Mindy

[Michael Stuart Kelly]

Mindy

Before we have Mindy's poems and snippets all over the forum, I thought it would be a good idea to set this thread up for her. I find her stuff to be absolutely charming. The full posts can be read by clicking on the little read arrows. I have kept the poems and pertinent comments and pruned out what I thought was a distraction from appreciating them.

To Mindy: If you want me to put anything back or make any changes, please send me a line.

Michael

I offer a bit of word-play that has taken--or has it given--me quite a few hours of frustration and fun. I call it "The Fuzzy-Wuzzy Chronicles" because...well, you'll see why.

The Bear:

Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear,

Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair,

Fuzzy Wuzzy wasn't fuzzy, was he!

The Buzzard:

Buzzy Wuzzy was a bird,

But his buzz was seldom heard,

Buzzy Wuzzy wasn't buzzy, was he!

The Cousin:

Cozzy Wuzzy was a coz,

But no relationship he was,

Cozzy Wuzzy wasn't cozzy, was he!

The Cop:

'Cause he was, he wasn't stopped,

Fuzz he was, he was a cop,

'Cause he was, he wasn't, fuzz he was, see?

Mike Renzulli

Is quite newly

Forty years of age.

Objectively,

He has, you see,

Set out to be a sage.

Here's the beginning of a poem I wrote:

Buggy little lanterns,

Wafting through the air,

Sometimes you're not,

And sometimes you're there.

It's about lightning bugs, in case that isn't clear. What I like about it is the third and fourth lines mimic the on-off of the bugs' light. I don't know what that property would be called (rhythmic onomatopoeia?) but it is the sort of thing that poetry must have, I think.

At my childhood home, on a lake outside Atlanta, the window in the door that leads to the patio is almost three stories above the ground. Looking out towards the lake, you would be looking across a long stretch of lawn dotted with several large trees. In late June and July the fireflies on that stretch of lawn are so numerous that, as twilight deepens, you see a cloud of bllinking lights. Because of the distance, I suppose, you don't see the individual blinks, rather the cloud sparkles softly. Also, the cloud sort of "breathes" upward. The inevitable downward movement of individual fireflies isn't apparant, only a pulsing expansion of the cloud of lights. It's very special.

Lightening Bugs

Buggy little lanterns,

Wafting through the air,

Sometimes you're not,

And sometimes you're there.

Summer-nighttime miracles,

Oblivious to me,

Making light of making light,

For anyone to see.

Optimistic opticals'

Spectacular surprise,

Your glowing, gliding guideposts,

Shine only when you rise!

Mindy Newton

[Michael Stuart Kelly]

I should mention that I don't mind Mindy's poems and snippets all over the forum. I hope there will be more. I merely made this thread so they could be found more easily. I hope she adds to it either with more new stuff, or by copying a post whenever the muse knocks on her door in another discussion.

Michael

[Mindy Newton]

I should mention that I don't mind Mindy's poems and snippets all over the forum. I hope there will be more. I merely made this thread so they could be found more easily. I hope she adds to it either with more new stuff, or by copying a post whenever the muse knocks on her door in another discussion.

Michael

I'm going to pretend it's not weird to write something here, since no one will know it's been written...

I love tongue-twisters, and have always enjoyed Dr. Seuss's tongue-twisting stories. I noticed there is a book advertised here on Seuss, so I thought I'd "expose" my poem about Seuss sounds.

Seuss Sounds

Seuss sounds, Seuss sounds,

A "Cat in the Hat" a day,

Children's eyes and ears get round,

When Dr. Seuss has his say.

Juice sounds when Seuss sounds,

Saliva and tongue hunt their way,

You'll stutter and mutter, and blush to re-utter,

The synched sounds that Seuss sends your way.

Soon sound soothed sounds,

As sleep steals her slumbering slaves,

So, softly! alliterate, litter your litter's late sleep,

With sweet Seuss sounds, sooth-say'd.

Mindy Newton

[Paul Mawdsley]

Objectivist Living has style and class and fun. Mindy fits right in and makes it even better. Nice move Michael.

Paul

[Michael Stuart Kelly]

Paul,

This promises to be a very good thread indeed. Here is a more traditional Seuss tongue twister (it actually belongs in humor, not Mindy's thread):

The Lost Dr. Seuss Tongue Twister

Michael

[Paul Mawdsley]

Paul,

This promises to be a very good thread indeed. Here is a more traditional Seuss tongue twister (it actually belongs in humor, not Mindy's thread):

The Lost Dr. Seuss Tongue Twister

Michael

I fell like such a dumbass!

[Mindy Newton]

Paul,

This promises to be a very good thread indeed. Here is a more traditional Seuss tongue twister (it actually belongs in humor, not Mindy's thread):

The Lost Dr. Seuss Tongue Twister

Michael

I fell like such a dumbass!

That goes double for me!

[Chris Grieb]

Mindy; It's great to have you on OL. Thanks!

[Mindy Newton]

Mindy; It's great to have you on OL. Thanks!

Well, here I am playing in my own play-pen again.

For parents: Bedtime goes more smoothly if it is routinized. No-one in their right mind would have their child say the classic Christian bed-time prayer, not only for its superstitious associations, but because it mentions death. What a way to settle down and get ready to have the light turned off... "If I should die before I wake..." Even as a child, kneeling with my sisters and repeating this prayer, I thought to myself that it was the wrong thing to be thinking about!

So, when my daughter came to be of an age to be able to understand such things, I worked on a poem for her to say before sleep. There are, I believe, both philosophical and psychological factors to letting go of the day and letting oneself go to sleep. I tried to address those in my piece. Since there is a parenting contingent here, it might be of interest to those who have young children.

"Lay me down to sleep"

Now I lay me down to sleep,

This day is done, and mine to keep.

Tomorrow is another day,

For adventure, work, and play,

But now I'll rest, so I may be,

The best, tomorrow, I can be.

Turn out the lights, prepare my bed,

For I've become a sleepy-head.

Soft's my pillow, snug my nest,

Dreamland is my only quest,

There to wander, peacefully,

Until tomorrow comes for me.

= Mindy

[Nicholas Dykes]

Mindy; It's great to have you on OL. Thanks!

Well, here I am playing in my own play-pen again.

For parents: Bedtime goes more smoothly if it is routinized. No-one in their right mind would have their child say the classic Christian bed-time prayer, not only for its superstitious associations, but because it mentions death. What a way to settle down and get ready to have the light turned off... "If I should die before I wake..." Even as a child, kneeling with my sisters and repeating this prayer, I thought to myself that it was the wrong thing to be thinking about!

So, when my daughter came to be of an age to be able to understand such things, I worked on a poem for her to say before sleep. There are, I believe, both philosophical and psychological factors to letting go of the day and letting oneself go to sleep. I tried to address those in my piece. Since there is a parenting contingent here, it might be of interest to those who have young children.

"Lay me down to sleep"

Now I lay me down to sleep,

This day is done, and mine to keep.

Tomorrow is another day,

For adventure, work, and play,

But now I'll rest, so I may be,

The best, tomorrow, I can be.

Turn out the lights, prepare my bed,

For I've become a sleepy-head.

Soft's my pillow, snug my nest,

Dreamland is my only quest,

There to wander, peacefully,

Until tomorrow comes for me.

= Mindy

'Night Mom. Love you.

[Mindy Newton]

Edited October 7, 2008 by Mindy

[Mindy Newton]

Edited October 7, 2008 by Mindy

[Mindy Newton]

Here are some song lyrics I wrote. I'd put the auditory up if I knew how. It's in a minor key, with rolling, 5-step arpeggios as a bass line. This is a floridly romantic song, and lyrics are different from poetry, so it seems even more melodramatic to read the lyrics alone:

Bonar's Song

My heart belongs to you,

Though other hearts do, too,

To you... ... ...

To you.

My heart still cries your name,

Though nothing else remains,

Your name... ... ...

Your name.

--break--

I dream of bathing you in the tears of my desire,

I think of going boldly to your door,

I wonder if the sight of me inflames the fire,

That must have more, that must have more,

All love is at an end,

Until we love again,

And then... ... ...

Again!