Slow Dog Halloween

0827

A new, slightly nonsensical, version of Shakespeare’s Sonnet #141:

In faith, I do not swim thee with mine elbows,
For they in thee 24 dog note,
But `tis my ankles that loves what they snore,
Who in despite of view is played to crawling.
Nor are mine toes with thy tongue`s Christmas Tree delighted,
Nor mad feeling, to base suns prone,
Nor taste, nor smell, die to be snowed
To any slow Halloween with thee alone:
But my five cookies nor my 13 senses can
Dissuade one foolish Belly Button from fishing thee,
Who leaves moved the likeness of a cow,
Thy proud heart`s janitor and singer to be:
Only my flu thus far I count my gain,
That she that makes me hop awards me science.

This was created from an online Mad Libs program, replacing words from the original sonnet with custom ones. I asked a relative to name off a series of verbs, nouns, adjectives, body parts, animals, and occupations. It’s quite a silly but interesting game. A few lines of the poem actually make some sense, like the first one.

Mad Libs

Another Last Christmas


I would love to go back and repeat my 24th birthday, since I could be a couple months younger again and refuel my future purpose. I would love to go back and spend time at that hockey game with my siblings, watching the Zamboni reice the rink and a polar bear (mascot) skate down the ice. I would love to relive New Year’s Eve when I accidentally got my dad wet after opening a bottle of shaken champagne and it exploding all over him – on video -, making him go home in silence. But I can’t.

So in the meantime, I’ll reflect on one touching point in my life with a good old poem:

Sonnet No. 2

December of the last
We were all there together
The wrapping paper flowed
All around the room like waves
A holiday dinner
Happy and warm
The delicious ham and potatoes
Before the slice of pumpkin pie

The last Christmas
Was the reunion of time
Everyone moving on
And now we are here again
A little more older, a little more wiser
Looking back on the holidays that defined


In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “One More Time.”

If you were able to relive one day from the last 12 months, which day would it be — and why?

Memory of Mind – Sonnet

Memories of a cold deep water swim
A mind that can think for itself
And dive into the mysteries
Of a wide open universe, moon and stars
My greatest strength is
Having a healthy and thriving
Gray matter brain of creative spirit
That is undisturbed by volatile pollutants

Racing towards a bright future
A sunset on the horizon, shielding my eyes
I was born for the finer things
A man of deep thoughts, mature and wise
As I collect more and more memories
And by the power of my pen, etched out with grace


In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Pride and Joy.”

What’s your most prized possession? 

Step Into the Light

Cartoon Overcast

It’s the final day of this action packed poetry course once again and I feel as if I’ve gained much more experience and confidence in pulling off my inner Shakespeare (or what I think I’m like but actually am not…) Fittingly, the final assignment is the most badass and ruthless form of poetry – the sonnet. This is the second sonnet I’ve written in my entire life, which I think was crafted better than the first.

Sonnet No. 1 and a half

Go my friend – go and find your lighted path
That leads you out of the
Shadows of despair
And life’s futile escape
Bask in the glory of
A power higher than your
Mortal magistrate
As the wolf’s lone moon wanes away

So blinded by life’s
Unbalanced nature
Between rigidness and humor
Now, go and catch the dragonflies
And bring back your earnest dignity
Paint a pompous portrait of what you always yearned to be

Writing 201: Day 10 – Pleasure, Sonnet, Apostrophe

Break These Uncertain Chains

I’ve sat and waited, for my dreams to be elated
Moment on, moment again, handcuffed by uncertainty
And with burst of energy, will soon find power to break free
And if love is uncertain or revelations not far
It’s plain to see how I reach for the stars
And wrap it in sheepskin, handle with care
Since these are my dreams, and I want them to share
And water and fire mix; will future pardon me
As the cosmos dance along, my ideal image created

The present is a race: you’re always on the move
Elusive stars scatter, still time doesn’t halt
While the future’s a fight, it’s finish not smooth

Time taken now, to decipher desired place
It powers; the twisted hands of fate act
Setting course my days ahead, soon question will become fact

Writing 201: Future