Every Monday is Poetry Monday. Mimi of Messymimi's Meanderings
and I have taken over the hosting duties, mostly the supplying of the
prompts - only temporarily we hope - while Diane at On the Border is
taking a break for health and relaxation. We hope to hear from Diane soonish.
I
have something to ask of you: If you read this and the poetry of
others via the links, would you please leave a comment.
Half - if not more - the fun
of these challenges is receiving the responses of others.
Today's prompt is Never say never / Christmas/Hanukkah
My really pissed of poem comes after a couple of days where first a teacher ended in a shitstorm for telling her pupils that santa does not exsist, then I went to a second hand place to shop for Christmas ornaments. I found: Santas, elfs, baubles, reindeer ... not ONE SINGLE baby Jesus, no wise men, not even an angel. Next day I found a Holiday tree online! And in this same place earlier, we were treated to Eid mubarak and Happy Hanukkah. Everything seems OK except for the christian version ... that one is out, it seems.
I was as already told, quite pissed after this, so ... if you're not in for a very grumpy verse ... just stop here.
Don't send me Season's Greetings
or Happy Holidays.
The days are running swiftly,
time passes in a haze.
The Season here is winter,
it's cold, it's dark and wet.
The Holiday's upon us,
we cook, we clean and fret.
And are we really merry
with santas, elfs, and fairies?
Can't you say: Merry Christmas,
then better silent be,
for santas, elfs and fairies
is nothing fun for me.
You see, the only reason
that I can stand this season
is Him that is the reason
to celebrate this "season".
- - - - - - -
Up and coming:
December 23: Never Say Never and/or Christmas/Hanukkah (today)
December 30: All Done
January 6: Seed / Epiphany
January 13: Fiction
January 20: Sheep
January 27: Silver
Blogger putter stadig tilfældige kommentarer i spamfængsel. Jeg lover at slippe dem ud hurtigst muligt.
Blogger is still randomly putting comments in spam-jail. I promise to free them as fast as possible.
mandag den 23. december 2024
lørdag den 21. december 2024
Vinter Solstice ~ Vintersolhverv
I dag, helt præcist klokken 10.21 vendte solen. Nu går vi mod længere dage. Det sætter Uglemor stor pris på. for de her grå, korte og regnfyldte dage er ugle-nedslående.
I tirsdags skinnede solen, og Uglemor tog et billede af solen, da den stod højest på himlen.
I tirsdags skinnede solen, og Uglemor tog et billede af solen, da den stod højest på himlen.
-- 🌞 --
Today at 10.21 am the sun reached its turning point. From now on the days will get longer.
This is received with glee by MotherOwl, suffering from the short and murky days.
Some days ago, Tuesday to be exact, we had some sunshine. And MotherOwl snapped this photo as the sun was at its highest.
Tirsdag 17 december. Solopgang 8.41, solnedgang 15.32, dagens længde 6:51, solens maksimale højde: 11 grader.
Og så klokken knap fire, fotograferede Uglemor igen - nu denne herlige solnedgang ... den måtte gerne have ventet et par timer.
-- 🌞 --
And then, a little less than four hours later, MotherOwl snapped this glorious sunset ... it was pretty, but it would have been more welcome a few hours later.
torsdag den 19. december 2024
Words for Wednesday ~ December 18
The Word for Wednesday challenge started a long time ago. Now it has turned into a movable feast with Elephant's Child as our coordinator; and the Words are provided by a number of people.
The prompts for December are provided by Wisewebwoman and can be found @ Elephant's Child.
The general idea of this challenge is to make us write. Poems, stories, subtitles, tales, jokes, haiku, crosswords, puns, ... you're the boss.
Use all Words, some Words, one Word, or even none of them if that makes your creative juices flow. Anything goes, only please nothing rude or vulgar.
It is also a challenge, where the old saying "The more the merrier" holds true.
So Please, remember to follow the links, go back and read other peoples' stories. And please leave a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction, feedback and encouragement. And we ALL need encouragement.
This week's prompts are:
Ravioli
Serenity
Marble
Bridge
Soccer
and/or
Foliage
Nepotism
Lectern
Lantern
Gorgonzola
Yet another story from Susan's everyday life. I did not use all the words. The story is all true, but the parts happened over several visits to this Pizzeria, which was one of the first to open in Denmark in the 70es, and a great place.
After school Susan and her classmates stood outside the gate.
"Have you heard about the new, Italian restaurant that has opened down at the market square?" Petra asked.
Susan was all ears. Ever since she had been to Italy last summer, her taste buds had been longing for Italian food.
Mette, the high blonde all the others looked to for lead was for once at a loss for words. She was normally the first to hear such news.
Luckily their young English teacher choose this very moment to greet them: "Well, hello my favourite pupils," she began. As she greeted all her classes with these words, none felt anything special about it any more. "Tomorrow is the last day before our holidays, I feel rich, and I want to treat you all to a pizza or something at the new place before it gets overrun. What do you say?" Those last words were unnecessary, as the happy noises from the girls could be heard across the street, shattering the serenity of an old man studying the marble obelisk commemorating the reunification of 1920.
The class had never been as well-prepared for their English lessons as they were next day. When the lessons had ended they all walked to the market square.
They sat at a big table, Anne noted what all the girls would like. Two did not like pizza at all, and wanted to try ravioli after finding out that it was something like filled spaghetti. Most wanted Pizza quattro stagioni with ham and mushrooms, and a few adventurous, among them Anne, choose a pizza capricciosa with artichokes and olives.
Susan studied the menu for a while. Then she found it. "How confusing," she said. "In Rome this pizza was called Pizza napoletana, here it's a Pizza romana. But at least that's what I would like."
"It has anchovises on it, eww," Petra said.
"You seem to agree with most other people," Susan said smiling, "I happen to detest olives and love anchovies. When we were in Rome, I asked for this pizza, and the waiter asked me several times if it really was what I meant, and the kitchen staff stood in the back of the restaurant, looking at this young straniera, eating anchovies on her pizza. My dad told me after we left. I'm happy I did not see it myself. I would have died."
Anne went to the counter and ordered, or at least tried to. After talking to the young man behind the counter, writing and discussing for several minutes she returned: "Susan, how much Italian did you learn on that holiday? I can't make him understand that we want 10 pizzas, not 12 and then two portions of ravioli."
"I can try," Susan said, "as you know, I am a language nerd, and we were in Italy for three weeks. At least I know the numbers."
Susan went to the counter, took Anne's notes and slowly asked for "Due ravioli, per favore," The young man smiled encouragingly at her and she continued. "E dieci pizze. Una Romana, tre Capricciose e sei Quattro stagione."
"Brava!" the young man said and smiled broadly. This made him look younger, even more like a boy, and Susan suspected he might be younger than they were. "E per bevere?"
"What would we drink?" Susan translated without thinking. "Did you think of this, Anne, isn't it mighty expensive?"
"You can all have one soft drink," Anne said, loud enough for everybody to hear it, "And then it's water for the rest of the meal."
Susan tried her hand at translating this: "Acqua per tutti e una bottiglia di err ... hmm ... I don't know soft drink in Italian."
But the young man understood: "Acqua, e una bibita per cada una. Sì, ho capito. Sedetevi, ed io vengo con tutto."
"We sit, he brings," Susan half guessed, and he nodded vigorously.
Waiting for the pizzas they talked about the coming exams, parents and holiday plans. Susan stopped listening and her attention drifted to one of the wall paintings. It was an old bridge, almost hidden by foliage, in a sun drenched, Italian landscape. Susan felt that she should know that place, but she was not up to showing more off by asking about it. She decided to save for a return.
The pizzas were fabulous, and surprisingly eaten to the very last bite of the crust.
And here the story ends. I ran out of steam, and only used half of the words. No promises, but maybe more will come off this - there is an Italian connexion in all the sorcery and witchcraft.
The prompts for December are provided by Wisewebwoman and can be found @ Elephant's Child.
The general idea of this challenge is to make us write. Poems, stories, subtitles, tales, jokes, haiku, crosswords, puns, ... you're the boss.
Use all Words, some Words, one Word, or even none of them if that makes your creative juices flow. Anything goes, only please nothing rude or vulgar.
It is also a challenge, where the old saying "The more the merrier" holds true.
So Please, remember to follow the links, go back and read other peoples' stories. And please leave a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction, feedback and encouragement. And we ALL need encouragement.
- - A - - B - - C - -
This week's prompts are:
Soccer
and/or
Nepotism
Lectern
Lantern
Gorgonzola
Yet another story from Susan's everyday life. I did not use all the words. The story is all true, but the parts happened over several visits to this Pizzeria, which was one of the first to open in Denmark in the 70es, and a great place.
After school Susan and her classmates stood outside the gate.
"Have you heard about the new, Italian restaurant that has opened down at the market square?" Petra asked.
Susan was all ears. Ever since she had been to Italy last summer, her taste buds had been longing for Italian food.
Mette, the high blonde all the others looked to for lead was for once at a loss for words. She was normally the first to hear such news.
Luckily their young English teacher choose this very moment to greet them: "Well, hello my favourite pupils," she began. As she greeted all her classes with these words, none felt anything special about it any more. "Tomorrow is the last day before our holidays, I feel rich, and I want to treat you all to a pizza or something at the new place before it gets overrun. What do you say?" Those last words were unnecessary, as the happy noises from the girls could be heard across the street, shattering the serenity of an old man studying the marble obelisk commemorating the reunification of 1920.
The class had never been as well-prepared for their English lessons as they were next day. When the lessons had ended they all walked to the market square.
They sat at a big table, Anne noted what all the girls would like. Two did not like pizza at all, and wanted to try ravioli after finding out that it was something like filled spaghetti. Most wanted Pizza quattro stagioni with ham and mushrooms, and a few adventurous, among them Anne, choose a pizza capricciosa with artichokes and olives.
Susan studied the menu for a while. Then she found it. "How confusing," she said. "In Rome this pizza was called Pizza napoletana, here it's a Pizza romana. But at least that's what I would like."
"It has anchovises on it, eww," Petra said.
"You seem to agree with most other people," Susan said smiling, "I happen to detest olives and love anchovies. When we were in Rome, I asked for this pizza, and the waiter asked me several times if it really was what I meant, and the kitchen staff stood in the back of the restaurant, looking at this young straniera, eating anchovies on her pizza. My dad told me after we left. I'm happy I did not see it myself. I would have died."
Anne went to the counter and ordered, or at least tried to. After talking to the young man behind the counter, writing and discussing for several minutes she returned: "Susan, how much Italian did you learn on that holiday? I can't make him understand that we want 10 pizzas, not 12 and then two portions of ravioli."
"I can try," Susan said, "as you know, I am a language nerd, and we were in Italy for three weeks. At least I know the numbers."
Susan went to the counter, took Anne's notes and slowly asked for "Due ravioli, per favore," The young man smiled encouragingly at her and she continued. "E dieci pizze. Una Romana, tre Capricciose e sei Quattro stagione."
"Brava!" the young man said and smiled broadly. This made him look younger, even more like a boy, and Susan suspected he might be younger than they were. "E per bevere?"
"What would we drink?" Susan translated without thinking. "Did you think of this, Anne, isn't it mighty expensive?"
"You can all have one soft drink," Anne said, loud enough for everybody to hear it, "And then it's water for the rest of the meal."
Susan tried her hand at translating this: "Acqua per tutti e una bottiglia di err ... hmm ... I don't know soft drink in Italian."
But the young man understood: "Acqua, e una bibita per cada una. Sì, ho capito. Sedetevi, ed io vengo con tutto."
"We sit, he brings," Susan half guessed, and he nodded vigorously.
Waiting for the pizzas they talked about the coming exams, parents and holiday plans. Susan stopped listening and her attention drifted to one of the wall paintings. It was an old bridge, almost hidden by foliage, in a sun drenched, Italian landscape. Susan felt that she should know that place, but she was not up to showing more off by asking about it. She decided to save for a return.
The pizzas were fabulous, and surprisingly eaten to the very last bite of the crust.
And here the story ends. I ran out of steam, and only used half of the words. No promises, but maybe more will come off this - there is an Italian connexion in all the sorcery and witchcraft.
mandag den 16. december 2024
004
Nej, jeg har ikke glemt nummerpladeudfordringen. Det tager bare virkelig lang tid for mig at finde det næste nummer ... med denne fart vil jeg nå til 999 om 1.248 måneder - det er 104 år.
I dag stod jeg og ventede på at komme over vejen, da en 000 kørte forbi, jeg kiggede en ekstra gang, så havde jeg jo set både 001, 005 (naturligvis) 003 og hele 2 af 002 i dag. Så kørte en rød bil ret hurtigt forbi, var det mon ... de to sidste tal var 04, men var det første nu 0, 9 eller måske 6? Suk, jeg skældte mig selv ud for at have haft for travlt med at kigge efter 000. Men så drejede den røde bil ind på parkeringspladsen til det supermarked, jeg var på vej over til. Jeg skyndte mig som planlagt at aflevere de tomme flasker og så hen til postbutikken i møntvaskeriet. Og der holdt den så:
No, I have not forgeotten my number plate challenge. I'm just woefully slow. Only today I finally met a 004. Keeping up this speed, it'll take me 1248 months to reach 999 - or around 104 years.
Today I stood waiting to cross the street, looking at the passing cars. A 000 passed me - I had seen a 003, a 005 (sigh), a 001, and 2 002's earlier.
A red car sped past in the other direction, I looked, the last two were 04 - but was the first one a 9 or a 0 or maybe a 6 - I could not see. I told myself off for looking at the 000 too closely. Then I saw the red car turn into the parking lot at the supermarket, I was heading for. I went there, handed in the empty bottles and then I walked along the parking lot to get to the "post office" (It's in a laundromat, not a post office at all).
And there, in the parking lot, was the red car:
I dag stod jeg og ventede på at komme over vejen, da en 000 kørte forbi, jeg kiggede en ekstra gang, så havde jeg jo set både 001, 005 (naturligvis) 003 og hele 2 af 002 i dag. Så kørte en rød bil ret hurtigt forbi, var det mon ... de to sidste tal var 04, men var det første nu 0, 9 eller måske 6? Suk, jeg skældte mig selv ud for at have haft for travlt med at kigge efter 000. Men så drejede den røde bil ind på parkeringspladsen til det supermarked, jeg var på vej over til. Jeg skyndte mig som planlagt at aflevere de tomme flasker og så hen til postbutikken i møntvaskeriet. Og der holdt den så:
004
No, I have not forgeotten my number plate challenge. I'm just woefully slow. Only today I finally met a 004. Keeping up this speed, it'll take me 1248 months to reach 999 - or around 104 years.
Today I stood waiting to cross the street, looking at the passing cars. A 000 passed me - I had seen a 003, a 005 (sigh), a 001, and 2 002's earlier.
A red car sped past in the other direction, I looked, the last two were 04 - but was the first one a 9 or a 0 or maybe a 6 - I could not see. I told myself off for looking at the 000 too closely. Then I saw the red car turn into the parking lot at the supermarket, I was heading for. I went there, handed in the empty bottles and then I walked along the parking lot to get to the "post office" (It's in a laundromat, not a post office at all).
And there, in the parking lot, was the red car:
Poetry Monday :: A Recipe for Disaster
Every Monday is Poetry Monday. Mimi of Messymimi's Meanderings
and I have taken over the hosting duties, mostly the supplying of the
prompts - only temporarily we hope - while Diane at On the Border is
taking a break for health and relaxation. We hope to hear from Diane soonish.
I have something to ask of you: If you read this and the poetry of others via the links, would you please leave a comment.
Half - if not more - the fun of these challenges is receiving the responses of others.
Today's prompt is A Recipe for Disaster. I was not in a poeming mood, but then I thought it over. A recipe for disaster; do we need one? does it really exist? If yes I know what to do ...
A recipe for disaster
Is not a thing I'm after.
But then again
I'd grab my pen
Jot down what not to master.
- - - - - -
Up and coming:
Dec. 16 - Recipe for Disaster (today)
Dec. 23 - Never Say Never and/or Christmas/Hanukkah
Dec. 30 - All Done
I have something to ask of you: If you read this and the poetry of others via the links, would you please leave a comment.
Half - if not more - the fun of these challenges is receiving the responses of others.
Today's prompt is A Recipe for Disaster. I was not in a poeming mood, but then I thought it over. A recipe for disaster; do we need one? does it really exist? If yes I know what to do ...
A recipe for disaster
Is not a thing I'm after.
But then again
I'd grab my pen
Jot down what not to master.
- - - - - -
Up and coming:
Dec. 16 - Recipe for Disaster (today)
Dec. 23 - Never Say Never and/or Christmas/Hanukkah
Dec. 30 - All Done
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