high fibre snacks

I don’t understand why the humans persist
in constantly putting out more of this –
it’s chewy and dry and awful gritty,
at least add some butter, show some pity.
I’ve now eaten six of the horrible things,
but when I turn my back, one of them brings
another one out and puts it in place.
Honestly, it’s a shocking disgrace,
the things they expect a poor pig to eat.
But I will never admit defeat!
I’ll eat another six and then six more
of these hairy things they put at the door.
I’ve heard that fibre is good for one’s tum,
but I wish they’d consider what it’s like on my bum.

 

I really need to start buying doormats in bulk.   

 

 

 

oinklet (an oinky sparrowlet)

It’s been a while since I’ve written a poem about my pig, so here in oinky sparrowlet for the Thursday dVerse prompt “Poetry form: Sparrowlet“:

 

My piggy-wig, my darling girl,
your tail with such a sweetling curl,
in the garden you snoutly dig,
and roughly little plants you hurl,
then break the birdbath as you swig,
my darling girl, my piggy wig.

He saw the mess, the angry man,
he wonders what on earth we can
do with such an awful pig-pest –
he’s thinking of the frying pan
and how to send you to your rest!
The angry man, he saw the mess!

Oh, run and hide, or bacon be,
He knows the truth, so while you’re free,
gallop, gallop before you’re fried,
and served with toast and egg, crisply
browned, with brown sauce. My piggy, flee,
or bacon be! Oh run and hide!

 

A sparrrowlet has 6-line stanzas, 8 syllables per line, rhyme scheme (as explained by Grace):

RRRA, RRRB
xxxxxxxb
xxxxxxxa
xxxxxxxb
xxxxxxxa
RRRB, RRRA 

with the two halves of the first line repeated but swapped in the last line. 

Thanks Grace! This was a fun form to play with. 

 

 

ko: blackberries and biting flies

Lisa at dVerse challenges us to write about or create a ko (micro-season). Full specifications (which I have not met) are listed below:

 

Major season (sekki, of which there are 24): late summer dog-days

Micro-season (ko, of which there are 72): Blackberries and biting flies

This is the season of hot days when we are ready for coolness, but are unwilling to accept that summer is almost gone. Holidays are over and school begins just as blackberries are ripening and shining invitingly on roadsides.

 

Seasonal vegetables:

Tomatoes are ripe in the garden, squash as swelling into scalloped-edged flying saucers. But these are incidental now – because this is the season when the blackberries ripen. The hard green clusters, eyed in passing for months, are swelling and darkening, and our impatience for them is at last washed away by inky-sweet juices. We gorge ourselves, fingers stained purple and buckets overflowing onto the kitchen table. Tarts and crumbles bake, despite the heat, jams bubble on the stove, filling the house with the musky, dusky scent of these summer-end days.

 

Seasonal activities:

Work and school are resumed, there is no denying that the year has started now as we pack lunches, pat pockets for keys, phone, wallet, ID, before the now-unaccustomed and resented commute. We envy the pig, as she wallows in the dam, mud drying like cement on her sides as she grumbles at the heat and flies. A hundred of these fat black biting flies perch on her, a flock of feeding vampires. When I shoo them away they rise in a buzzing black cloud, only to resettle on her, and on my own bare legs.

 

Haiku:

 

A stinging slap,

a flat black fly falls, leaving

a smear of blood.

The specifications (more information can be found at dVerse):

“The format for each kō is as follows:
•the title of the Major Season or Sekki
•outline why it is called that
•the title of the micro-season or kō
•outline why it is called that
•write a haiku that speaks to the kō
•include insider information on the haiku and include information about the poet (you)
•seasonal fish, information about it, and including ways to prepare it
•seasonal vegetable, information about it, and ways to prepare it
•seasonal activity, often including the holiday or tradition involved, etc.
•a preview of coming attractions for the next kō

In addition, there are images of artwork, drawings, photographs, etc. of the highlighted”

pork scratchings

It’s wonderful to be a pig,
with snout to dig,
and tail to twitch
at flies that itch

Sun-snoozing here, a human comes
to rub my tum.
My attitude
shows gratitude –

I lift a leg and roll a bit,
Ah, there, that’s it!
Nothing can match
a belly scratch.

Written for the dVerse “minute poem” prompt.

Grace describes a minute poem:
“The Minute Poem is a 60 syllable verse form, one syllable for each second in a minute. The theme should be an event that is over and done completely, as in a minute. Since the dominant line is short the effect is likely humorous, whimsical or semi-serious. It was created by Verna Lee Hinegardner, once poet laureate of Arkansas.

The elements of the Minute Poem are:

1. narrative poetry.
2. a 12 line poem made up of 3 quatrains. (3 of 4-line stanzas)
3. syllabic, 8-4-4-4 8-4-4-4 8-4-4-4 (First line has 8 syllables of each stanza. Remaining lines has 4 syllables in each stanza)
4. rhymed, rhyme scheme of aabb ccdd eeff.
5. description of a finished event (preferably something done is 60 seconds).
6. is best suited to light verse, likely humorous, whimsical or semi-serious.”

Great prompt Grace – what a fun form!

Good things only #1.

Taking a leaf out of Sean’s book, I’m going to try some (non-toxic) positivity posts to try to boost my mood (struggling a bit lately). So here are some good things from my day, to remind me:

1. Coffee with a friend for the first time in months.  So nice to talk to a person who I don’t live with and who doesn’t want something/need me to solve a problem for them!
2. A senior colleague I respect saying he learnt a lot from teaching with me, in front of the whole school.
3. Relaxing in the sun with my darling oinky girl, even though she wouldn’t share the seat with me. She did bite me on the bum, but not hard, so I’m interpreting as affection.

a grunt in the night

What monster is this
that lurks in the night?
It thumps at the door,
and peers in at the light.
With great radar ears
and wet snuffly snout

off to the ag store

For the dVerse prompt “Oral Poetry“, I went for a nursery rhyme (sort of) theme…

Off to the ag store, jiggety-jig,
Off to the ag store for food for the pig,
She started off small, but got very big,
Now I’m off to the ag store for food for the pig!

gardener’s despair

This morning’s dVerse prompt from Claudia is garden(ing)!

I love gardening, but it’s a constant struggle here with the hungry wildlife and my own insatiable pig. Most recently the edge of the mouse plague has been the problem. 

Fucking kangaroos
and bastard possums!
They’ve bent my trees and
eaten the blossoms!

And the cockatoos!
That hooligan mob,
chew off the branches
to finish the job.

Sonnet agin my pig

For the dVerse prompt MTB: Palinode this is a retraction of my earlier Sonnet for my pig, which was one of my first blog posts. Since I wrote that she has eaten hundreds of dollars of bulbs, two chickens, three doormats…. She has also stolen clothes and sheets from the line to build a nest, and bitten me unexpectedly.

 

My piggy’s eyes are little and evil,
But it’s the use of her snout that does tell,
That she’s the most wickedest of devils,
That has ever risen to Earth from Hell.
She snuffles and wuffles through the garden,
Leaving holes where once were lovely flowers.
I see the mess and feel my heart harden,
But the foolish pig ignores my glowers.
And standing now below the washing line,
As I hang the clothes, my piggy has come,
All quietly sneaking up from behind
and that monster pig has bitten my bum!
Oh piggy, to love you, I really tried,
But you’ll be your best as bacon crisp-fried.

Pigs can be taught to sit. But not to refrain from eating anything left outside, including doormats, tins of paint and garden beds.   

calling the sun to the sky (pantoum)

I wanted to write a pantoum yesterday for the dVerse prompt “coming full circle“, but between work and kids I just didn’t have the head space for something that long or structured. But with a whole have-to-free day I’ve indulged myself this morning with a second coffee and some writing time. Here is this morning’s attempt, inspired by Laverton’s 0600 reveille: 

The old cock crows.
Stretching his neck up
to start the new day,
he calls the sun to the sky.