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TWISTING  2018 Washington Post's Annual Mensa Invitational: Change the Meaning of a Word by Changing One Letter in the word. See if you can come up with ONE brilliant new word to replace an old one. How about these ? Squid pro Quohog= The Fishmonger's dilemma Promisses= Promises given\promisses materialized Defliction= The consequences attributable to the effects unintended consequences Encrouching= To intrude while semi-squatting. Often done in theaters en route to mid row seats Claustraphobic= What Santa feels as he climbs down the chimneys Multiasking= The frantic behaviour of children approximately two weeks before Christmas Tunesia= Inability to remember a melody you once knew Latte= Fashionably unpunctual with an attitude Hebrew= "It's a Man's Beer!" Drolling= Posting a weak joke in an online comment section in the hope of getting someone to post an lol Petiatrician= A specialist of veterinary medicine whose practice only treats puppies and kittens Retickulation= The revelation that there is a tick on you again Smortcuts= "Smart" shortcuts–those clever dodges that don't get you anywhere except into trouble oxymoron= A sly simpleton Madician= A mentally challenged magician Pregret= Kowing you'll later wish you hadn't Calumnist= Attendee at a White House press briefing Donsortium= The Mafia Baldercash= The ridiculous money spent on unsuccessful hair regimens Meadusa= A besotted and snaky sorceress Nextrovert= Willing to intereact ONLY with the person sitting next to you at a dinner party YOUR TURN  -->Cantatta: Can't Ever Say Goodbye. |
 Before we Bid Farewell to all of our friends who took part in W.Com's Parade of Poets, we are pleased to share One Last Poem with you. Pause for a few minutes to join Schnujo   who is delighted to introduce Steven  and his feisty poem.  POLITICAL, HUH? I think trees are good And they should be saved But people need jobs And roads must be paved Animals have rights ‘Bout them we should care But I do not mind Steak, medium-rare Free markets can work Profits you don’t stem But banks improve if We regulate them Welcome immigrants And culture you gave But assimilate Don’t create enclaves You’re fine to worship Whatever you will Does not mean you can Force on me your pill Unions gave to us Fair pay, benefits But too much power It really corrupts Big business employs Gives people the work But pay fair tax shares Don’t avoid and shirk Education should Be affordable But teach real subjects Not psycho-babble There’s too many laws Police and courts rule But we need order To control us all Am I a right wing Businessman yuppie Maybe a left wing Tree-hugging hippy Stuck in the middle My mind I’m losing I hate politics It’s damn confusing! --------------------------------- Thank you one and all for making every one of the past 30 Days as delightful as this one. We're especially grateful to The StoryMaster  for giving us the green light to do this for a second wonderful year ! Warmest thanks, Gab This Poet's Proud Sponsor: Schnujo This delightful Poet: Steven |
| Great poem, Steven! Love it! Thank you Gabriella-Sail On Silver Girl for all your hard work and dedication to this project! It's been AWESOME! |
| With only 1 day left until the close of our 2nd Annual Parade of Poets, we're taking this time to recognize our 130 Sponsors, Poets, and Cheerleaders with handsome awards created by Lilli ☕  Meanwhile, take a few minutes to join PWheeler ~ love, joy and peace  who looked forward to introducing alf8collier and his beautiful, articulate poem.  WINTER'S WEARY WITHDRAWAL winter deigns acknowledgement as clouds wave greetings in semaphore signals of white cottoned ringlets, strands frayed by the dance of thermals as zephyrs tease in playful impishness and tug at the austerity of her costume she struggles to maintain dignity as her mantle of snow is seduced in tacit steps of reticence leaving dispossessed pearls to follow new strings in the infancy of re-birth beneath fairy-lights of new colour her regret spills riding a pebbled mattress her tears escape the grazed knuckles of her grasp sending chuckles of glee to surf the airwaves in whirling eddies of paradoxical whimsy myriad boulders parading in glistened coats of emerald moss stand sentinel, enduring the ticklish caresses of juvenile flow with a stoic expression of stiff upper lip as Winter’s pride erodes beneath a vanishing mantle of memory --------------------------------------------- Celebrating National Poetry Month This Poem's Proud Sponsor: PWheeler ~ love, joy and peace Talented Poet: alf8collier PS: Take a look at this grand list of Poets, Sponsors, and the Poem selected to be featured on the Newsfeed. Our remarkable Cheerleaders greeted, praised, and encouraged our featured Poets every day without fail. 
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| With only 2 days left until the close of our 2nd Annual Parade of Poets, we're taking this time to recognize our sponsors, poets and cheerleaders with handsome awards created by Lilli ☕  Meanwhile, let's join LinnAnn nano9 winner  who is pleased to introduce Jaiam and his nostalgic poem.  WILDFLOWERS! I remember all the times, you went Walking with me in a field of wildflowers, Beneath a sky of sapphire blue, and With the sunlight shining down upon us. And now, I regret my never telling you, All the things I’d always meant to. Believing you, already mine, I kept waiting for, the “right” time. I always thought that there’d be time, To go walking with you hand in hand, In that field, that seemed so far away, From all the pressures of those days. But, if I had known back then, We would soon be parted, For so many, many years, I’d have said, the things I should Have said, could have said, Always meant to say, and it might Have helped change - everything. Who though, can ever know, What their future really holds? Events which you can not control, Can conspire to divide you, and drive You, far from what it is, you really want! It seems, that is how it is, and has Always been, with love. And, that is how it was with us, as we went Our separate ways, chasing other dreams. We even tried to love again, but, What other love could compete, With a love that had grown so deep, We both missed it, more than anything. Both still needed it, more than anything. So, now after all these years, my love, We find ourselves back here, my love, In that same field, my love, with its wildflowers. Where, beneath a sky of sapphire blue, I, at last, am telling you, Things I think you’ve always known, but Should have been told – so very long ago! ---------------------------------------------------------- Celebrating National Poetry Month Proud Sponsor of this Poem: LinnAnn nano9 winner Poet: Jaiam |
| Each day, as we make our way through the last 6 days in April, we are increasingly grateful for our 30 Sponsors, 30 Poets, and those 70+ unsung heroes--our champion cheerleaders. Today, let's join ~Minja~  in welcoming Sharmelle Expressions  and her inquisitive Poem.  Where is the place of my dreams? Could it be the ocean beaches in Oregon? Where I can lay in the sun for a time for daydreams as I look at the lovely Guiana. Where could another place be of my dreams? Could it be Portland Head Lighthouse in Maine to watch the ocean while it gleams through the night of the spiritual plane? Which Ocean do I choose from? The Pacific where everything on the west side is beautiful and everything on the Atlantic of the east side which the beauty was plentiful. I think I’ll choose Maine on the eastside, I have never seen the Atlantic Ocean before and the Portland Head Lighthouse on that side looks more impressive to explore. --------------------------------------------------------------- Celebrating National Poetry Month Proud Sponsor: ~Minja~ Talented Poet: Sharmelle Olson |
| Sorry, it took me so long to get back to you. Good Afternoon Carol St. Ann, Thank you! Wow, that's nice to know. |
| Sorry, it took me so long to get back to you. Good Afternoon Cubby, Thank you for your kind words! With me, I have a fear of living to close to water because of flooding and the possibility of drowning because I do not know how to swim lol. But I do love lighthouses too. |
| Sorry, it took me so long to get back to you. Good Afternoon LynnPenCakes, Thank you for your kind words! Yes, that lighthouse looks so beautiful. That's why I chose that one lol. |
| With only 3 days left until the close of our 2nd Annual Parade of Poets, we are already looking back at this wonderful exhibition of poetry on display every day throughout the month. Today, let's join Thankful Jess  in welcoming LazyWriter  , one of W.Com's newest members from Leeds, England,  Longing of a Writer I'm shriveled up inside It's so difficult to find the energy to try hard Every empty promise to help with the story Makes me not want to trust anybody Is this story doing okay? Is this direction really the right way? When they hear you're a writer Everyone's all excited But no one wants to help you succeed Where do I find the help that I need? Please won't you help me? Won't you be a sounding board for me? Tell me if I have any place in this writing world Would anybody pick up the book of an Asian girl? ---------------------------------------------------------------- Celebrating National Poetry Month This Proud Sponsor: Thankful Jess Poet: LazyWriter |
| Each day, as we make our way to the close of April, we are increasingly grateful for our 30 Sponsors, 30 Poets, and those 70+ unsung heroes--our champion cheerleaders.  There is another unsung heroine who has donated a remarkable amount of time and talent to help the Parade of Poets put its best foot forward. Thank you, Lilli ☕ for sharing your kindness, capabilities, and support. Today, let's support Lonewolf  in welcoming Mastiff and his "Ode to Work".  ODE TO WORK The alarm goes off with a constant beep, I slap the snooze with savage aggression; The ten minute delay is not real sleep, Time for me to become a possession. In a drowsy state I do morning chores; It seems harder each day to get them done. Brushing? Dressing? I'll stay in the shower! I wait a good while to open my drawers, But pause too long you won't beat anyone. Getting there first gives you all the power. In general I'm first to get to the door, It gives me some time to gather my thoughts. Making the coffee is an easy chore, I'll pick the grind, and I'll also use lots! Deal with the public it's best to prepare; Part of my job is to hear them complain, My regret is just the tax on my time. There are streets, sewers, and parks that need care; With paperwork for jobs I must maintain. No overtime pay, late nights on my dime. Lest someone believe I don't love my work, No one who doesn't writes grants worth millions. It's simply that they won't hire me a clerk; For filing, phones, and help with civilians. Is it too much to ask to make this hire? I've asked repeatedly throughout the years; If put in the budget, I die from shock. But could it happen before I retire? Likely I die before someone appears. At least Fridays I can shut off that clock! -------------------------------------------------------- Celebrating National Poetry Month This Proud Sponsor: Lonewolf Talented Poet: Mastiff |
| Each day, as we make our way through the last 5 days in April, we are increasingly grateful for our 30 Sponsors, 30 Poets, and those 70+ unsung heroes--our champion cheerleaders. Today, let's join Jayne  in welcoming BEAR and his tribute to autumn.  Where the Winds of Autumn Take Me The wind turned southeast to northwest, once emerald green leaves now shimmer radiant, dancing down upon me. Early morning dew greets heavy, along with smells of last nights fire; embers barely glowing, as coffee awakes my tire. Awaiting short lived light; day’s journey quickened. Crisp air slapping face, this Autumn morning in Maine. The nut gatherers racing, up and down trees. Near grown fawns with mothers putting new winter coats on. A lumbering bear plump from summer forage; yawns and growls impatient, for a long rest needed. Where winds of autumn take me, to thoughts of years gone by. And all the summers' splendor, to winters' voice it cries. Hurry at stacking wood; for soon snow covers all. Storm windows secure; leaves piled high still fall. Picked the last green tomatoes, potatoes, peppers too. Canning the last few fruits, hard work paid its dues. Migration’s cloud out the sky, serenade with bugle calls. and drifting hawks of sorts, eyeing me from their view. My, my what a beautiful time, like each new seasons' own, my mind drifts far away, and I'm so close to home. Where winds of autumn take me, where winds of autumn go. ------------------------------- Celebrating National Poetry Month This Poet's Proud Sponsor: Jayne Poet: BEAR |
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Blessphemy = extreme religiosity bordering on the profane
Blabbergast = to surprise others with one's powers of speech
Sinsibility = the ability to ignore one's moral compass