Welcome to the Fun Factory!

Luna Park, Sydney, Australia, photo: Sascha Grant

Calling all punsters, all witty-quippers, all wordspinners— 
the fun factory is open for business! 

Last week, Kate O'Neil challenged us to write a poem with words at play. (Read her TLD reader spotlight HERE.)

Someone very wise once said—

duncan c

(Attributed to Benjamin Franklin, George Bernard Shaw, Thomas Jefferson, Babe Ruth, Oliver Wendell Holmes, and any number of others, including Anonymous.)

Kudos to whoever it was. I wholeheartedly agree! 

So in an effort to counter the process of aging (beauty sleep be damned), I've been thinking a lot about this challenge over the past several days. On Tuesday, I shared a playful couplet from Ogden Nash that fits the bill. I could have just as easily shared these two clever lines from Douglas Florian. The humorous and imaginative verse of Jack Prelutsky comes to mind for this challenge, Calef Brown's mash-ups, and several zany poems by J. Patrick Lewis, including this one. In a comment to last week's interview, Tabatha Yeatts mentioned Brian Bilston and Greg Pincus. While Kate suggested malapropisms, ambiguities, unintended meanings, puns, and cliches as sources of inspiration, it occurred to me that wordplay can also be expressed visually—by playing with word sequence or layout, like these examples from Bob Racska's Wet Cement. I like that some of you on the padlet are going in that direction.

The early onset of Black Friday sales this month reminded me of a wordplay poem I wrote back in 2013. It's about the relentless Internet ads that pop up during this season of retail holiday cheer.  Indulge me as I repost it six years later—a brief little affair I call "Cyber Seduction."

Cyber

Seduction

It all began

with cookies. Now

and then, you popped up

unexpectedly.   It was cute,

you were sweet, and before long

you fell into step with my digital footprint.

Just a fling, I told myself, but you wanted more:

my time, attention, undying devotion, a credit card number

and personal security code.  And then it happened.  Black Friday.

It was late. There on my lap in the bedroom, aura glowing, you

told me I was glamorous, well-to-do, elite, and that XL or XS

didn’t matter. “2-for-1,” you said, “a limited-time offer.”

So I gave you my IP address, my credit card, the

works.  Who could resist those promises,

now as empty as my bank account? 

For a time I thought we clicked,

but now I realize I did all

the clicking. And what

once was 2-for-1,

is now just me,

50% off.

© 2013 Michelle Heidenrich Barnes. All rights reserved.

...storrao...

Our fun factory is waiting for your wordplay poem! While there, enjoy the ditties already posted by Michelle Kogan, Linda Trott Dickman, Janie Lazo, Dianne Moritz, Linda Baie, Diane Mayr, and Cindy Breedlove.

Thanks to Irene Latham, our "still and steady" host of this week's Poetry Friday roundup. You'll find her and this week's offerings at Live Your Poem. Join me here for next week's roundup and a big announcement!

DMC: "Santa had a heaping pack" by Kristi Veitenheimer

 

Sung to the tune of "Mary Had a Little Lamb."

Santa had a heaping pack,
heaping pack, heaping pack,
Santa had a heaping pack 
which was filled up with toys.

He needed to find boys and girls,
boys and girls, boys and girls.
He needed to find boys and girls
who had been good all year.

Santa looked at this year’s list,
this year’s list, this year’s list.
Santa looked at this year’s list
and plotted a fast route.

He loaded the pack on his sled,
on his sled, on his sled.
He loaded the pack on his sled
and called his best reindeer.

Red-nosed Rudolph led the way,
led the way, led the way.
Red-nosed Rudolph led the way
to each and every home.

Christmas morn they all woke up,
all woke up, all woke up.
Christmas morn they all woke up
to see what Santa brought.

All the children laughed and played,
laughed and played, laughed and played.
All the children laughed and played
with Santa's Christmas loot.

Back home Santa took a nap,
took a nap, took a nap.
Back home Santa took a nap
that lasted through the day. 

© 2014 Kristi Dee Veitenheimer. All rights reserved.

Tamera Will Wissinger has challenged us to come up with a parody or tribute poem this month.  (Click HERE for details.)  If you would like to join in the fun, send your poem to TodaysLittleDitty (at) gmail (dot) com or use the contact form in the sidebar to the right. 

All participants will be rounded up on July 25th 

and entered to win a copy of Tamera's delightful new picture book, 

THIS OLD BAND. 

The Flight Before Christmas

Ready or not, the holiday season is upon us.  Are you a thriver or a surviver?  I like to complain about Christmas craziness as much as the next person, but truth be told, I love this season of joyful chaos: the twinkling lights, the holiday music that drives my husband crazy, my children's effervescence, spending time with family and friends, and the foundation of love and generosity that underlies it all.

Oh, and did I mention the 3rd Annual Holiday Writing Contest, sponsored by Susanna Leonard Hill?  Now there's some jolly good fun to ring in the season!  The rules: write a children's story about a Holiday Mishap, mix-up, miscommunication, mistake, or potential disaster (a la Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer).  Your story may be poetry or prose, silly or serious or sweet, religious or not, based on Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa or whatever you celebrate, but is not to exceed 350 words.

Be sure to stop by Susanna's blog, Something for Everyone in the World of Children's Books, to peruse all of the entries.  After finalists have been selected, voting will take place starting December 16th, and winners announced on Thursday, December 19th.

I hope you enjoy reading my (330 word) entry as much as I enjoyed writing it!

 

THE FLIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS

‘Twas a week before Christmas and all was not well.

While out on a test flight, the sleigh hit a swell.

An icy cold blast took St. Nick by surprise

and sent him careening through blustery skies.

Tossed this-a-way, that-a-way, capsized, upended,

a thought flashed before him as Santa descended:

What good are warm boots and a snazzy red suit,

if what you don’t have is a good parachute?

He called to his reindeer (though none were in sight),

“Come Dasher! Come Dancer!  Be swift in your flight!

Come Prancer and Vixen!  Come Comet and Cupid!”

But none of them came, and poor Santa felt stupid.

Through clouds of whipped cream, he kerplopped like a cherry;

his jolly demeanor, now somewhat less merry.

With huge, booming voice he exclaimed,

"HO HO HO!

 READY OR NOT…

 LOOK OUT BELOW!”

Unaware, until then, of the ill-fated flight,

the elves all looked up with their jaws dropped in fright.

Could it be?  Yes, it was!  Old St. Nick in free fall!

Those quick-witted elves wasted no time at all.

They worked as a team, without missing a beat,

to pile up snow, oh, at least fifty feet.

Would Santa Claus notice with everything white?

He needed a map he could read from great height.

So the elves in their hats of bright red and bright green

encircled the mound to make sure it was seen—

the red hats on one side, the green on the other.

At first they formed one word, and then came another:

the reds on the left side spelled L-A-N-D;

on the right were the green hats with H-E-R-E.

While Santa still dropped like a streak through the sky,

he saw this and gave a most gratified sigh.

He aimed, best he could, for the elves’ snowy mound

that cushioned his fall when, at last, he hit ground.

Nothing came close to the love Santa felt…

with a smile he said, “Guess I need a seat belt.”

© 2013 Michelle Heidenrich Barnes. All rights reserved.

Poetry Friday friends, there's more fun to be had just around the bend!  Please join our round-up host, Tabatha Yeatts, at The Opposite of Indifference.

A Christmas Calamity

Santa's workshop in North Pole, NY via Wikimedia Commons

Today's little ditty was inspired by Julie Larios' post last week.  At The Drift Record, Julie paid tribute to American poet John Hollander who passed away earlier this month.  One of the things John Hollander is known for is inventing the double dactyl form with co-conspirator Anthony Hecht.  Julie describes the form well (so I won't bother doing it here); but even if you saw her post last week, it's worth revisiting to check out the colorful poems that have collected in her comments.

I confess, at first I was intimidated by this form-- too many SAT words!  But when I took a closer look and saw how much fun others were having, I decided to pull up my boot straps and give it a try.  Little did I know, my boots would be the shiny black kind worn by a kindhearted man with a white beard, red fur-lined suit, and a special fondness for children and snack food!  Apparently my muse has had quite enough of this Florida summer.

                     THE UNFORTUNATE DEMISE 

                              OF OL’ SAINT NICK

                     Piggledy Jiggledy

                     Jolly Saint Nicholas

                     choked on his Ho Ho and

                     fell to the floor.

                     Baffling, laughable,

                     megaridiculous!

                     Elves know that Santa liked

                     Twinkies much more.

                               © 2013 Michelle Heidenrich Barnes. All rights reserved.

Now won't you please join Tara at A Teaching Life for all the goodies at this week's Poetry Friday roundup?  Oh... and I'll bring the Ho Ho's.