Cranberry Ichor – sonnet – September 28, 2015

From where does this infection come
To which we all seem to succumb?
Our atavistic fears become
A bony heartbeat – inhuman drum.

Inhale exhale then goose-step walk …
As nebulous hate mongers talk,
Of a dark menacing migrant flock
[Vague figures lined-up on a dock].

Cranberry ichor floods the streets
Under pink jackboot’s metal cleats!
[Save the money of the elite!]
As history’s lessons we repeat.

From the banks of our prosperity
What lessons leave we to posterity?

© G.s.k. ‘15

MLMM Monday Wordle – September 28, 2015

1. Infection 2. Pastel 3. Cranberry 4. Bony 5. Atavistic (of, relating to, or characterized by atavism; reverting to or suggesting the characteristics of a remote ancestor or primitive type.) 6. Figure 7. Exhale 8. Copse (a thicket of small trees or bushes; a small wood.) 9. Nebulous (hazy, vague, indistinct) 10. Menace 11. Door 12. Ichor (the fluid which flows like blood in the veins of the gods)


Paper Tigers – Wordle/Free Verse – February 24, 2015


Chimera Picture  (2d, fantasy, creature, chimera)

Concept for Wrath of the Titans – by Daren Horley


The Paper Tiger we thought defunct
stood in his partition of the world
dead drunk by all his power, now sour and curdled –
but he still twinges besotted in his bowl of dark draught …
only anabiosis had set in creating death’s illusion.

His Altruistic enemy – faced by the empty visage of inertia
for the good of us all – resuscitated vestiges of the old cold war
now twinging we look on
wondering if it might not have been better
just to be crushed by a wayward meteor.

To think we once augured an end to the conflict
only to find – once it was over –
that the strength we thought we saw was only a chimera –
just Paper Tigers: no winners – just losers …
who pompously filled the old news reels gloating
in the gloaming of our failing worm wooded civilization.

© G.s.k. 15

The wordle contains 12 words those words are:

Broken, Visage (the face), Paper Tiger (a person, group, nation, thing that has the appearance of strength but is ineffectual), Defunct (no longer in use),  Partition (a division, separation), Anabiosis (bringing back to conscious, reanimation after apparent death), Curdle, Meteor, Altruism (the principle or practice of unselfish concern for or devotion to the welfare of others), Twinge, Bowl, Draught

Yves has prepared us an exceptionally difficult wordle!  Of course Paper Tiger was the word that set the tone for the whole poem … anyone born before 1980 will have recognized the appellation immediately … and from whence it came 😉

Anabiosis also means: A temporary state of suspended animation or greatly reduced metabolism. I used it like this … draught is that lovely beer that you get at the pub … also known as draft beer or just draft when you’re in said pub.  Chimera comes from Greek mythology and was sort of a fire-breathing dragon and was a said to be a terrifying beast … but now days in English it’s used when we want to talk about a dream that is unlikely to come true.


Written for Monday Wordle Prompt at Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie

Sunday Whirl – January 26, 2015


It might be trite to say
That my aim is miles away
From scorching other bloggers
For the way they spell their words.
I don’t have a Nazi spirit,
Not even for spelling mistakes
Maybe I just have a mind
That likes a harmonious chime.
I won’t sign my life away
If you spell daye for day ..
For I consider the land where you live,
Besides once, that spelling was right.

© G.s.k. ‘15

trite, aim, miles, scorch, spell, spirit, words, maybe, chime, mind, sign, land

Sunday Whirl – Worlde Prompt.

Wordle – The Goofy Photograph – January 20, 2015

As I sit … polishing my dark bark bowl,
Dyed in deep magenta saturated
In sweet mellow honey-dew …
I reflect thinking of that photograph.

My sensibility is offended, but
My stance should be based on wisdom, since,
The penalty for blinking at the wrong time is
The camera caught my face in goofy mode.

Although once laundered and processed,
Adding texture, shadows and maybe frills,
My friend might win a prize one day ….
A valuable addition to his work.

The wordle contains 12 words those words are:

Polish, Bark, Laundry,  Magenta, Saturate, Camera, Blink, Valuable, Stance,
Penalty, Sensibility, Texture

Mindlovesmisery’s Menagerie

A Wordle for WordPress – Wordleing – January 12, 2015

A Scarecrow on your house
And a Glitch in your collective works!
Mighty nerds with the brains of currants
Living in some obscure parallel universe,
With what perversity do you play
With the lives of those who blog …
Without affinity for those who write
Using mere words instead of code,
You’ve now padlocked script images
Making them to fade away …
(And what say you of “Quote”
that leaves bracketed empty space?)
The glamour of your pages
Are without a doubt a plus
But your jagged hungry need
To not leave well enough alone,
Sends up a coral destication
With each change that comes to the fore.
Ah to ditch the perverse codes
That you daily send upon us …
Methinks we might go Blogger
And leave this mess behind.

© G.s.k. ‘15


1. Padlock 2. Glamour 3. Ditch 4. Perversity 5. Fade 6. Affinity 7. Parallel 8. Desticate (to squeak like a rat) 9. Jagged 10. Scarecrow 11. Hungry
12. Currant (a small seedless raisin, a small edible berry found on shrubs of the genus Ribes)

Post inspired by WordPress and Mindlovesmisery’s Menagerie – Wordle #43

MM’s Wordle – October 1, 2014 (OctPoWriMo)

girl in fountain

The Visit

In a kitchen bright with chromium shelves,
A plethora of pans and a conveyor belt,
The blast of the oven freed a vortex of smells –
Of apples, onions and cinnamon too.

The receptionist stood at the kitchen door
Tapping his foot in disgust and dismay
He sought out someone to clean up the hall
(A mad tourist had smeared vaseline everywhere).

In the bedlam of the kitchen he went ignored,
Everyone was busy doing this or that …
He let out such a wail of ire and bile
He surprised a young mermaid, swimming nearby.

The chef in his cap glowered balefully
At the man who’d made his orange souffle fall
Pivotal for the evening meal it’d been …
Now he’d have to start over again.

The vaseline gone, the souffle risen high,
The hotel was ready for their special guest …
Everyone wore their uniforms with pride …
As the Michelin gourmet sat awarding his stars.

Yes, the Michelin map now has a new five-star hotel
Near a hillside that overlooks the Zuiderzee,
The gourmet raves at the wonders of their orange souffle
And the bright clean sheen of the reception hall.



OctPoWriMo 2014

Mindlovesmisery’s Menagerie wordle contains 12 words those words are: 1. Pivotal 2. Mermaid 3. Bedlam 4. Blast 5. Conveyor 6. Chromium 7. Plethora 8. Cinnamon 9. Vortex 10. Kitchen 11. Reception 12. Vaseline





Sunday Whirl on Monday – Kyrielle Sonnet – September 22, 2014


by brenda warren

The Old Miner

The crossed old grumpy miner
Sailed the wide ocean blue,
To keep his lady-love happy,
For she had a heart of gold …

She’d looked at him with an expression,
That would give you or I a chill,
One could see she’d give him hell,
Rather than live in the desert still …

Mind you now, she was quite docile ..
As far as gentle hell-cats go.
But she wanted to see merry England
And so a sailing they did go.

The crossed old grumpy miner
Sailed the wide ocean blue.

*this is a very loose kyrielle sonnet written for Sunday Whirl!   😉

Wordle Monday – June 23, 2014

wordle-14Unhappily James Phantom walked through the cemetery past tombstones decorated with flowers, from tea roses for a lovely lady near the chapel, to a bunch of puffy yellow chrysanthemums for old Mr. Jeffreys.

In life he’d been inured to the unpleasantness of being an outsider, but felt it was unjust  to have to be the brunt of illegitimate xenophobic insults even in death.

There was not a scintilla of truth in the string of slanderous conjectures that Mistress Mercy had spread around stating that he was “different”, that he was in fact, a zombie.  What was at first a brontide coming from two old gossips had now become a palavar of virtuous outcry by the older generations.

In life, he’d been hounded, arrested and accused of practicing witchcraft.  The accusations, based on the simple fact that his father being a voodoo man,could talk to the dead.

The exorcists insisted that DNA had determined that he must have the power not only to speak to the dead but, ironically, to turn people into zombies as well. He suspected that he’d just been a pawn. What they’d really wanted to do was embarrass the upper crust of the Jamaican community branding him a lowly warlock

He’d denied the accusations vigorously, reminding them that he was a man of culture, a professor of philosophy, but to no avail. They imprisoned him and in prison one night he’d met his fate.  A huge bat had  flown into his cell, attached itself to his jugular vein and grazed upon his blood until he’d died.

When they’d found him they quietly placed his poor body in, what they thought was, an abandoned crypt and said he’d escaped from his cell and had probably gone back to Jamaica.

He’d awakened in that tomb three days later but realized he wasn’t a ghost.  He wasn’t alone either … Mistress Mercy stood there glowering at him because he’d invaded her home. That was when the old hag had started her hate campaign. She reasoned just like the exorcists too.  She said that he had to be a zombie because his father was a voodoo man!

It was bad enough raising hungry from the tomb every night … but hey, he was under nobodies spell and he certainly didn’t drool walking around like an empty eyed, inelegant goon.  He was completely articulate too.

“Anyone with any sense should realize that I’m a vampire!” he shouted to no one.

The exorcists had been right about one thing though. Unfortunately, he could talk to the dead like his father had, it was in his DNA.

Written for Mindlovesmisery Menagerie Wordle 14