Just Another Super-Hero Sequel

I chose Compass Rose 65 as the fractal cookie for this post for one reason only--the red and gold color scheme harkens back to the colors of Iron Man's armor.  (I couldn't think of anything better so I went with it.)  I know the connection is slim but it's the best I had to work with.  That being said--on with the review!
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There's a slogan about New York City that goes something like "a place so nice they named it twice."  The Producers of Iron Man 2 took this seriously to heart--so much so that they basically remade the first movie again.  I was tempted to call this review "Same Song Second Verse--A Little Bit Louder, A Little Bit Worse"--and that pretty much describes the movie.  Iron Man 2 pretty much follows the same path as the first movie--right down to the long, draggy middle section.  The special effects and battle scenes look great but you won't see anything new here.  Everything about this movie is bigger, louder and more bloated--pretty much like any sequel. 
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Yes, there is a lot of cute dialog and the chemistry between Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) and Pepper Potts (Gweneth Paltrow) is undeniable.  Mickey Rourke as Russian villain Ivan Vanko/Rampage is perfectly cast as is Sam Rockwell as Star Industries competitor Justin Hammer.  (He literally steals every scene he's in with his "loveable schlubb" act.)  In fact pretty much all the performances are spot-on--even if the movie is stuffed with too many background characters.  Comic book fan Samuel L Jackson gives an interesting twist to Nick Fury but Scarlett Johansen gets very short shrift (and no back story) as Agent  Natasha Romanoff.  I loved her on screen but was deeply saddened that she didn't get more screen time.  (Hopefully. she'll get more screen time in other movies.)  The character of James "Rhodey" Rhodes gets a major upgrade as he becomes War Machine and a new actor in the person of Don Cheadle.  (You have to wonder how Terrance Howard feels about that...)  Movie Director Jon Favreau gives himself a cameo as "Happy" Harrigan.  (I knew this character's story from reading comics long ago but Robyn was left completely confused.  "Shouldn't I know him from somewhere?" she asked.)
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Iron Man 2 does exactly what a summer blockbuster is supposed to do--provide mindless, escapist fun.  If you loved the first movie you'll probably like this one.  It made 130 Million domestic in its first weekend so people were coming out to see it in dorve--but I didn't hear a lot of people raving as they walked out of the theater.  If you ddin't care for the first Iron Man you have no reason to see the sequel.
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FINAL GRADE: B+

The Disagreement Song

I woke up this morning with this stupid little song running through my head--I don't know why.  Still, it's been bugging me to get out so I decided to write it down so I could get the thing out of my system.  The fractal cookie is called Opposites Flower--chosen for obvious reasons.
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I say yes but you say no.

I say stop and you say go.

I ask why but you don't know.

And round and round and round we go.

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I say lemon: you say lime

I say rosemary: you say it's thyme.

I say it's rhythm: you say it's rhyme.

At least we agree that's it's a crime.

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I think it's red: you swear it's blue

I say it's old: you say it's new.

We both agree it smells pee-yew!

But can't agree on what to do.

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I say he's "Cheech": you say he's "Chong".

I know I'm right: you say I'm wrong.

This fight has gone on far too long.

So now i's time to end this song.

CROSS...

A lot of my poetry is free-association b#llsh#t. This one started out with Robyn and I were talking about about the possibility of her Dad's estate FINALLY settling (after eight months--and that not with any particular complications...) She said "cross your fingers." To which I replied "cross your toes." Then I added "cross your nipples and your nose"--and a new poem was born. I've edited it slightly but I still hope your enjoy my latest foray into nonsense.
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Cross your fingers, cross your toes

Cross your eyes and cross your nose.

Cross each of these with all of those.

That should be enough I s'pose.

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Cross your arms and cross the street

Make it sloppy but keep it neat

Cross the sour with the sweet

Cross the music with the beat.

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Cross the state and cross the line

Cross it BOLD or cross it fine.

Make the long division sign

And be certain that you look divine.

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Cross it little, Cross it big.

Cross a hairnet with a wig

Though some may call it infra dig

And others will not give a fig.

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Cross Uranus. Cross Neptune.

Cross December 10th with the 3rd of June

Cross a tiny fork with a big, fat spoon

Cross it now or cross it soon.

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Cross the ocean, cross the sky

Cross a lady with a guy

Cross your legs but don't say why

You can do it if you try

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Cross a squirrel with an old Oak Tree

Cross what is with what might be

Cross Beyonce with Jay-Z

But if you're wise you WON'T cross me!

The Santa Ana Wind Chimes Massacre

Those of you who are not blessed to live in ScCal have never had to deal with the Santa Ana Winds--a weather event that sends hot, dry gales throughout the region. While they can blow at any time of year the “Santa Anas” most often come in the fall--and when they do it’s always trouble. (Our new home is right at the mouth of Trabuco Canyon so we get to experience them a lot more than we ever have before.) This past Thursday (November 13) we had a particularly bad event--which woke up Robyn and I a lot earlier than we would have liked. (We have three sets of wind chimes on our patio.) I wrote this little bit of doggerel (with Robyn‘s help) to commemorate the event. It is meant to be sung to the tune of Folsom Prison Blues. I blatantly ripped off the title from The Oklahoma Weed Whacker Massacre by Mercedes Lackey so I dedicate this to her.
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The accompanying fractal is Desert Storm--which I picked for obvious reasons (at least if you know about Santa Ana Winds…)
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I hear them chimes a-ringin’
I’m awake at just past Four
They’re bangin’ and a-clangin’
Outside the slidin’ door
I see the Santa Anas just came back to town
An’ if them chimes don’t stop their racket
We’ll have to take ‘em down!
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They jingle and they rattle
They’re makin’ lots of noise
The whole neighborhoods awake an’
Everyone’s annoyed
The Santa Ana Winds
Sure brought some sorry times
And all the neighbors hate us
‘Cause of our damn wind chimes
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But still we’re feelin’ lucky
In spite of all the grief
The Santa Ana’s diein’ down
We’ll soon get some relief
At least there weren’t no fire
Threatenin’ our town
Unlike poor Montecito
Which just burned to the ground

A Random Act of Free Verse

Today's post begins with a fractal called Autumn Flower. It seemed appropriate for a poem about October: the poem has no title, but I suppose you could call it "October Turns" if you must give it a name.
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October Turns
Outward.
October Turns
To festivals and family as the days grow short.
October Turns
To hearth-fires as the nights grow long and chill.
October Turns
To hearth-fires as the nights grow long and chill.
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October Turns
To misty, cool-shouldered mornings.
October Turns
To buttery golden afternoons.
October Turns
To velvet nights alive with stars.
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October Turns
To sudden heat infused with summer airs.
October Turns
To shades of red and gold.
October Turns
To fields heavy with harvest and gardens ready to sleep
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October Turns
To wool and flannel, to hats and gloves.
October Turns
To a word waiting for winter
October Turns
Inward.

Remember: a poem for Memorial Day

Every now and then I'm struck by a random act of poetry. Saturday May 24 was such a day. The whole poem more-or-less entered my mind in one piece. I jiggered it a bit and present the final result for your entratainment. The accompanying fractal is called Rose Window.

REMEMBER
Remember our Nation’s DeadT

he soldiers who fought and diedThose who took up arms to serve as need.

They died doing what they could.

Honor them.

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Remember the Unknown Dead.

The ones with nobody to mourn their passing.

Those who are lost. Those who are alone.

The world is a sadder place for their loss.

Weep for them.

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Remember your Family Dead.

The Mothers and Fathers who shaped you.

Those good people who cared for you.

Those who were always there no matter what.

Love them.

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Remember the Living.

The children, good friends and strangers all.

Those who walk the road of life with you.

They are your fellow travelers.

Help them.

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Remember Yourself.

The only constant you have though your whole life.

That which is uniquely and especially you.

For you are special.

Celebrate.

"Wreck the Malls" (an "Urban Assault" carol)

I don’t have an unlimited supply of Christmas-themed fractals so I decided to go with one called Winter Wreath. (Dunno how many more “urban assault” carols I’ll be posting but I thought you’d get tired of an endless series of Holiday-themed images.) As for the song-- you can probably figure out that this is my own parody of “Deck the Halls”: as far as I know it sprang from my own fevered imagination. After the fact I learned of a song of the same title by the Bob Rivers Comedy Corps (with the same theme and similar lyrics) but I promise you I’ve never heard it. Maybe this is a case of great minds thinking alike…

Wreck the Malls this Christmas Season
Nyan-nyan-nyan-nan-nyan-nyan-nyan-nyan-nya!
Punch a sales clerk for no reason.
Nyan-nyan-nyan-nan-nyan-nyan-nyan-nyan-nya!
Steal some gifts then trash a dsplay
Nyan-nyan-nyan-nan-nyan-nyan-nyan-nyan-nya!
Celebrate the season this way!
Nyan-nyan-nyan-nan-nyan-nyan-nyan-nyan-nya!
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Taunt and moon the Christmas Singers
Nyan-nyan-nyan-nan-nyan-nyan-nyan-nyan-nya!
Steal the cash from those bell ringers.
Nyan-nyan-nyan-nan-nyan-nyan-nyan-nyan-nya!
Key some cars then slash their tires.
Nyan-nyan-nyan-nan-nyan-nyan-nyan-nyan-nya!
Light some lovely Yuletide fires.
Nyan-nyan-nyan-nan-nyan-nyan-nyan-nyan-nya!
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All attack the fat old Mall Cop
Nyan-nyan-nyan-nan-nyan-nyan-nyan-nyan-nya!
Punch his face, kick his butt! Don’t stop!
Nyan-nyan-nyan-nan-nyan-nyan-nyan-nyan-nya!
Insult the shoppers on your rambles.
Nyan-nyan-nyan-nan-nyan-nyan-nyan-nyan-nya!
Leave the Mall in total shambles.
Nyan-nyan-nyan-nan-nyan-nyan-nyan-nyan-nya!

Jingle Bells for the 21st Century (an "Urban Assault" Carol

Today’s post begins with a fractal called Abstract Christmas Bells. Since I’m posting my own version of “Jingle Bells” it seemed quite appropriate. As for the “carol” itself--I unabashedly stole the first two lines from a comedy bit from the Rick Dees in the Morning show (when he was still on KIISFM). The way it was preformed suggested the rest of the song to me.

CHORUS
Jingle bells, jingle bells! Let’s go all the way!
It’s so nice to know for sure that Santa isn’t gay. (Yay!)
Jingle bells, jingle bells! Let’s go all the way!
It’s so nice to know for sure that Santa isn’t gay.
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I went off to the Mall--to buy a gift or three.
I smiled at Santa Clause. He waved and winked at me.
He said: “we should hook up--and maybe have a drink.”
I thought it sounded good to me. “I’ll be back in a blink!”
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REPEAT CHORUS
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We ended up in back of a really cute Boutique.
Then Santa grabbed my butt and tried to kiss my cheek.
I said “don’t touch me there!” but Santa wouldn’t stop.
And so I filed a big law suit--and now I own his shop!
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REPEAT CHORUS

The Imigrants Oh Christmas Tree (an "Urban Assault" Carol)

Like so many bits of my doggerel this one got started when I was fooling around (On this particular occasion I was singing "O Christmas Tree" in a thick Mexican accent.) Words started tumbling out and before I knew it I had three stanzas of yet another "urban assault" carol Trying singing it aloud (in the accent of your choice) and you find it works quite well. The fractal that goes with this post is called Christmas Tree (what else?)

O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree!
Please tell me when Christmas will be.
O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree!
Please tell me when Christmas will be.
Is it here now--or coming soon?
Is it in April, May or June?
O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree!
Please tell me when Christmas will be.

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O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree!
There’s something that’s been bugging me.
O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree!
There’s something that’s been bugging me.
I’ve seen your stuff up in the store
For seven months--no eight or more!
O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree!
There’s something that’s been bugging me.

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O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree!
Can someone please explain to me?
O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree!
Can someone please explain to me?
The parties and the gifs are nice--
What’s this about the birth of Christ?
O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree!
Can someone please explain to me?

Movin'On

Today’s post begins with a fractal called Moving On. Today’s poem is entitled Movin’ On which I wrote way back in 1975 as a college class assignment. I used to write a lot of stuff like this back in the day so I thought I’d share some of that work.

Autumn leaves
Blowing down cold, dawn-lit streets
Rustling like an old woman’s skirts.
Carrying away my shattered hopes
Going nowhere, as I am
Movin’ on.
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School children
Playing on fresh-cut morning lawns
Singing like sun-crazed birds,
Preying on my innocent dreams.
Never caring, as I once was
Movin’ on.
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City traffic
Crawling among day-dark downtown canyons
Growling like an angry beast,
Rolling over my unwanted hate.
Going nowhere, as I am
Movin’ on.
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Wilderness flowers
Weaving through their daily, dreamlike ballet
Waltzing in breeze-driven arabesques
Mocking my wasted life.
Never caring, as I once was
Movin’ on.
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Cumulus clouds
Coursing over the sunset diorama
Fleeing like a frightened street mob
Magnifying my unlimited fears.
Going nowhere, as I am
Movin’ on.
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Glittering stars
Spinning on their night-dark carousel
Droning like rainbow-hued bes
Releasing my final thoughts
Never caring, as I once was
Movin’ on.

I'm Still Here

Today's post begins with a fractal called Serenity Infinity. It seemed an appropriate choice for a poem about reincarnation. Now--some info about what you'll be reading ...

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I'm Still Here was written by Stephen Sondheim for his Broadway show Follies. The song tells the story of a woman who's been through a lot of changes in her life yet somehow is still up and kicking. This got me thinking about someone who has lived life after live--and thus I wrote this. Hope you enjoy it.

* * * * *

Good lives and bad lives. I’ve had ‘em all, now I’m here!
Happy and sad lives, short lives and long ones my dear, mow I’m here.
Had a coronary while playing cards
Crushed by a boulder–that was hard.
Been a Detective for Scotland Yard–now I’m here.
I spent a life making beer–now I’m here!

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I’ve been a wombat. I’ve been a Kodiak bear--now I’m here.
I died in combat, next life I lost all my hair--now I’m here.
I was a Monarch Butterfly.
Been Mahatma Gandhi-–what a guy!
I was a nudist-–don’t ask me why my dear.
I’ve been exceedingly queer–now I’m here!

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I’ve gotten through Crromwell and various witch hunts
Gee, that was fun and a half!
I made it through bubos but died of a flu bug.
What can you do but just laugh?

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Died playing baseball, lived through the Siege of Berlin–-now I’m here.
On the Titanic, died when the water rushed in-–now I’m here.
I was a bath slave in ancient Rome.
I was a trapper up in Nome.
I was a spinster who never left home-–now I’m here.
I milked a lot of reindeer. Now I’m here!

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I’ve lived with riches. I’ve been a mother of four–-now I’m here.
Sell-swords and witches–one life I begged door to door-–now I’m here.
I ruled a Kingdom in the East then I was trampled by a beast.
I choked to death at a feast. Now I’m here.
I’ve been the best to the least—now I’m here!

But I'm still heeeeere!

Chri$tma$ At Costco

Today's post begins with a fractal called Tis The Season. If you haven't already figured out the reason I chose the image then you probably won't get it from my explanation. ANYway--on with the explanation for writing this poem.

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I really like Costco: we buy the bulk of our food at Costco and that's where we buy our gas and get our prescriptions filled. I also love Christmas--the presents, the decorations, everything about it! But it bothers me that Costco starts putting out their Christmas stuff WAY too early! Thus I wrote this little ditty for your listening and dancing pleasure.

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It’s Chri$tma$ at Costco
Let the bells ring out with joy!
It’s Chri$tma$ at Costco
For every little girl and boy!
It’s Chri$tma$ at Costco
All the crap is on the shelves
It’s Chri$tma$ at Costco
So you’d best prepare yourselves.
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It’s Chri$tma$ at Costco
Lots of things for homes and yards
It’s Chri$tma$ at Costco
Buy a thousand Chri$tmas$ Cards!
It’s Chri$tma$ at Costco
A fully-decorated tree
It’s Chri$tma$ at Costco
Giant Stars in packs of three!
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It’s Chri$tma$ at Costco
You must not sit on the fence
It’s Chri$tma$ at Costco
Purchase lights and ornaments
It’s Chri$tma$ at Costco
Buy your gifts from here and yon
It’s Chri$tma$ at Costco
Come December its all gone
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It’s Chri$tma$ at Costco
Everything you want or need
It’s Chri$tma$ at Costco
Buy it now, yes, yes, indeed!
It’s Chri$tma$ at Costco
Get a gift for gal or dude
It’s Chri$tma$ at Costco
Be it tchotchkes, clothes or food
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It’s Chri$tma$ at Costco
Sound the horn and beat the drum
It’s Chri$tma$ at Costco
Yes that happy time has come.
It’s Chri$tma$ at Costco
And it couldn’t get much worse
Yes it’s Chri$tma$ at Costco
Since it’s just September First!

A "Politically Correc"t Nursery Rhyme

Today's fractal, Peachy, isn't relative at all to the image. I just picked it because I hadn't used anything of this color before. As for the poem--I remember reading like "in the politically-correct world of today's Nursery Rhymes relevant content is more important than that the poem rhyme or scan." At that point I just had to write one. The poem and image are dedicated to my two newest grand-nieces Madison and MacKenzie Manley who were born to their parents "Mance" and Mennifer" on July 14.

Little Ms. Muffet, a Mayor

Relaxed in a comfortable chair

After a refreshing jog.

A Spider of a different social strata

Approached her with an ethnic matter.

And she engaged it in meaningful dialog.

More "Free Association Bullsh##"--this time with Robyn's Help!

Today’s post begins with a fractal image called Zimple Zpiral. It has no relevance whatsoever to the poem below. (I just picked it because I thought it was pretty and it has a mostly-black background.)
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As for the poem itself, Robyn and I wrote it together way back in 1979: It was our first collaborative poem. We think it was supposed to be part of something larger but can’t remember what. In the end, I suppose this is just more “free-association bullsh#t that rhymes and scans. That, and I’m way to enamored of Lewis Carroll’s poetry.

ONCE UPON A NIGHTMARE

It was once upon a Nightmare
In the Land of Broken Dreams.
With a King who rules All Emptiness
Where’s nothing’s as it seems.
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The King dwelt in his palace
Of Fantasy and Light.
He chained the Sun so it would stay
And hide him from The Night.
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For he feared the Truth of Darkness
In a world he sought to bind
Lest some Dragon of the Real World
Blast the Gardens of his Mind.
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A Gift they brought unto him.
A Maiden Wise and Fair
A gift of love--or so they said
For the Kingdom dying there.
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He loved the maid and Wed her
And gave his pow’r away.
Then she Betrayed her Husband-King
And held him in her sway.
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She broke his Will. She broke his Mind
And killed The Land with Magic.
The King fought back but could not win
Which made his Fall more tragic.
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She drove him to the Brink of Doom
And set the Sun to fleeing.
The Truth laid bare, she showed him there
In the Darkness for his seeing.
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She buried all his wondrous dreams
So he could not see or feel them.
And laid a Curse on the tiny box
So he dared not try to Steal them.
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When she was done the King was gone.
(He would not Live his Fate.)
And she did not see his Final Jest
Until it was too late.
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For with his dreams the King had fled.
Into the Box she Sealed
And left him with a Wounded Soul
That never would be healed.
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So now there’s just the Nightmare
In the Land of Broken Dreams
And a Queen who rules the Emptiness
But her grief is what it seems.

Yestergay

Today's post begins with a fractal called Marital Pride and I'll leave it to you to decide the relevance to the post below. The first few lines of this riff on the Beatles' song "Yesterday" after I heard the word "Yestergay" on a VH1 program sometime in the spring of 2006. After reviewing this I'm not sure it's one of my best efforts but I thought I'd put it out for your perusal.

Yestergay
You were gay but now you’re straight today.
Your preference have gone the other way.
How can this be, my Yestergay?

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Suddenly
You’ve decided you’re as straight as me
And I wonder just how this can be.
Oh yestergay, came suddenly.

-
Why this thing is so,
I don’t know, and you can’t say.
I said “something’s wrong!”
How I long for yesterday (ay-yay-yay) yesterday.

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You’d light up a room with your sashay.
Now you’re hitting on my girl today.
I don’t believe this, yestergay!

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Why this thing is so,
I don’t know, and you can’t say.
I said “something’s wrong!”
How I long for yesterday (Oy-vey-yey) yesterday.

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I don’t see
The point of metrosexuality.
Why can’t we all be what we’re meant to be?
Then we could all live happily!
Mmm-mm-mm. I don’t believe in–yestergay.

The Sunworshippers' Ballad

This poem (written in May of 1979) was inspired by a foggy day on San Diego Bay. I didn’t realize my skin had been cooked until I got back to shore and the sun hit me. (Ouch!) The fractal image is called Huitzilopochtili, named after the Aztec God of Fire. Read the poem and you’ll understand.

I’ll sing you a song of a handsome young couple
Sing nonny-nonny-ho, nonny-hey!
Their bodies were muscled, quite graceful and supple
Hey nonny-nonny-ho, nonny-hey!
But one day last fall
These two met their downfall
At the beach on an overcast day.
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The maiden she swam in the cool-blue sea water
Sing nonny-nonny-ho, nonny-hey!
And a youth and I watched what we shouldn’t ought'er.
Hey nonny-nonny-ho, nonny-hey!
And the Lord then us blessed
As the maiden undressed
To catch her some sun at mid-day.
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We watched from the shelter of high-growing plants
Sing nonny-nonny-ho, nonny-hey!
Said the youth “I must have her!” as he dropped his short pants.
Hey nonny-nonny-ho, nonny-hey!
Said I, “you won’t mind
I’ll remain in the blind.
You’ve no competition today.”
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The naked young rowdy approached the sweet lass
Sing nonny-nonny-ho, nonny-hey!
And she slapped him quite soundly--the lady had class
Hey nonny-nonny-ho, nonny-hey!
She ran for the water
And that’s where he caught her
And dragged her protesting away!
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But her screams of dismay very soon turned to laughter
Sing nonny-nonny-ho, nonny-hey!
As the maiden found out what her young man was after
Hey nonny-nonny-ho, nonny-hey!
And while I boldly watched
They danced and debauched
All their pleasure was there on display.
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And after the romp the two fell off to sleep
Sing nonny-nonny-ho, nonny-hey!
Then in rolled a fog that was quite thick and deep.
Hey nonny-nonny-ho, nonny-hey!
And I saw with sad eyes
What a nasty surprise
They would get at the end of the day.
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She sunset was nigh she awakened her swain
Sing nonny-nonny-ho, nonny-hey!
She did it by screaming and yelling in pain
Hey nonny-nonny-ho, nonny-hey!
For although it was Autumn
Her back and her bottom
Were cooked like a well-done filet.
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He awoke to her moaning and added his cry
Sing nonny-nonny-ho, nonny-hey!
“Sweet Jesus and Mary! I’m going to die!”
Hey nonny-nonny-ho, nonny-hey!
On his back he had lied
And his “beef stick” was fried
(What did you expect me to say?)
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I took them and bathed them and put them on ice
Sing nonny-nonny-ho, nonny-hey!
(I did it because I‘m so terribly nice)
Hey nonny-nonny-ho, nonny-hey!
For their horrible pain
Nearly drove them insane
And “I warned you” was all I would say.
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So there is the lesson--you can take it from me
Sing nonny-nonny-ho, nonny-hey!
The advice is quite good and I offer it free
Hey nonny-nonny-ho, nonny-hey!
For a burn without sun
Isn’t very much fun
So beware of an overcast day!

Thus one was inspired by Robyn's Mom...

Today's post b3gins with a fractal called Roses for Mother since it was Robyn's Mom who inspired the work. She once said: "you're so talented and creative--why can't you clean up after yourself?" and I was off and running. In the end I think it expresses the frustration that parents often feel with their children. And, as you can see--I've also been writing silly doggerel for many, many years. (I've also been doing strange things with capitalization . . .)

Can you hear my silent song?

A chordless melody

Can you reach the farthest star

And bring it down to me?

* * *

Can you say some garbled words

That cast a Spell of Love?

Can you climb the Stair of Smoke

That leads to Realms Above?

* * *

Can you see the Mystic Jewel,

The Key to the Crystal Maze?

Can you shine a Bacon Light

To penetrate the Haze?

* * *

Now can you move the World for me

And make the Sun stand still?

Then can you turn the Moon to cheese

And then go eat your fill?

* * *

My dear your gifts are great enough

To halt onrushing Doom.

But though you do these won'd'rous things

Why can't you clean your room?

* * *

In Praise of Cats

This post begins with the fractal image called Feathery Crown. It has no relation whatsoever to the poem below (well maybe because cats like to play with feathery cat toys) but I thought it was kind of pretty.
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I am not an advocate of eating pets (unless one is really, really hungry!) but I'm much more a fan of canines then felines. This poem sprang from a quick made by my friend "Rook" Ransey. He said: "people who don't like cats just don't know how to cook 'em!" and this poem took shape in a matter of minutes.

Cats are lovely. Cats are good.

Cats enrich your neighborhood.

Cats are perfect. Cats are fine.

Cats taste best when cooked with wine.

Boiled or baked or in a stew

Feline meat is good for tyou.

So, served in sauce or en flambe

Lets all eat pussy every day!

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.