3:20 AM

Shower

The water is wide, the poem goes
except here, obviously.
It starts out cold,
But I am bold,
And soon I am ready for
Soap, soap, soap.
Do you use it?
I hope.
Shampoo, shampoo,
To rub in my hair.
What do you use,
if no hair there?
Shampoo?
Nope.
Soap.


How To Write A Poem

Writing poems is easy, Bob,
Just make everything rhyme, Bob.
Have some kind of meter, Bob,
That way it will sound good and flow like a well written poem is supposed to.
Bob.

That was rough, Bob.

Xeedl??!!

For some time now I have been amusing myself by thinking up definitions to the word verification "words" that I have to type in order to post a comment on the blogs of many of my friends.
Now, some people might say that those "words" are comprised of randomly generated characters and make no sense whatsoever and that since you can't pronounce them anyway your time might be better spent doing homework.
Fie!
Who's to say that many of our words that we use every day didn't start out as random sounds put together, and that just because you don't know how to pronounce them doesn't make them any less real?
With that encouraging thought in mind, I would urge you to do the same; next time you are confronted with that jumbled collection of distorted letters, don't rush on by and forget them, make a story!

The Lay of Xhdha*

Xhdha had fallen.
Although mighty in combat, Xhdha fell while attempting to cross the dunki of Gihob.
He slipped on the piigwo the herd of mkotidx had deposited, and before he could draw his yorut-handled breedle, the iviln-eyed horde of urhwyn were upon him, crying: "Yazknzer! Vjecc kyoke, Hoyrd!"

Ah, Xhdha, Xhdha!
Long will you be remembered.
I raise my duknsq to you, and drink.

All of the unfamiliar words in this example are genuine, that is, taken from an actual word verification request.

Here's the little video Sam and I made for Student Development Day.

Homework

To do, to have done
Would be good, there's no dispute.
But to do, to have did,
One must first begin doing.
I'd better start, he says,
And looks over what he has.

Reflective Ironing

I like ironing.
I realize that as a male that is a dangerous statement to make, but,
I like to iron.
I'm not sure what it is about it, whether it's the taking of something that was disarrayed and straighting it, bringing order and making it aesthetically pleasing, thus in my small way making the world a more orderly place...
Or perhaps it's because as I iron I think and reflect on "many things" in almost a Walrus and the Carpenter sort of way.
I think that as a man ironeth, so he liveth.
Do I really need to iron the back of my shirt? I'm probably going to be wearing a jacket all day. Besides, that part always wrinkles almost immediately after one climbs into the shirt anyway...
After all, it's not like people are going to walk up to you and say, "You ironed the back of your shirt! Let me buy you a steak dinner!"
People usually don't give you a gold star because you spent the extra time and ironed the back of your shirt, and they are usually quite offended when you ask.


Incidentally, I ironed the back of my shirt.

Words- random thoughts recorded...

Even in this age of bellowing entertainment all clamoring for our attention,
there is still in children and schoolteachers alike the same joy at the
faint pianissimo sound of a snowflake settling.
-

- Ode to a Finished Meal -

A corps of corpse-like cobs of corn
But a pale shadow of what they used to be
Lies lightly on my plate forlorn.
-

- Something so Deep That You'll Fall Asleep -
Dreams that are so real
you don't know you are asleep,
or
Reality that is so dream-like
you don't remember waking up...
-

- Hope -
Hope springs infernally,
and often bounces right out of control.

The Tale of Yei

The Tale of Yie

Long ago, in the far off forgotten times of the distant past, lived a fairy named Yie.
(pronounced "Eee")
She wasn't a very great fairy, to be sure, and she wasn't the most beautiful, or the most powerful, but she was a fairy, and that meant something, even in those days.

In that time, if Mr. Brown wanted to send his humble holiday felicitations (such were the words of Mr. Brown!) to Miss Blakely, it was required of him to go to the General Coop Office and procure the use of a carrier pigeon.
For the small sum of forty-one cents, he could attach his greeting to a little ring secured to the bird's left leg (it needed its right leg to signal), throw the bird out of the window, and hope for the best.

Well, everything was going along just swimmingly (or should I say "flappingly"?),
when all of a sudden disaster struck.

"The pigeons, the pigeons!"

"They are all dying!"

"It's a regular Epidemic!" was the cry.

A great plague swept the land. The birds were falling by the millions. There was nothing anyone could do.

"What will we do? How can we wish each other a Merry Christmas if there's no bird to bring the wish?"

"Help, Oh, help us!" they beseeched the fairies, "Do something, Please!"

The fairy leaders sat down together in thought, to figure out some solution to the problem.
"Aha!" they said, and set about to work.
First, they tried to revive all the dead birds.

Nothing.

Next, the fairies tried to create new carrier pigeons.

No success.

Now, you might have thought that I had forgotten all about our fairy, Yie.
To tell the truth, everybody had. She had been sitting quietly off by herself all this time, watching, and thinking.

Finally, just when everyone was at his lowest, she stepped forward.

"Hmm..." she said.

"Hmmmmm... I wonder... yes..." she muttered, and began to tell her Plan.

"I say!" said the fairy leaders, and began to draw large, complicated diagrams.

"I say!" said the people, and began to talk excitedly amongst themselves.

Yie smiled. She didn't need to say anything anymore. The smartest fairies in the land were working around the clock to finish her Plan.

"Just think," the people said " A Grand Network!" "Unlimited Service!" "Reasonable Rates!" "Plus, absolutely no after delivery clean-up required!"

Finally, on the day before Christmas, it was finished.
"What shall we call it?" the leaders asked.

"Call it Yie-mail, after our dearest fairy, Yie." someone shouted.
"Yes! Yes!" the people responded. "Yie!" "Yie Forever!" "Speech!" "Speech!"

But all Yei did was smile, in her own way, a very little smile.
And boys and girls, after all these years, in your own Yei-mail, you can sometimes see her, still smiling.

=)