Career opportunities, the ones that never knock

The interwebs are a dangerous place.  I stumbled upon a link to Google sites, and now I have a ton of ideas about linking wayward posts, and things  ::am vague::.  I did have an idea about the story I am writing being online, virtual with links, and photos, and maps and other interactive stuff.  Not sure I am up to that level, but ideas abound.

Just what I need, more projects.  Can I purchase some time?  That would be an amazing Google feature.  And you know one day, when they own the earth, they will have conquered time.  That app will be on its way.  It had better be free.

breaking silence, sweeping up the pieces will be difficult

One would never know it by my posting frequency, but I have been around. Except in about 3 hours we will be leaving on vacation. And I doubt the wilds of Ontario will have wifi.

Don't break the intartubes while I am gone, but if you do, definitely send me the links so I can catch up later.

Have a good one.

April 20

Tribble Double Dactyl

Star Trekie, Star Trekie,
"The Trouble with Tribbles",
Quadrotriticale,
worrisome grain.

James T. Kirk, James T. Kirk,
buried up to his chest.
Cyrano Jones tries for
financial gain.

April 14

This is Not a Cat Poem

Charged with a Napo mission
and meowing ambition,
this poem will not be feline.
So I must sadly decline

most gracious offers of such.
Each of the others, I’ll vouch
Olympian in their catlike scope,
will be more amusing. I hope.

Apologies to PIL who would hate this.

Vicky, purring

April 9

Words between the Chores

The blanket doesn’t keep me warm.
It lets in the cold like cats pawing
at an opening door. I should be cooking
as dinner time furls in the hungry breeze.
Ranking and flagging meals, this time more tired.
The oven crackles with imagined expansion.

The poems are flying off of me like lice.
They are hopping and hoping, dancing
for their lives. Now raw meat
is smeared across the page; writing
in the kitchen is wrought
with butchering and rendering, the fat
bucket fills. We won’t speak of the broken
carrot peeler, snapped off in an orange haze
of peels and roots, adjectives and verbs,
or the deluge by the sink, the curse of Noah.
His wife did not have a name. But I bet you
she cleaned up after the flood. Two of every
animal! You know she did.

It is quiet now. The blanket is resting,
the kitchen is calm. The cupboards are closed,
and words have a place next to the folded towels.

Thanks for reading.
Vicky
[all true except for the flood and the lice, but there needed to be a flood]

A war song perhaps

And now every April I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me
And I watch my old comrades, how proudly they march
Reliving old dreams of past glory
And the old men march slowly, all bent, stiff and sore
The forgotten heroes from a forgotten war
And the young people ask, "What are they marching for?"
And I ask myself the same question...

I heard this on my Ipod this morning at the grocery shop, and couldn't help but relate it to previous Napowrimos. LOL Just this bit though, as I am not that cynical.

My poem is written for tomorrow, now I just have to editeditedit. Because really, that is only where there is hope! LOL I should just keep writing today, because I have to go to work tomorrow, and that will suck up the time. March break is done for me. Woe LOL

Preparing

I woke with a poem!!!

Napo'ing

I'm in. May any gods or their minions, or even their minion's minions, that exist in any place in this universe or another, please help me this April.

Vicky

What is different from the others?

- Rape or abuse, or sex without a plot.
- Gore or violence for their own sake.
- Gratuitous character death; we want 'little deaths' not snuff.
- Racist or homophobic fiction.
- Sex with minors.
- Bestiality, though werewolf sex is acceptable.
- Scat.
- Clichés.
- Poetry.

I am so amused by the inclusion of the last item of unacceptable submissions for a new online magazine.

My god, for all that is holy, no poetry, that would be horrible! LOL

I love it twice, it must be a lyric

"i love it i love it every time every time"

Never had a google search find my journal, first hit, with something like this! Even above Wikis and Youtubevision. I am so amused.

Usually it is Smarties boxes, and little girl's dressers. And by typing this I have doomed myself. And poets of course. It makes me think I should just write the name of every poet EVAR and get my google rating up over a 3. Not that I would of course, but still.

This amuses me greatly. Enough even to use the zombie tag, something I save for special occasions.

Have a great evening!

More more

I have gotten at least half of the known Christmas shopping done. There are always unknowns, hence the disclaimer.

But for all that is holy on this earth, I ask Bed, Bath and Beyond to burn/bury/slay the scented pine cones at their front doors. Gag inducing stench. It is truly horrid, and the cinnamon(?) oil must be in the air, because I can still smell it, 45 minutes later. Why would anyone put those in their home! My head still hurts from the smell.

But more shopping is complete, so that is good. The gifts are jumping out at me, and I know exactly for whom I will purchase them. And luckily, almost all on sale. It is good.

I am going to make pizza for dinner, because I want a very casual evening. I don't have to work until next Tuesday, and that is good too. Writing group tomorrow, so I had better get critiquing those poems.

Have a great evening!