Tuesday, April 8, 2008

A Shitty Day


I am so sluggish, my mind it is mush
Incisiveness gone in a circular flush
So gather with me those of similar mind
Let’s toast the raw day in insipient wine.

The dreary of mind can mix with the day
No matter what horrors are thrown in the way
To those others, so happy, with contented appeal
On down days their spirits can quickly congeal.

They say they can rally in the magic of Earth
Me, I’m not so certain if that’s better or worse.
I liken that thinking to scamming and fraud
Those gay songs of sunshine, flora, and sod.

You may find restoration in the song of a bird?
I find more release in a finely-formed turd.

15 comments:

joared said...

Are you having a bad day??? Loved your turdy poem -- does certainly describe some days. Gave me a laugh.

Pauline said...

omg - you make me LAUGH! Sure hope things work themselves out ;) "Incisiveness gone in a circular flush" indeed!

Can't wait until you are once again singing the praises of nature - I am feeling very conspicuous out on this happy nature poet limb of mine...

Roberta S said...

Hi joared. Nothing in my day, I can put my finger on except lack of sunshine, and writing stalled with no creative thoughts that are as provocative and challenging as I would like them to be. I refuse to take this kind of stall too seriously. And your laugh tells me you don't either. :)

Roberta S said...

pauline, my poetry doesn't come with the ease that yours does. I have to grab inspiration wherever I can get it. Sometimes from lofty heights, sometimes the lowest lows.

This is absolutely no criticism of your poetry and word magic. I am so often green with envy at your dexterity at poetic thoughts about everything around you.

As for me, what has happened here is I guess my 'dark side' found a crack and crawled out for a brief look around.

We laugh, cause he (my dark side) is rather funny-looking, is he not?

Joy Des Jardins said...

I love this...and somehow it found a niche with me on this cold, damp, dreary day. I'd much prefer the adrenaline of a true thunderous storm in its place.

You have a beautiful magic in your words Roberta.

Roberta S said...

We laugh, joy. Cause all in life is relative. Pleased to find you in my corner. I, too, would love a good thunderstorm on this kind of day. Thanks for the comment.

Matty said...

Roberta,
I do know how you feel...being at the hospital I was constipated for 6 days.....really painful! When I finally went........I was happier than a pig in sh--!

Great poem!

the old bag said...

Lack of sunshine there too! My GOD, it's April 12th and we're still below freezing with an inch of white still in spots...grey skies.

Turds, all of it.

Roberta S said...

matty, you are just too funny. I can laugh and am laughing heartily cause things turned out well for you. If they hadn't, I might have suppressed a snicker, but I wouldn't have laughed. Thanks for that cheery note.

Roberta S said...

OB, you're so right. We were promised delightful temps today and it did get fairly warm -- but nothing really changed. The gloomy cloud cover persisted for the entire day minus about 27 minutes of unimpeded sunshine.

I'm pretty fed up with it all. Thanks for the expression of understanding and sympathy.

Dick said...

Brilliant, Roberta! A fine set-up for that last line.

jim said...

Lol, Roberta, absolutely right too.

The latter is essential, essence of life, the former is icing on the cake, better the former than the latter if you can't have both, lol.

But look, things have to be said, like incipient wine has to be drunk. Saying makes the world go round, nothing offered nothing earned, something like that, lol.

Excellent poem.

jim said...

Sorry Roberta, I got that a bit wrong, must be the incipient wine talking, I meant, better the turd than the bird, if you can't have both.

Roberta S said...

Hi dick. Thanks for visiting.

I've been over to your blog and you have been very busy writing. Good to see that and glad to hear all is not so dire as you expected it to be.

Roberta S said...

jim, I love your twist that casts this bit of poetry into the more positive category of "Praise for Turds" rather than "Dishonor of Birds".

To make relative the status of what really is more important.