The cheese is growing
a respectable green beard.
Fridge must be broken.
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Bartholomew Barker, Poet 
I hope the green beard has stopped growing …
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Not yet. Still waiting on maintenance.
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I got such a laugh out of that Bart!!!!
Thank you.
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You’re very welcome, Mary. Thanks for reading.
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It was light reading. About all l I can handle this time of night. (I see where your canine friend gets it from) Starting an open mic out here with some friends, and we went to a great one tonight. So let me know if you ever come out this way and feel the need to spill. I don’t know if there are any poetic grave sites here, I know where Boot Hill is though. Bosque del Apache. White Sands. Los Alamos.
On Fri, Sep 2, 2022 at 7:25 PM Bartholomew Barker, Poet < comment-reply@wordpress.com> wrote:
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Thanks! I always enjoy performing at open mics while I’m traveling. I’ll let you know the next time I’m in your desert.
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We found a potato in the back of the cupboard which had gone shrivelled and sprouted a ‘top knot’. We called her Spudulika and left her by our neighbours door – to have a visit.
Some years ago Mike was harvesting the spuds when he dug up a potato which looked exactly like a little pair of bollocks! It was one potato, but had divided and formed in such a way as to be the shape of…..bollocks! So I put it in a box and sent it to me old mate, Philip, who I knew would appreciate the humour, with a piece of paper with one word on it – ‘Bollocks!’.
Time passed and some months later the box arrived back. I opened it to find that…the bollocks had each produced a little sprout on the end and Philip had enclosed a piece of paper with one word on it ‘Knockers!’
This became The Tale of the Bollock-Knockers which I sent, with the evidence, to friend Marie who being a thrifty Northern sort, planted it in the hope of getting some edible spuds. Not that the bollock/knockers weren’t edible, but – well – we didn’t like to!
Fun with Food.
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No sooner said…than done…. I’ve added amorous carrots…..http://www.spanglefish.com/berniesblog/blog.asp?msg=Entry%20Added
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Once had a hunk of cheese grow a mold in the shape of the Virgin Mary. Thank God for Pareidolia.
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I had to look up pareidolia – I have a terrible tendency to it. I see images in patterns – terriers in the curtains, aliens in the wood knots in the side of the bath, a bear in the side of the wardrobe door……thankfully, I am a rational being and don’t freak out about it.
Not always reasonable – but mostly rational.
Right then – word challenge – poem containing the word pareidolia – or are you already working on it?
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I just did a search and haven’t used “Pareidolia” in any of my poetry yet. I’ll get right on it.
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Well, as long as the beard is respectable, everything should work out.
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Yeah, I’m not worried about an uprising.
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Mike had a go…..
‘There was an old man in a foyer
Who suffered acute pareidolia
The grain of the door
Had the face of a whore
Now his wife’s looking out for
A lawyer.’
Assonance – when it doesn’t really rhyme.
I’ll stop now
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Nice work, Mike!
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Hmmm – not so much a poem, as a Limerick.
I said I’d stop – I lied.
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Limericks count as poems, barely.
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He did another one….
‘A man from Outer Mongolia
Has visions that couldn’t be holier
The things that he sees
In the mould on his cheese….
Or is it just pareidolia?’
And then there’s melancholia…..oh dear, best not go there – the visions produced by melancholia!
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