Past

Spiraling Sapphire Sacrilege

Cascading Cobalt Coward

Agonized Azure Ambivert

Peter piper picked a peck of pickled peppers, the peck of pickled peppers peter piper picked were putrid, why would peter piper pickle peppers on the plant to pick prepickled while unpicked.

Damn I did good even if it isnt quite perfect, my first attempt too.

Yeah he said that the ballot box tried to eat his hand.

the boyfriend doesnt believe me about my past alliteration kink guys i swear on alex brightmans life this was real

I wish I had someone I trusted to talk to

Beholden my Personally Penned Pile of Pernicious Purple People:

Blog Post # 5 Music and Rhythm

I was born with severe to profound hearing loss. Hearing aids help tremendously but everything I hear is filtered through an electronic device. I may miss some of the layers of instrumentation in music or chunks of conversation especially in noisy settings. Is that why I’ve always been drawn to the written word? It’s knowable; I don’t have to look for context clues on faces that may or may not be turned away or hidden by a hand. Everything is on the page. The music is in the consonants, the vowels, the lines—long or choppy. I do not worry that I have missed some subtle oboe in the margins of the symphony. I can see the staccato in alliteration with plosives or the whispering slide of sibilants. In “Teacher of the Year,” David Kirby makes those sibilants giggle as he pairs them with capitalization and repetition when describing illicit sex in a professor’s office. Our words create lyrical passages, marches or dirges or lullabies, symphonies, and aubades. The words on the pages are music. They are rhythm.

Whither: #NaHaiWriMo

© C A Lovegrove.

whether the weather goes hither or yon, it will go whither it will

26/28 #DailyHaiku for National Haiku Writing Month

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Peter’s Peppered Pickle Porridge perhaps preceded Petar’s Pickled Pepper Pasta

Nostalgia and Wit: A Writer’s Journey

neath a willow tree

wishing for wistful moments

my wit off-kilter

words in dribs and drabs

bare their soul on blank pages

a comical crises indeed

may my muse be mindful

of my conniving creativity

as we journey to the Biltmore Estate

in my 1974 GTO

This Week’s Writer’s Workshop Prompts – February 17, 2026

Here are the prompts for this week’s Writer’s Workshop:

Write a post based on the…

Nostalgia and Wit: A Writer’s Journey

I’m sick and saed, sigh

the dream is to be camping and step to the side to pop open my pants pull out my penis and piss on a pine

NEW POEM!
Hope I’m not writing about myself here — “Wallowing in Mediocre Obscurity”.
Over on BlueSky, I saw the prompt #unpopular and it just SCREAMED for me to do an alliterative piece.

Wallowing in Mediocre Obscurity

By Richard H. Fay

Unappreciated poems
By an unpopular poet
Go unread and unheard
By the general public.

Unseen creations
By an unsung creator
Go unnoticed and unvalued
By the literate crowd.

Unimportant rhymes
By an uninspired rhymer
Go unremarked and uncelebrated
By the bourgeois rabble.

Unexceptional works
By an undistinguished wordsmith
Go unrecognized and unremembered
By an uncaring world.

its five million pounds of penne time

ssssss…..

—–snakes slither silently, stupid!

i claim to not be as interested in tacomic than before. don’t look at my reblogs

The golden goose?

Ok.

What about the silver goose?

Or the bronze goose?

…

What am I even on about?

Quirky Bill – World’s Weirdest Wickedest Weasel 

#Humor #Humorous #Funny #QuirkyBill

Uh-oh, V, watch out! It looks like there is a new alliteration expert in town, and he is serious about exposing the truth about a lot of things, beginning with this!

😂 😆 😀 🤣

For someone obsessed with having straight A’s in school, I really grew up to be a bisexual bunny brat who likes to bitch, bite, bottom and go brainless.

My poem Silver Sea