On Creative Commentary

This is one I wrote a long time ago during a Creative Writing class way back in college. I presented what I thought was a very serious, very deep peom--only to have one of the class members call it "Artsy Fartsy" while someone else labeled it as "Cutsey-poo." I was a little hurt so I went home and wrote this in response.
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The fractal is called Voidstar. I picked it for now good reason other than I liked it.

"Artsy-fartsy," "cutsie-poo!"

Pray these names fall not on you.

For high-flown lines and lyric tone

Bore me through from fat to bone.

Hidden meanings, metaophor phrase.

Twelve-letter words and other ways

Of showing us all how smart you are.

It's really sad you've gone too far.

Yet still I wish you much elation

As you display your new creation.

I know it's coming from your heart--see?

I just wish it weren't so Artsy Fartsy!

The First Meow

I worte this "filk" song (i.e. "parody for those of you not in the know) last December after Robyn pointed out the title from a book of cat-themed holiday parodies. You can sing this to the tune of "The First Noel" (duh!). It is one of my many "Urban Assault Carols" but since it doesn't have a holiday theme I felt OK about publishing this in March.
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The fractal is called Bast in honor of the Egyptian Goddess of Cats. I think the reason I chose it is farly obvious.

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The first “meow” came just after dawn.
While me and my sweetheart were getting it on.
The two of us were both tucked up in bed.
When her Maine Coon kitty cat jumped on my head.

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“Meow!” “Meow!” “Meow!” “Meow!”
Those claws on my scalp sure hurt me and how!

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The next “meow” came late the next hour.
When me and my sweetheart were both in the shower.
That kitty was wet—and mad as could be.
So he jumped up and bit me right on the left knee.

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“Meow!” “Meow!” “Meow!” “Meow!”
The teeth and the claw marks sure hurt me and how!

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The next “meow” came just before noon.
When me and my sweetheart had started to spoon.
The cat jumped up. (I thought he would watch.)
But that horrid creature went straight for my crotch!

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“Meow!” “Meow!” “Meow!” “Meow!”
The pain was so awful it still hurts right now!

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The last “meow” came at Two Fifty-four.
I had packed up my things and was just out the door.
Her cat tripped me up just at the top stair.
And I screamed and I cried as I flew through the air.

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“Meow!” “Meow!” “Meow!” “Meow!”
At least I am dead so I can’t hear it now.

Cali Boyz

I wrote this poem for my nieces Melissa when we were talking about her dating troubles Read it and you may find that it echoes problems found by many single women here in the Golden State. The fractal is called Venus in honor of the Greek Goddess of Love.

OC boys are insincere.
L.A. boys are plastic.
I.E. boys are strange my dear.
San Diego Boys are spastic.
Palm Springs boys are hot and sweaty.
Big Bear boys are way too petty.
Berkeley boys are egghead jerks
Ventura boys are brain-dead flirts.
San Francisco? Don’t go there!
East Bay boyz give you a scare.
Central Valley? Aggie freaks!
Silicon Valley? Total Geeks!
Sacramento? Not today!
I hate the boys from San Jose.
NorCal boys love to hug a tree.
(But why oh why won’t they hug me?)
I tried them all, their flaws revealed.
My God who’s left? Yep, Bakersfield!!!!

The Question Circle

The first stanza of this poem just popped into my head one day so I just sat down and started writing and writing and writing until this popped out. One of the critics I showed it to thought it was an allegory of human life. Another one thought it was nothing more than "free association bullsh#t". I'll leave it you you to decide what you may think it is. I had fun writing it and I hope you enjoy the reading.

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The fractal below is called Cinteotl--I picked it because it was colored gold. Read the first line of the poem and you'll see why.

Have you seen the Golden Queen?

Tell me What and Who you've been.

Tell me of the Things you've Seen.

Then answer this--what does it mean?

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And on your Journey did you gaze

Upon a Pool or Garden Maze

And traveled thence by Hidden Ways

On Paths your feet dare not retrace?

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The Questions circle in a Dance

Ordained by Fate and Happenstance.

And you are summoned--not by chance

To Seek and Find this storied manse.

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Winters, Summers, Spring and fall

Waiting here behind the Wall.

Their metronome a Siren's call

The Measure moving One and All.

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Riddles wrapped in Rhyme and Song

Began a dance where none belong

To send the Dancers--weak and strong,

To places far--both right and wrong.

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The dancers lost in Space and Thyme

Confounded by a Runic Rhyme

All await the Perfect Prime

But fear the Final Hour's chime.

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What's the Key, and where's the Lock?

Whose the Hands to stop the Clock?

How can humans stand the shock?

Why live a Life that Fate will mock?

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The Dancers circle up and back

--the Golden Queen's a Ruined Shack--

And all will Suffer for the Loack

As Lightnings flash and Thunders crack!

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The Question Circle now Complete

You stand before the Judgement Seat.

Did you win through, or meat Defeat?

And is the ending, Sad or Sweet?

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Now if you've guessed what this must mean

To all the Places that you've seen

And all the People you have been,

Say--have you seen the Golden Queen?