Kitty expressed doubts Regarding my forehead cuts. I'll give him a pic.
I told you they were small but curious. They're so darn PERFECT and tiny, and yet not one of us can make sense of their appearance. Yet again, I've ended up as an X-File!
Mysterious cuts Have appeared on my forehead. From what, I do not know.
Seriously. In the middle of rehearsal I realized I had two small, but bleeding, cuts on my forehead, one above the other. I have no idea when or how they came to be.
O scratch in my throat, 'Tis now time for you to leave; You're not welcome here.
Quite frankly, things are too busy for voice issues and, unfortunately, that means they're also too busy to recover properly. I'll be mute by the time 2010 rolls around, I'm sure.
Finally a draft Two pages shorter than planned. Not bad. Let's revise.
Ahhh. I've finally got something to work with and I know that over the next few days, revising will seriously strengthen some of the problem areas. In the end, it's a working draft I'm shooting for, and changes will be made as we go, no doubt. Aaahhh. Now to get the rest of the music arranged...
Snowflakes that sparkle Exactly like the fake snow I bought at the store.
Seriously. The snow out tonight is so sparkly and flakey that it seems unreal. It reminds me of a time that I was driving to work and the sky and clouds looked so surreal, more like a Maxfield Parrish painting than a real sky at all. Crazy.
Seeing me tonight Going to bed before ten, All must not be well.
I'm a complete nighthawk, but here I am, preparing to pack it in. I'm exhausted, rough of voice, and in a perpetual state of sneeze. Yeesh. Give me a break.
Rampant ugliness Was rightly to be found at Sarah's and Luke's place.
The latest Ugly Party was held and enjoyed by those in attendance. Although a small group this time around, it was also a nice reunion with former workplace friends. Thanks to Sarah and Luke for hosting!
Why not? I'd do it If Kevin John McDonald Wanted to direct.
I watched the movie version for the first time tonight. Kevin used to joke about how much fun it would be to do the show with me and, although it would be a huge step out of my comfort zone, it would be quite an experience. Not one for the parents, needless to say!
Dear Miss Jordin Sparks: Read the lyrics for "Tattoo". Ridiculous-bad.
Seriously. Who writes this crap? "You're on my heart just like a tattoo." 'Cause tattoos on major internal organs are all the rage. What a lame attempt at nifty imagery. Sorry. Doesn't work for me.
A & P cashier, Your pace is lethargic, slow, And painful to watch.
Sweet mother, this woman was moving at a mollassian speed, and it IS January, to boot. Not only was it slow, but with that mind-numbing lack of energy that is hard to be around. It's clear why she works the overnight shift rather than the day.
Surrounded by walls, Carefully folded and and fresh; Cloth replacing stone.
Yes, I've caught up on laundry and it sits all around me in tidy little piles. I don't really feel like taking it upstairs and putting it all away, but having it spread about my living room is, perhaps, less than ideal. Of course, if I just get dressed down here every day, it will soon find its way back into the laundry again, right? Right? (I think I've reached new levels of laziness...)
Traditionally Haiku references nature. Not all of these do.
For the purists out there, I thought I'd point it out. I'm well aware. I'm also aware that there is another haiku convention -- the secondary image which adds weight to the first -- which won't always be, and already has not been, followed religiously.
Skinless and plaintive, A half-burned sheep, still alive, In a dog bed box.
This is actually from a dream I had a couple of days ago, but it was bumped by the squirrel. I'm sure that dream interpreters could have a heyday with the imagery, but I'm not that interested.
Stretched on ice-glazed grass Frozen little squirrel friend, Fluffy still in death.
A poor little fellow I passed while walking to the mailbox. No sign of injury, yet sadly no sign of life. Maybe he slipped on the icy sidewalk, as I periodically feared I might do, and fatally bumped his wee squirrel head.
New year's just begun. Will three hundred sixty-six Haiku be coming?
That's right, dear reader. If Keltie can make a mask for each day of the year, then SURELY I can write a seventeen-syllable, three line poem for each day. Hopefully I will keep at it and come up with something for each day of 2008.