For The Sunday Whirl poetry prompt: Wordle #172
irritation, sound, disclose, bliss, last, signal,
appetite, sun, flamboyant, jumbled, point, tire
With a seeming appetite for irritation,
he discloses most recent occurrence for
flamboyant, often overdone agitation.
Someone else is always to blame.
Ignoring polite social signals, he finds bliss
in proclaiming missteps in colleagues’ behavior,
super quick to point a finger, raising sound
of his voice above surrounding chatter.
With grumbling need, must always have last
word. Never tires of explaining how the sun
is a dying star, and that means nothing is of real
importance in this jaded, jumbled, tumbled world.
That Time of Year Again
Flamboyant bliss is never found
in filling out forms. Voiceless,
without a sound, they signal certain
jumbled blank void, pointing toward
hidden place in primitive brain stem.
Upon first appearance they swiftly
move past irritation, disclosing
dark and numbing fear. Having no
appetite for their silent intimidation,
quickly grow exceedingly tired,
yearning for rest and bright sunlight.
Elizabeth Crawford 8/3/14
Notes: The first thing these words brought to mind was the TV character Dr. House (have been watching back episodes on Netflix). They wouldn’t let go until I wrote the first piece.
Did that, but then they spoke to another very real issue: my phobia about filling out forms. My daughter, who comes alongside to help, says that I am normally an intelligent and articulate woman, but faced with an empty form to fill out, I become something else…I believe she mentioned drooling…lol.
First image is from the internet. Second one is how my brain feels when faced with a form that needs information and answers. It began as a pen and ink doodle but was altered digitally by a distortion app.