#30in30... Done

My farewell to the POET Spotlight seemed a fitting completion of the #30in30 Challenge

 

April's turning in to May... The Spotlight's moving on.
Silly rhymes won't clutter up this page, 'cause I'll be gone...
But, before I leave the stage, I'd like to thank you all.
I don't know about you guys, but I have had a ball.

If, perchance, you liked my rhymes and want to read some more
Google Dr. Seussilitis... There are rhymes galore.
And, to the real poet that this page will now appoint,
Let me - please - apologize for messing up the joint.

Behind the Curve

30 poems, 30 days...  I've posted 24 -

Meaning that I'm 3 behind (in case you're keeping score.)

Now I'll have to double up on rhymes; write 2 a day

If I want to meet my goal before we're in to May.

I might even cheat a bit and post an interview

Which an honor I received required me to do.

Answered questions with a rhyme and, if I counted those,

You could say I've passed my goal of 30, I suppose.

Spotlight Interview

Facebook's POET Spotlight fell on me this month.

Who am I?

Also known as Mrs. Smeej; a mother and a wife.
Live in Massachusetts and enjoy suburban life;
Sister, daughter, golfer, and a junky for the news.
Sufferer of Seussilitis - hence, I rhyme my views.

I have got the rhyming bug. I caught it years ago.
(Pity the afflicted; we could be someone you know.)
It is very catchy so be careful or, like me,
You'll find there's no cure for this back at the CDC.

Why do I love poetry?

I'm a fan of poetry though, poet I am not.
(Seussilitis symptoms caused my mind to start to rot)
Poems are like gourmet meals. My rhymes? A junk-food snack.
Poets have great talents... What I've got's a silly knack.

So, I envy poets - they are thoughtful and profound.
All my rhyming does is prove I'm mentally unsound.
What I do to language poets must regard as crime.
Poetry seeks deeper truths; all I can do is rhyme.

When did I start writing?

Once I was a normal person, then I caught this bug.
Started with the Red Sox (before they had beards to tug)
Back on Steve King's Message Board is where it all began;
Got into a rhyming duel against a Yankees fan.

Other people started rhyming; it began to spread.
Seussilitis outbreak messed with everybody's head.
I felt very guilty that I'd made so many sick;
Figured I would spare them - hoped a blog would do the trick.

What are my goals?

Only goal I have right now is making rhyming pay;
Haven't got it figured out but, surely, there's a way.

Poets I love?

If you're from New England, educated in our schools,
There are poets you must like... It says so in the rules:
Dickinson and Emerson and, always, Robert Frost.
When I'm reading Whittier, however, I get lost.

Where do I get my inspiration?

I get inspiration when I'm driving in my car;
Usually I'm listening to local NPR.
Sometimes it's the Patriots or other local sports,
Sometimes it's my children or the nightly news reports.

I don't really pick the thing that sparks the latest rhyme;
Something clicks inside my head in its own damn good time.
Once I have the topic then the words just seem to flow...
Diarrhea of the mind (as you, by now, should know.)

Do I have any advice?

I'm not very comfortable with offering advice;
Don't know what I'm doing and, besides - it isn't nice.
Rhymers shouldn't try to tell real poets what to do...
I think it's more likely I'd get good advice from you.

Other forms?

When I'm feeling pressured for time,
My blog still requires a rhyme.
A poet, like you,
Might offer haiku
While I find the limerick's sublime.

The ideal environment to write in?

Seussilitis symptoms only seem to manifest
Early in the morning; once the gang is gone is best -
Or, depending on the way you look at things, the worst -
I'm not really sure if it's a blessing or I'm cursed...

Which brings up the final question; Where would this world be
If it didn't have the room for lunatics like me
Or for those of you who open windows into souls?
Life without such poetry would leave some gaping holes.

Thank you for the honor of this Spotlight, Mr. Stark.
I am very flattered and, for me, it's been a lark.

At The Miriam

(Photo of Miriam Hospital courtesy of Brown.edu)

Hospitals are not the place you want to spend your day,

Even if it's raining and the sky is dark and gray,

Even when the doctor's skilled and all the staff is kind,

Somewhere else you'd rather be would not be hard to find.

That's if you're the patient who is having surgery...

When you love that person, there is no place else to be.

So, if I should miss a rhyme, I hope you'll understand

Sometimes things do not turn out exactly as we planned.

'though I hope to get around to posting 30 rhymes,

Be aware - you may observe a gap or two, at times.

And, if you are sitting in a hospital somewhere,

You have all my sympathy.  I've offered up a prayer.

Tooting My Own Horn

(Photo/Courtesy of Writeassociate.com)

Please feel free to skip this rhyme; just tooting my own horn.

Normally, I do not like to brag, so I was torn.

Still, I'd like to share it so I'll screw humility;

Poet Spotlight's featured poet for the month is me.

I was thrilled when I was asked (although it's a mistake)

There's a hundred poets more deserving of this break.

I am not a poet; I just have a knack for rhyme

And, before you ask, I didn't pay this guy a dime.

When I tried to warn him that his judgement was impaired,

Wanting to insure his reputation would be spared,

Brian didn't change his mind (at least, he hasn't yet)

Clearly, he's still unaware of how bad this could get.