the dog ate my mother's toes: a dave barry meme
Oy. So much I want to write about today and the pile of work atop my desk has not cooperated by just disappearing like I asked it to.
Let's start with a little time waster that's making its way around the blogs, via Dave Barry.
Dave wants us all to send poems to Poetry.com. There's a reason and, as is always with Barry, it's a goofy little scheme of a reason.
But first, a poetry anecdote.
I was an aspiring poet when I was young. Weren't we all? When I was in ninth grade I came across the National Anthology of Poetry or something similar to that. Very distinguished sounding. Very prestigous. Right? Well, no.
I entered one of my bleeding heart poems about the Vietnam War or nuclear power or saving the whales, I don't remember which. It was accepted! I received a very official looking letter on very official looking letterhead with a very official embedded watermark on it and I rejoiced. Until I saw the official forms that came with that acceptance letter. You had to officially purchase the book that your poem was in, with official money.
Even in my ninth grade frame of mind, I knew this was fishy. Basically, they would accept any poem as long as you sent the "entry" fee and bought a hard covered, bound volume of the Anthology. I knew without even thinking about it twice that the book would contain enough bad poetry to make even a Hallmark card writer cringe. And I was paying them to publish my poem! No deal. I was disheartened, disillusioned and disgusted. A lot of disses there. I gave up on idealistic poetry and began writing dark, brooding free verse. I was goth before there was goth.
Anyhow, Poetry.com looks to be more of the same official looking contest, with an official looking prize given by an official looking site:
So anyway, this blog was just thinking how interesting it would be if a whole bunch of people submitted poems that contained a certain key poetic phrase. To see how it might work, this blog submitted a poem under the pen name of "Freemont A. Harkins," entitled: "A Sad Day." Here's how it goes:A Sad Day
i am sad, so very sad
the tears run down my nose
it was a happy day until
the dog ate mother's toes
Then he says:
Wouldn't it be fun if a lot of people submitted poems using a Pen Name that began with "Freemont" and incorporating the phrase, "the dog ate mother's toes"? Then we all could search for poems written under the first name of "Freemont" -- currently, this blog is the only one -- and see how creative everybody was!
So of course, I'm game. For this one, I used a goth poetry generator and just inserted the appropriate line.
Untitled
the night falls as if slain by the sun, cold and alone are we.
the god for which you sacrifice yourself
flares once, then dies,
crushed by a velvet ebon nothingness.
all hope must surely perish.
your soul thrives no more.
how could you cause such hurt, you damn, dog?
demons surround us, crying out
the dog ate my mother's toes!
the dog ate my mother's toes!
we are fallen
Penned in blood by Freemont Gahan
Now, go submit yours, and come back here with the title and your pen name so I can go look it up later.
UPDATE: That was fast. You can find my poem here.
Comments
Unfortunately, you can't link to individual poems: you bounce back to the front page.
My entry is under Freemont Xavier Spoonsworth.
Posted by: Spoons | July 15, 2003 10:07 AM
The whole line of toe poems is hilarious. Dave Barry is a freak.
Posted by: Val Prieto | July 15, 2003 10:08 AM
Mine is titled "Dreary Day" by Freemont Tee
Posted by: Rebecca | July 15, 2003 10:11 AM
Ha! The Goth Poem generator rocks!
My poem is here:
http://www.poetry.com/Publications/display.asp?ID=W9376436&BN=999&PN=1
Freemont Glasya
Posted by: DarthVOB | July 15, 2003 10:34 AM
A Meme I can get behind. Search for Freemont E. Hall and his epic work, "Misery Mine."
Posted by: Tracey | July 15, 2003 10:39 AM
Ick, my trackback came out all mangled. Ah well. Um, mine's under Freemont R. J. W. Jackson, called "Me mum & me dad".
Posted by: Erica | July 15, 2003 10:54 AM
My Mentor Has No Beret, by Freemont Peckerwood.
Posted by: Paul | July 15, 2003 10:59 AM
Kid Stuff, by Freemont Fomenter. It's a limerick.
Posted by: Hei Lun | July 15, 2003 12:22 PM
mine is "the modification of one helpless entity" by Freemont F.M. Montfree.
Posted by: stacey | July 15, 2003 12:37 PM
Canine Abyss By Freemont B. Deseratue. My best work ever!
Posted by: lplimac | July 15, 2003 01:47 PM
I wrote three.
"Yum," "Haiku," and "First Grecian Urn: Tragedy" all by Freemont Grae.
Fun.
Posted by: Jane Grae | July 15, 2003 02:31 PM
Mendicanticus Eroticus by Fullbright C. Freemont of Fremont, California contains all the elements of great bad poetry: autumn, suicidal thoughts, broken hearts and a gratuitous non-sequitur.
Posted by: annika | July 15, 2003 05:05 PM
That is the best idea I've heard in a really long time. I'm in. :)
I, too, went through the brief excitement of "hey, they want to publish my stuff!" Then, I got fishy -- I sent in a good poem, and they wanted it. I sent in a mediocre poem, and they wanted that, too. Then, I looked at the first thing my eyes rested on (a stack of milk crates, as it turns out) and wrote the most misterable piece of less-than-20-line shit ever -- and they wanted that, too. Definitely a sham, the NLP/ISP. Oh, did you get the ISP stuff, too, the International Society of Poets, where they'll let you in and let you pay lots of money to go to their convention, plus then they send you fliers offering to put your poem on a plaque, send you a recording of a professional poetry reader reciting your poem, etc.? It's nuts how much shit they'll try to sell you.
Posted by: M | July 16, 2003 01:42 AM
Any "Animal House" fans?
Limericks are better than prose
I thought while picking my nose
Well, that's it
"Sneaky little s..."
And my dog ate my mother's toes.
Freemont C. Niedermeyer
Posted by: A fine scotch | July 17, 2003 03:05 PM
Gardening Tools Stop Smoking Car Parts Sports Books Herbal Remedy
Posted by: Snowboard Boots | January 11, 2004 11:50 AM
I sent in many Freemont poems, but all of them got removed except one, by Freemont A. B. C. D. E. F. G. Flobadob, called 'Family'. This is the best one I wrote:
Beloved Toes
by Freemont Freemontie Freemontgomery
The church bells ring as we hold the coffin
Every chime seems to cry out, 'Toes!'
My mother weeps as she bids goodbye
To her pericombobulous artifacts
Toes!
Buster's vomit lies, motionless, on velvet
Regurgitated toes!
It's strange how a few knobbly things
Can mean so much to your mother
Toes!
Buster, of course, has been put down
So he wouldn't eat my mother's fingers
Yet I still find it hard to believe
The dog ate mother's toes
Toes!
Posted by: Free Mont | January 22, 2004 09:27 AM