Today’s prompts at Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday are cold and storm, synonyms only.
Where I am concerned,
‘A whirlwind of apathy’
best describes your heart.
And you? A limp, oily carp,
yesterday’s catch thrown back.
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Wild-Ass Solo Gig
We join Sebastian and François in their shared bedroom/laboratory as they peruse one of Paracelsus’ homunculus recipes.
“So?” Sebastian persisted. “Whaddaya think? Do you wanna do it or not?”
François sighed, shaking his head. “I dunno, dude. It’s pretty creepy…”
“Of course it’s creepy. We’re not makin’ a birthday cake!”
“I know, but…like, I don’t even know what a cucurbit is. Do you —”
“A pumpkin,” Sebastian interrupted. A cucurbit is a pumpkin.”
“Yeah? Then why doesn’t the guy call it a pumpkin?”
“Well let’s see. Maybe because back then they weren’t called pumpkins?”
“Whatever.” François waved his brother’s comment away. “What about the horse manure? Where’s that gonna come from?”
“Ummm.” Sebastian feigned concentration. “Horses?”
“You know what I mean!”
“What’s really buggin’ you, Frankie?”
“Nothin.’” François rose from his chair and began pacing the room. He jammed his hands in his jean pockets. “Nothin’s buggin’ me.”
“Uh-huh.” Sebastian folded his arms across his chest and grinned knowingly. “I bet I know what’s freakin’ you out.”
The tips of François’ ears reddened, matching his cheeks. “Shut up, Sebo.”
“You’re worried about the number three ingredient, aren’t you?”
François rolled his eyes. “I don’t even know what number three is.”
“Semen?“
“Okay, so who’s gonna, I mean, where we gettin’ it?”
Still grinning, Sebastian cocked an eyebrow at his brother.
“No way, dude!” François countered, wide-eyed and nearly begging. “You know what’ll happen if we do that!”
“We aren’t doing anything.” Sebo giggled. “It’s a solo gig.”
“Well, I’m not the one who’s gonna go blind!“
“What?” Sebo squinted at his brother. “Blind? Frankie, what are —”
“I already wear glasses!” Frankie blustered. “People go blind from…y’know…solo gigs.”
“Who told —” Sebastian busted out laughing. “Who, toldja that?”
Frankie stood proudly with his hands on his hips and announced, “Mom.“
assorted cucurbits in NC Share this:
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Tan Renga with Jane
The challenge for this weekend meditation at Carpe Diem Haiku is to create Tan Renga with the below three given haiku by Jane Reichhold. A Tan Renga looks like a Tanka, but is written by two poets instead of one poet. It’s a kind of chained poem. You have to create the second stanza of each Tan Renga.
a certain calm
in summer’s passing
flowers
in bloom but quivering
twilight chills the air.flat seas
with the butterfly’s flight
a certain calm
moon rises slow and full
rippling gentle watersthe hour silent
before the birds awake
waves on sand
bare footprints erased
with yesterday’s sand castles
istockphoto Share this:
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Backward Glance
O, the times
I’d tried to give you
my heart, only to watch you
furrow your brow smooth
your mustache, and then
turn on your heel and walk briskly
back to your life — without so much
as a backward glance.
alosangelestherapist.com Share this:
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Wild-Ass Recipe
Birds were chirping, bees were buzzing, and flowers blooming. In other words, it was a typical summer afternoon in the Abnormal, MI home of the Wild-Ass Limbourg brothers. One would expect that such a gorgeous day would have goosed the boys’ imaginations beyond the speed limit, but they were having none of it. Instead, Sebo and Frankie preferred to mope in their shared bedroom.
“I miss Pendragon.” Sebo sighed, flinging his ParasiteMan comic book across the room. “It’s freakin’ boring around here without him.”
“I hear ya barkin,’ big dog,” Frankie said. “That little dude was one of a kind…literally.”
Sebo grinned. “Yeah, he sure was.” He picked up Pendragon’s old stuffed tarantula and began tossing it gently in the air and catching it. “Wonder how he’s doing at that stupid circus.”
“We can only hope he’s happy.” Frankie shrugged. “Hey, why don’t you ask Gram to send you another Homunculus Hero kit? It wouldn’t be the same as Pendragon, but we could…”
“Naah,” Sebo interrupted. “I already asked her. They’ve been banned.”
“Banned? You’re kidding me!”
“Nope! Sucks, doesn’t it?”
“But, why?”
“I’m not for sure, but I think because of the duBerry twins.” Sebo explained. “They didn’t follow the directions.”
“Sounds about right for Razz & Dingle. So, what’d they do?”
“Injected a synthesis of Hello Kitty! an’ Stretch Armstrong DNA. Ended up with a muscle-bound homunculus that coughed-up three-foot-long, radioactive hairballs.
“No shit? Did Hazmat come?”
“Hell yeah, they came.”
“Man, I miss everything!”
Later that same day…
“Dude, c’mere!” Frankie hollered from the computer room. “You’re not gonna believe this!”
Sebo sauntered in, slurping a strawberry smoothie. “What?”
“Lookit! I found this Theophrastus Paracelsus guy who knows how to make a homunculus from scratch!”
“Nuh-uhhh…” The Doubting Sebo replied. “Lemme see that.”
“It gives you the whole recipe!” Frankie scooted a cheek to make room for his brother.
Sebo’s lips moved silently as he read Paracelsus’ instructions. “Aw, man. This can’t be right.”
“Whoa. What the…?”
“EWWWW!”
“Is this guy serious?”
Paracelsus Share this:
Ergo, the Ogre 