I have no idea where that title came from.
Yes, that’s right. It’s time for another stream-of-consciousness scatterthought–something I haven’t done in a long time. I’m just sittin’ here typing, with no real thought to express and The Simpsons in the background.
Hmm, that’s probably where the donut reference came from. I love this stream-of-consciousness stuff.
So, what’s popping into my head.
Man, this is a serious waste of time.
Oh, here’s something.
After last night’s 3am post, I got an idea for a poem. It seemed like a good idea at first, and then everything went downhill from there. You see, the idea was to quasi-rhyme the lines of the poem with homophones…words that sound the same but have different spellings. The particular line that started this was:
– The beauty of a mind, that fits so well with mine
Truth be told, that’s not even a homophone. But close enough. I’m enough of a hack that I’ll accept it. Anyway, this put me on a mission to come up with more lines for the poem. That is, after all, what you do when you write poetry. Even if you’re a hack. The next line I came up with was:
– The wish that she was here, her lovely voice to hear
Okay, that’s better. Much better. An actual homophone, and only semi-stomach turning.
Now at this point, I couldn’t think of anymore homophones, so I turned to the Internet. In particular, Peter Suber and A.L.P. Thorpe’s “An English Homophone Dictionary“, which I found through a Google search.
In truth, it would have just been better for me to stop there. But sadly, this was not the case. A quick scan through the very comprehensive Web site revealed very little in the way of useful homophones. But remember, I’m a hack. So I whipped up the following.
Warning: these lines really, really suck. Any self-respecting individual would deny their existence completely. Especially anyone who makes their living as a writer. Unfortunately, my life is based on providing entertainment, so I don’t have any such limitations. And hey, you’re being entertained, right?
You’ve been warned.
– My spirits rise so high, the moment she says hi
– This feels so very right, about it I must write
– That I could be her knight, and dream of her every night
Wow. Those lines really, really bite. And don’t get me wrong–I knew they were bad when I wrote them. I just find it more amusing to share the utter badness with you than to simply delete them.
Anyway, I got that far and then was sufficiently ashamed of myself that I was able to shut down my brain and go to sleep. So I’d say that the…hmm, what should we call this sucker. Oh lord, I just thought of the perfect, utterly horrible name for this collection of creative debris.
We’ll call it the “homopoem”.
Hang on. I can’t type properly while I’m laughing and crying. And I can’t say “homopoem” without doing both…or wanting to throw up.
Okay, I’m better now. I just have to not write or say homopoem anynore. I mean, amymore. Anymore.
Anyway, the homopoem served some purpose by helping me go to sleep.
Geez, I hope you’re finding this as amusing as I am. If not, then you’ve lost all respect for me by now. Not that I expected you to have much for me in the first place.
Okay, well, that’s enough about my bad poetry moment. To redeem myself, let’s link to some of the good stuff I’ve written before. In particular, the two shakespearean style sonnets that are my favourites. I’ve always like the sonnet form, which has such a simple and balanced sound, but is actually a little tricky to work with.
Of course, you can find my other poems and past writings on my archived HTML site. And no, you will never, ever see the homopoem appear there, or anywhere else. Never again.
Hee hee. Homopoem. Man do I amuse myself.
By the way, you people haven’t been holding up your end of the bargain. I was told that I’d get comments if I switched to a blogging system, and I’m not getting a whole lot here. If you want me to stick with this stuff, then I expect some comments and lots of ’em. Especially when I give you something as truly bad as the homopoem.
Heck, you don’t even have to have anything useful to say. It’s not like I do.