Inspired/Written for Pooky’s Poem Daily Prompt: A Haiku from your window
pit pat pit pat pit
white sparkles fall from grey clouds
winter is coming
Tag: writer
Confusing Figure of Speech, Fair Dinkum!
Twas Winter in Melbournia
students rugged up in coats and scarves
sipping on lattes and mochas
sitting where the benches were carved.
Huddled in a tiny horse-shoe
telling tales of the lost weekend
I listened carefully; laughed on cue
an outcast amongst Aussie friends.
A tale of breakdowns on bridges
and how we’d walked 5k’s to town
along the highway, fighting the midges
drowning as the rain raced down.
“Wow, Fair Dinkum, girls!”, Al exclaimed.
I just smiled; and nodded; coughed “Yeah…”
Being new to this Aussie game
Oh, how I felt like a silly mare!
I looked at Al all befuddled
and he told me the whole story.
What he’d heard had him bubbled
and he wanted truth in our glory.
Fair Dinkum.
Inspired by Pooky’s Poems: Confusing Figure of Speech
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Who has the fish?
Oh, Mr Einstein! How befuddling
you have me questioning and wondering.
If Britain is red; then who is the green
the Swede may have dogs; but where are they seen?
I wrote them out in spider diagrams
but the lines were baffling, my poor hands
needed to spread out across the spreadsheet
twas logical and a little more neat.
But I can’t figure out the German
I know he smokes! But what else can I learn?
Oh, Mr Einstein, it’s taken me hours
and only 2% have these powers?
Asking us questions like, Where is the fish?
Mind-boggling riddle, you just had to dish…
I would love to say that I mastered it
but alas, nay, I may have googled it!
The above, a result of a befuddling brain teaser a co-worker e-mailed me today. Written by Einstein the 19th Century predicting/stating only 98% of the population would be able to solve it. Well, I do like a challenge. I took it on. I failed. I succumbed to the easiness and peer pressure that was Google. I found the answer – went back to the riddle and still couldn’t see where I had gone wrong! C’est la vie.
Just for fun here is the riddle:
Five homeowners lived in five separate houses that were five different colours.Each homeowner was of a different nationality, drank a specific beverage, smoked a specific brand of smokes, and a kept a specific pet. No owners had the same pet, brand of smoke, or drink.
The Clues:
1. The Brit lives in a Red house.
2. The Swede keeps a dog.
3. The Dane drinks tea.
4. The Green house is on the left of the White house.
5. The Green homeowner drinks coffee.
6. The person who smokes Pall Mall keeps Birds.
7. The owner of the Yellow house smokes Dunhill.
8. The man living in the central house drinks milk.
9. The Norwegian lives in the first house.
10. The man who smokes Blend lives next to the man who keeps Cats.
11. The man who keeps Horses lives next to the man who smokes Dunhill.
12. The owner who smokes Camel drinks Beer.
13. The German smokes Marlborough.
14. The Norwegian lives next to the Blue house.
15. The man who smokes Blend has a neighbour who drinks water.
With that in mind, Who Keeps The Fish?
Give it a whirl, let me know how you went… with or without Google… I promise I won’t judge!
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Almost Twenty Little Poetry Projects
Today was one of those days… for everyone else. It started with a Melbourne Metro Meltdown – it involved rats and fire! (I dare you not to click the link now! But come back,if you do). I wasn’t affected until I was asked to channel my inner minion and do the morning coffee run. As I was standing in the painfully long queue of damp Melbournians I avoided all eye contact and browsed the internet on my phone, as you do, and other than reading all the lovely likes and comments on my WordPress reader (go team!) I stumbled on NaPoWriMo website. I don’t know it happened it just did. Anyway I saw the Day 29 prompt – “Twenty Little Poetry Projects” and thus started a tennis game in my head. Well, not tennis, but one half of the brain was “you’ve posted your Day 30 give yourself a break” and the other half was “pfft, challenge accepted”. Well, work was quiet today and I’m posting here so I assumed you’ve all concluded which side of the brain won. So with out further ado, and apologies for the long winded introduction I give you my-almost-twenty-poetry-projects-poem.
So, Wednesday happened.
Waltzing through the epic commuter show
avoiding a woeful Richmond station.
She wrapped her hand around a ‘cuppa joe’
which stimulated this pointless narration.
She sat at her desk by a stormy scene
and waited for her universe to light up
Orange windows flash-dancing on her screen
reflection of words in her java cup.
“Good Morning Miss Charlie – Are you here yet?
Can you help me a with little something?
Trainaggedon – No, it’s not a threat
I’m late; Need mojo; but calls are waiting!”
Ah, the sweet aroma of cocoa beans
hot lattes of satisfaction
just a hasty injection of caffiene
then he can give you your explanation.
Evil calendars begin at nine
her face turns red at the sound of ‘tick tock’
Sure, Alfie will be back at her desk on time
twiddling her fingers; waiting for the clock.
C’est la vie.
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#NaPoWriMo Day Thirty – “April’s Journey”
She noticed the line between B and D
on the worn out stone in that photograph
and thought, what could that line possibly mean?
When she leaves here, she’ll paint an autograph
of all her thoughts, moments and poetry
signed, sealed, delivered with a smile and laugh.
Walking through time, her quest to history
where she wrote letters on a Wiltshire hill
pondering the worlds greatest mysteries.
Lie with her in fields of daffodils
as she gazes into Albion’s windows
from the grassy bench of Salisbury’s windmills.
Or find her dancing sunshine and rainbows
as she encounters New York Down Under
April Twenty Fourteen was quite a show
just like lightening in a storm of thunder.
Her line tastes like chai latte on Mondays
a blissful moment her heart could plunder
From point B, the line is a disarray
of wibbly-wobbly moments
just waiting to be played.
Prompt: All the 29 poems I’ve written this NaPoWriMo 2014.
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#NaPoWriMo – Day TwentyNine – ” I’m Still Cooking”
Amy: Who are you?
The Doctor: I don’t know yet. I’m still cooking.
Grease a standard humanoid
lightly brush with Sigmund Freud.
Blanch in Gallifree spirit
that’s laced in some English wit
then add a pinch of Ms Tate
and a dose of Cribbins, wait.
Now, whip up a retriever
a pug and a terrier
Spin around in a blue bowl
until he is a know-it-all
sprinkle with some history
and just a little mystery.
Bake until he is wordy
then decorate with quirky.
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#NaPoWriMo Day TwentyEight – “Falling”
Swooping off the cliff like a hungry bird
she follows her path to a places unknown
hunting for actuality – she is falling.
Expressing herself in drawings and words
creating a world inside her mind, her own
rain racing to the ground, she is falling.
Someday soon she will find a little nook
and paint her world in verses and hues;
tales of moments and places she has flown
through her life; a journey is all it took.
Falling.
Prompt: http://www.napowrimo.net/2014/04/day-26-2/
Picture Credits: http://www.falconrygallery.com/displayimage-18.html
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#NaPoWriMo Day TwentySeven – “An Existential Crisis”
Writing from an unmade bed
weary of the same four walls
wrapped in the same old pictures.
Why am I here?
Wandering up life’s mountain
weathered and crackling under
weak social preconceptions
What am I?
Worn out from institutions
wailing and waffling on;
wars on individuality.
Who am I?
Weakened from society’s chains
who would keep me on the beaten path
waiting for the answer
what will I be when I grow up?
We’re all in the same boat, they say.
Wrong, we’re split into factions
west and east; north and south
white and black – someone ask why?
Why are we here? What’s the point?
What is our objective?
We’re born into this giant globe
We should be the one’s to protect it…
Prompt: http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_writing_challenge/poetry/ – Tautogram
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Studying on a Saturday night
calculating tax
drowning in notes and paper
soon it will be over
knowledge is power, they say
deepest breath, it’s just one day.
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#NaPoWriMo Day TwentySix – SummerTime
Although, technically it’s Autumn here Summer did revisit us for ANZAC Day. I wrote this whilst sitting along the banks of the Yarra River. Louis Armstrong & Ella Fitzgerald do a great cover of this song – SummerTime.
“Summer time… and the livin’ is easy… fish are jumpin’… and the cotton is high…”
the saxophonists notes follow her along the river
as she looks down on the black swans floating
from the steps of a faux Parisian cafe
on a beautiful faux summer day.
“… Oh, your daddy’s rich… and your mamma’s good lookin’… so hush, little baby… don’t you cry…”
a little girl reaches and clasps her grandfather’s hand
his medals glistening in the sun; a weary veteran
nods slowly and carefully to the whispers in his ears
comfortably surrounded by his future.
“… One of these mornings… you’re going to rise up singing… then you’ll spread your wings… and take to the sky…”
the banks of the river burst with soul
a young student girl charms us with an upturned wok
a young veteran strums his aged guitar
while a young flautist hums her way into the urban orchestra.
“… But until that morning… there’s nothing can harm you… with your daddy and mummy standing by…”
on the grass a group of primary children
create chalk drawings of sunshine
and city views – they love their country
sparkling pride in their young little eyes.
“… Summertime… and the livin’ is easy…”
Charlie Ann Alford 
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