen
in your head start-stop the projector to relive them one more time
torture yourself with an exquisite montage of vignettes
building to the climax, but you backtrack—cut yourself off with a cliff-hanger …
you know how it ends, but you trick yourself into
believing you don’t remember  how his kiss tasted—
what her face looked like when you first laid eyes on each other
you bamboozle your brain so the pleasure (or the pain)
repeats again and again and again. Don’t you?

Kat Mortensen©2011

Poetry Bus – What I like (and you don’t)

 

 

This week’s bus is being driven by NanU and she has come up with a very interesting challenge.  We are to share something that we enjoy or appreciate, but that most people probably don’t.  I thought about this for some time and came up with some t.v. shows that I watch that most people would probably have no interest in, or foods I like to eat that might not agree with some, or pastimes that I have that might bore you to tears.  What I settled on was something that I find great satisfaction in and have no problem doing.  I can’t tell you the number of times my mother has tried to stop me from doing dishes when we have dinner at her place.  She doesn’t understand that I really enjoy doing them and that I choose to do it, not because I feel I have to, but because I like the feeling of scraping the crap off dirty plates, and I like cleaning coutertops and loading dishwashers.  Actually, I like most housework (except maybe ironing). Call me crazy, but I do!

Visit NanU’s blog HERE for details on this week’s Bus and think about jumping on board with us.

 

KEEPING HOUSE  (a rondeau)

 

I like housework; yes I do;

Doing laundry and dishes too;

My tubs are scrubbed until they gleam;

A spotless bathroom is my dream,

 

With streak-free mirrors, a sparkly loo,

Steel-stainless faucets free of goo;

Spic-and-span is best, it’s true!

A dirty home can make me SCREAM.

                                    I like housework!

 

Whether my home is old or new;

What thrills me most—I’ll share a clue;

Soap-bubbles run in my bloodstream;

Don’t need a maid, I’m my own team.

                                        I like housework!

 

Kat Mortensen©2011

Poetry Bus – A Bit of Just Desserts

 
This week, the charming Kate Dempsey (Emerging Writer) is our driver for the Poetry Bus and she’s given, what I think is quite a fun and interesting challenge.  (Hey, any time I can get my own back on one of the nasties from my past, I’m in!)
The low-down is HERE, so get over and get your ticket!  (Don’t forget to get yourself a copy of the brilliant Poetry Bus Mag HERE).
This is one of those poems that ends up being more of a story and I apologize to you purists who like them to be more poetic.  It didn’t feel right – giving this a rhyming structure, or making it fancy.  I’m just telling it. Period.
Here we go!

LEGENDS



To nine year old eyes, she was two big tires
squeezed into an aqua-marine, crimpolene dress.
Her hair was long, brown and a mess
With strands falling from a slovenly bun.
She told us legends, like how she came
From the Eskimo. She talked whales and slaying seals,
while we envisioned Nanooks, sled-dogs and igloos.
She shared how the bathroom in her house 
put on quite the show—
since it had no door.
Not something we needed to know,
being in Grade Four.
She taught current events in 1970—
The FLQ*, Cross and Laporte’s body in the trunk of a car,
—all very lurid
for a young kid’s day.
When she made Teresa somersault
against her will, we didn’t know it would be her fatal error.
On the next-to-last day of the school year,
she dumped all our tests on a big table
in the middle of the room, told us to “go to town—
destroy!”
All I know is, she cut me down
to size (not very high),
when I tore up the A+ test
of Doug, her Boy Wonder.
In tears, yet defiant, I stormed out,
trudged all the way home—
never to return.
The Parents got together and sent her packing—
back to wherever she really came from.

Kat Mortensen©2011
*Front de libération du Québec

Countdown to 2011 with the Poetry Bus

This is a record for me.  I have composed and now am posting my second Poetry Bus poem in two days!  I posted for Muse Swings yesterday and then came across  a post by Jeanne Iris of Revolutionary Revelry  for the New Year’s bus.  Of course, having read Jeanne’s prompt options, my brain started to do its own thing (unbeknownst to me) and I awoke this morning at about 5:00 with this idea in my head and after a further doze, by 8:30 it had really come into its own. 

Being one also, who has no will-power when it comes to sharing my poems, I am compelled to put this out there straight away and have no strength to hold it back until the New Year (or even a day or so before).  Besides, I may be out on New Year’s Eve (although, more than likely I’ll be in bed before 12 p.m. and sleeping soundly).

So, it is with some guilt that I give you this – early, but no one can say I’m not enthusiastic!

With the waning of this year, 2010, we should take this time to thank Peadar O’Donoghue (Totalfeckineejit), for having dreamed up this idea of a Poetry Bus in the first place—for taking us on a series of wild rides to get us started and then giving us the chance to grab the wheel and step on the gas!  I know this enterprise has been the source of many of my best poems and ideas and it has also given me the opportunity to read some of the finest work out there in the blog-world. 

I’m also delighted to be included in the annals of the Poetry Bus Magazine (get over to that site and order your copy if you don’t have one!) and to have become a part of the voyeuristic participants who look in on the Glór Spoken Word Sessions ustream held on Monday nights at the International Bar in Dublin and hosted by the fine poet, Stephen James Smith.  (Gosh, isn’t the internet wonderful?)

We are all, certainly, looking forward to writing more for the weekly rides and perhaps the Mag itself.  And surely, we’ll be picking up some new strays along the way who will prove to be great discoveries and we’ll welcome them with full passes for a seat on the Bus.

Here’s to the New Year! May we all keep our health, our hearts and our heads and may we find ourselves back here next year, to say the same.

All the best,

Kat

 

CONTINUUM

Sound of wheels
whooshing by
on damp pavement
beneath the still and silent
antique trees
I lie under the duvet
atop the feather bed
on the floor
in the back room
of the apartment
by the exit
on level three
of the building
behind the cookie factory
above the expressway
to the Queen’s highway
running into the city
in the province
with the Capitol
of the country
on the continent
of North America
between two oceans
on the planet
in the solar system
of the galaxy
in the universe
once created.
I am conscious
of evolving
time and space
at the finish
“going forward”
after midnight
and the inevitable things that will change in 365 days by the time we reach this point again.

Kat Mortensen©2010

A Starry-eyed Poetry Bus

 

This week we are driving with Weaver and she has set us in motion with the notion of the one word, “STAR”.  As she says,

“Here are just a few suggestions: a star can be a twinkling celestial body; a sphere of gaseous material held together entirely by its own gravitational field; a planet; a comet; a meteor; a gold star on a good piece of work; any five pointed figure; THE Christmas star; Haley’s comet; the star on the nose of a horse; Marilyn Monroe type star; the star in a school nativity play; an asterisk. Any of these or any other interpretation you wish to put on it.”

As I am wont to do, I have just let my mind free-fall and this was the result:

 

THE STARS ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WORLD

There is a sky
so far from here
where stars like sequins
light up the night and glow—
spangled, blinking
constellated
above the seas
that flow.

I want to be there
to stand on a rocky
promontory
fearing not,
the abyss below.

Eyes up!
Mesmerized
I want to feel
the emerald grass that
lies beneath my feet— and know
the shamrocks
will prevent me
from demise
and Sirius will
guide me
as I go.

Kat Mortensen©2010

Bus-riders, take a bow!

My town this morning, courtesy of the K-W Record

Dear Pub-Bus Riders,

Thank you for jumping on the bus with me, for taking my challenge and spinning it, up-ending it, dancing the fox-trot with it, rolling with it, making it your own and generally, having a blast with it!

I am delighted that you embraced my idea and so many of you were keen to ride.

Each and every poem is brilliant (in its way) and all are worthy of not one reading, but many.

I am sincerely appreciative of your efforts!

Please be sure and check my sidebar at the top left for all details and a complete list of all riders, and if you haven’t already, feel free to have a go! 

Kat

P.S. Don’t forget that it’s still International Put Your Poem In A Shop Month, so get writing, and placing those masterpieces!

“The Whale and Ale” at THE WHALE AND ALE!

 
Greetings Poetry Bus-riders and guests!

I have a little announcement to make:  I have just been informed by the proprietor at the now famous, “Whale and Ale Pub” (actually, they ARE famous locally, for their chicken wings), that they will be putting my poem up for all to enjoy!

I contacted them the other day and gave them the link to have a look and they thought it was a great read, so they want to post it at the actual source of inspiration.

If you’ve not read the poem, you can find it below here, along with a podcast of yours truly, reading it!

Hey, Niamh! Does this count for IPYPIASM?  No! That would be IPYPIAPM! ha ha