Apr. 11th, 2021
Title: Holmes's Vices
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes (ACD)
Rating: Mature for sex, drug use, and foul language
Length: 345
Notes: a parody of one of my favourite poems of all time, Ogden Nash's A Drink With Something in It
There is something about this solution
an elixir which stimulates dearly
a murky, a quirky solution
which sheds light transcendentally clearly
There is something about this solution
that banishes boredom and bane
it’s not the taste, nor the tint
and though but seven percent
I think it must be the cocaine.
( more )
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes (ACD)
Rating: Mature for sex, drug use, and foul language
Length: 345
Notes: a parody of one of my favourite poems of all time, Ogden Nash's A Drink With Something in It
There is something about this solution
an elixir which stimulates dearly
a murky, a quirky solution
which sheds light transcendentally clearly
There is something about this solution
that banishes boredom and bane
it’s not the taste, nor the tint
and though but seven percent
I think it must be the cocaine.
( more )
Poet's Corner: Ramadan by Kazim Ali
Apr. 11th, 2021 10:04 pmRamadan by Kazim Ali
You wanted to be so hungry, you would break into branches,
and have to choose between the starving month’s
nineteenth, twenty-first, and twenty-third evenings.
The liturgy begins to echo itself and why does it matter?
If the ground-water is too scarce one can stretch nets
into the air and harvest the fog.
Hunger opens you to illiteracy,
thirst makes clear the starving pattern,
the thick night is so quiet, the spinning spider pauses,
the angel stops whispering for a moment—
The secret night could already be over,
you will have to listen very carefully—
You are never going to know which night’s mouth is sacredly reciting
and which night’s recitation is secretly mere wind—
You wanted to be so hungry, you would break into branches,
and have to choose between the starving month’s
nineteenth, twenty-first, and twenty-third evenings.
The liturgy begins to echo itself and why does it matter?
If the ground-water is too scarce one can stretch nets
into the air and harvest the fog.
Hunger opens you to illiteracy,
thirst makes clear the starving pattern,
the thick night is so quiet, the spinning spider pauses,
the angel stops whispering for a moment—
The secret night could already be over,
you will have to listen very carefully—
You are never going to know which night’s mouth is sacredly reciting
and which night’s recitation is secretly mere wind—