Tag Archives: poetry

A certain letter that’s shaped sort of like a hook

Some time back, Andrea of Lip Smacking Wit wrote a post on this meme:

Leave a comment and I’ll give you a letter. Post ten things you LOVE
that begin with that letter.  Then give a letter to anyone who leaves a
comment for you… and the cycle will continue.

Pretty irresistible, is it not?

Andrea gave me the letter J. At first I could come up with nothing except jellybeans, and while I like jellybeans I don’t love them. Same for jelly. But then I settled down and realized what a rich letter dear J is.

Juniper berries: The signature flavoring in gin. Like so many people, I didn’t like gin when I started drinking. In recent years I’ve discovered its subtle wonders. Now it battles bourbon for top spot in my bar.

Jigger: A bartending tool used to measure liquor, named for the unit of liquor is measures: 1.5 fluid ounce. Despite taking a bartending course years ago, I was for a long time sloppy about measuring the ingredients in my cocktails. I’ve since seen the light on this. Unless you have speedpour tops on all your bottles and you regularly tend bar, you need to measure everything to get proportions right. Cocktails are all about proportions.

A poem by Lewis Carroll that’s included in “Through the Looking Glass, and What Alice Found There,” one of the books that influenced me most in my childhood. “[O]ften considered to be the greatest nonsense poem written in the English language,” which, considering the work of Edward Lear, is saying a lot. I can recite this from memory, and if you’re not careful I will. Also, when playing dungeons and Dragons in high school, my weapon of choice was a vorpal sword.

John Cleese: I am a longtime fan of Monty Python and the individual Pythons. As I’ve noted in the past.

Java & joe: As in “I’d like a cup of…” I’ve cut back on my coffee consumption, but I still start most days with a cup. There are few happier smells than that of freshly ground and brewed coffee.

Jazz: The jazz subgenres I like more are hard bop, bebop, and swing.

Jude: My brother, fourth child out of the five in our family. A hard-working guy who can tell you every movie any actor has been in.

Julep: A heavenly drink made of bourbon, sugar, mint leaves, ice, and seltzer. Nothing is better on a summer day.

Jumping jacks: I have trouble jumping rope, due to a general lack of coordination, but I am a past master at jumping jacks. And they’re great exercise.

Juxtaposition:The act or instance of placing two or more things side by side.” I am all about that, especially the juxtaposition of disparate or unexpected elements.

OK, your turn. Leave a comment, receive a letter.

(Photo credit: “Juniper Berries” by kretyen. Post title comes from our friend Big Bird’s “J Poem.”)

Happy birthday, Dorothy Parker

Dorothy Parker was born August 22, 1893. Celebrate this date with a Martini; two at the very most.

Here’s a Parker poem to enjoy as well:


The ladies men admire, I’ve heard,

Would shudder at a wicked word.
Their candle gives a single light;
They’d rather stay at home at night.
They do not keep awake till three,
Nor read erotic poetry.
They never sanction the impure,
Nor recognize an overture.
They shrink from powders and from paints …
So far, I’ve had no complaints.

And a bonus quote:

I’ve never been a millionaire but I just know I’d be darling at it.

(Photo via Wikipedia)

Don’t forget: BlogFest 15 this Friday

Pittsburgh BlogFest 15 is marching up to us — or we’re marching up to it, depending on your views of the passage of time. You’ll join us this Friday (5:30pm at Finnegan’s Wake), won’t you? Details are here as well as here.

Mysterious local poet Carlos the Mackerel sent me a new poem in honor of the event:

Bloggers’ Fest, or a Vision in a Happy Hour. A Fragment. (with apologies to Samuel Taylor Coleridge)

Three days hence, we’ll meet and drink
Near Pirate’s cove, at Joyce’s pub.
We writers all, though none in ink
Blogging what we bloggers think,
      We’ll talk – aye, there’s the rub.
Some blogs, some beers and cocktails fine
We’ll talk bout yours, we’ll talk bout mine.
We’ll discourse on the signs in Mary Worth
And chat about the Politics of Hope.
We’ll snark on the casino’s near still-birth
And wonder why the mayor is such a dope.

No doubt he’ll bring the rest on Friday. (No pressure, Carlos!)

See you there!

A pair of BlogFest sonnets

In my email today, I received the following verse:

Cyn Closkey with your hair all rosey-red
Please tell me of the next new blogfest’s date.
The time as well must get inside my head
For me to be there on time and not late.
I’ll drink a beer or two before I leave
And chomp a pomme frite if my heart so dare.
I promise not to drink so much I heave
For puking would cause pity and despair
A chat with Inner Bitch and Sandwich Mike
And you, of course, the time I’m quaffing ale
A room all blogger full I can’t dislike
I’ll be there this time, promise!  I’ll not fail.
            Please tell me Red; oh tell me date and time
            To miss a blogfest is a heinous crime.

Carlos the Mackerel

 Here is my response:

Dear Carlos Mack’rel, wise and funny guy,
How right you are to query on this point,
For nearly three months now have passed on by
Since last we gathered all to rock the joint.
The summer days, though long and bright and hot
And seeming endless now, grow short again.
Cool Autumn looms. You must think we forgot
To tell yinz where to gather; also when.
In June, we BlogFest planners planned a date,
And all agreed. Then ev’rything went wild.
We were so busy, and that made us late.
I blame it all on Woycheck’s brand new child.
            The date we’ll tell you soon — be patient, sir!
            First we must check the room’s reserved for sure.

Look for an announcement about the next Pittsburgh BlogFest very, very soon. (Sorry for the wait.)

Email poetry

Nonsense And Happiness

Nonsense And Happiness, originally uploaded by tauben.

Today I had this email exchange with a blogger who shall remain nameless (but whom you may call Carlos The Mack’rel):

Carlos: Hey Closkey!! When’s the next blogfest??

MBM: Hi! I don’t know. I think some of the others were discussing that. I’ll see and let you know.

Carlos: you mean you DON’T KNOW??? But you’re the queen of the blogfests! la reine du blogfest!

MBM: Some things are too mysterious for even the queen to know.

Her hair once was red, then not, then again red
Oh, Cindy the queen of the blogfests!
Her drinks are exotic
But not too quixotic
And never aquatic.
WIth signs semiotic
She sips with a flip of her head
Oh Cindy the queen of the blogfests.

MBM: I never knew you were a descendent of Edward Lear.

There once was a red-headed clotskey
Who once read a book by old Trotsky
She flipped through the tome
Then headed for home
Impressed by the communist, NOT-ski

The amazing thing is that the thing about the Trotsky book is completely true.