I was given the *delightful* word, "pseudonymous" in the 3rd Round of the March Madness poetry contest currently underway on Ed DeCaria's website, Think Kid Think. I almost cried. Then I got down to business. I stayed up till 6 a.m. and wrote several poems, one of which I thought was quite good about Lemony Snicket (a double dactyl). My crit group, The Poet's Garage, pretty much panned it (although I later found out that Buffy liked it.) Back to square one.
On Thursday, I was busy with contractors at the house we are getting ready to put on the market. I was sleep-deprived and impatient because I wanted to get back to my computer. Finally, I got back to the house, after stopping at Starbucks for some caffeine and the library for some Dr. Seuss. I needed to refresh my memory since I was now considering writing a double dactyl about Dr. Seuss (double-dactyls on the brain). But, back at the computer, nothing would come together. I gave up in despair and took the dogs to the dog park. When my husband got home, I told him I didn't think I would have a poem for the third round, or at best, a poem that my crit group did not love. I read the Lemony Snicket to him; he didn't like it either. In fact, he said it was boring! :(
But he also said he would make dinner so I could maybe come up with something else. I forced myself to put put the double-dactyls aside and focus on other ideas. I wrote several other poems, but nothing special, then I had a brainstorm. I quickly roughed it out. My husband thought it was hilarious. I expanded, I tightened, I tweaked for several hours and read it to him again. He laughed! Music to my ears, and it is what I posted for the 3rd round of March Madness:
On Thursday, I was busy with contractors at the house we are getting ready to put on the market. I was sleep-deprived and impatient because I wanted to get back to my computer. Finally, I got back to the house, after stopping at Starbucks for some caffeine and the library for some Dr. Seuss. I needed to refresh my memory since I was now considering writing a double dactyl about Dr. Seuss (double-dactyls on the brain). But, back at the computer, nothing would come together. I gave up in despair and took the dogs to the dog park. When my husband got home, I told him I didn't think I would have a poem for the third round, or at best, a poem that my crit group did not love. I read the Lemony Snicket to him; he didn't like it either. In fact, he said it was boring! :(
But he also said he would make dinner so I could maybe come up with something else. I forced myself to put put the double-dactyls aside and focus on other ideas. I wrote several other poems, but nothing special, then I had a brainstorm. I quickly roughed it out. My husband thought it was hilarious. I expanded, I tightened, I tweaked for several hours and read it to him again. He laughed! Music to my ears, and it is what I posted for the 3rd round of March Madness:
The Amoeba Gang
Albert the amoeba, a microscopic thief
had stolen from the hydra clan and now had come to grief.
The Unicellular Police were hot on Albert’s trail.
His pseudo-feet moved oh-so-slow. Would he be thrown in jail?
He tried to hang with slime molds, but they swam away from him.
The rotifers rejected him; his prospects now looked grim.
But suddenly he had a thought, a bright, pseudonymous plot--
a perfect way to slip and slide from this tight, ominous spot.
He fissioned once. He fissioned twice, and quick as one-two-three,
Al and Hal and Sal and Cal, all said, “It wasn’t me.”
~B.J. Lee All Rights Reserved c March 26,2014
Albert the amoeba, a microscopic thief
had stolen from the hydra clan and now had come to grief.
The Unicellular Police were hot on Albert’s trail.
His pseudo-feet moved oh-so-slow. Would he be thrown in jail?
He tried to hang with slime molds, but they swam away from him.
The rotifers rejected him; his prospects now looked grim.
But suddenly he had a thought, a bright, pseudonymous plot--
a perfect way to slip and slide from this tight, ominous spot.
He fissioned once. He fissioned twice, and quick as one-two-three,
Al and Hal and Sal and Cal, all said, “It wasn’t me.”
~B.J. Lee All Rights Reserved c March 26,2014
I'm glad I persevered because I am truly proud of this poem. My opponent's (Darren Sardelli) poem is also good, though, and at last look, he is beating me in the Public Vote. Voting is open for another 22 hours or so. Please have a look and vote for your favorites. Our own, Buffy Silverman has a poem in Round 3 as well. Here is a direct link to my matchup - March Madness - Pseudonymous vs Insubordinate. Thank you!
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