Divorce Bard's Blog

...Iambic pentameter is for the ear. Read it out loud.

Divorce Bard

Divorce Bard
Location
pretty how town, USA
Birthday
February 13
Bio
While the ashes of marriage #2 were cooling, I began a journal here in verse, to keep myself out of trouble. So far so good, and one day at a time. I took a hiatus this past January, and I missed it terribly. Writing daily had changed the way I think - not my opinions, but the process of thinking itself. So here I am back again, and hungry. I began with three rules: (1) Iambic pentameter, (2) Perfect rhyme, and (3) It had to be true (no hyperbole). I hereby amend rule number 3: If I'm writing about myself, yes, it has to be true. But it doesn't, if I want to tell a story.

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MAY 16, 2010 9:51PM

Late. Sunday May 16, 2010

Rate: 16 Flag

So many nights I've put the kids to bed,
They've put on their pajamas, brushed their teeth,
And snuggled up to get their stories read,
Just poking out their faces, underneath
Their comforters, when... Lo, I Hear It Come.
The sun is gone, the weather's cooling down,
I've no idea where it's starting from:
A block away; the other side of town;
But soon it passes just beyond the door,
Incredibly, just finishing its route,
And hoping it can lure just one child more,
With I'm a little teapot short and stout.
It's unmistakable: The Ice Cream Truck.
At bedtime.  On a school night.  What the ----.

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Case for self-defense, I think, db.
I feel your pain Bard.
This is like a "choose your own adventure" book, as a poem.

Hmmmm. How will I finish this one? ......
The sound of the ice cream truck triggers a PTSD response in my 3 year old. It all started after we ran around the neighborhood chasing the ice cream truck and never did catch it.

I really wanted that drumstick.

On the upshot, when he hears the ice cream truck now he gets teary and says, "I don't want any ice cream."
DB. What a predicament. Your poem made me recall the scurrying when my kids heard the ice cream truck.

@Cyndi. There must be some sort of rehabilitation program available for your three-year old. I can't bear the thought of him growing up with a dislike of, or disdain for, an ice cream truck. (I almost said distaste for the ice cream truck -- but that would be a pun wouldn't it?)
There ought to be a law against that. Now about that last line?
An absolutely diabolical driver. I would have said the word, it would have just popped out of my mouth. Great post!
OK, that is hilarious. Kudos to you for NOT saying that in front of the kids!
Just when you think you have everything sorted, .... Loved this!
Perfect with coffee. I love it when you break mold.
Great Poem Bard, almost~
Hi all. I got busy again, and was unable to respond to any comments till tonight. Thanks to all of you for reading, and commenting. I've got to catch up here, and with the next one, then write the next one...

so thanks c&v, Kim, ron, rita, Pilgrim, Cyndi (hey! welcome!), dlv, trilogy, zul, ladyslipper, froggy (hey! another new one!), anna1, scupper and scanner.

Best'r'you.
I am so happy you linked this. I missed it the first time around.
wonderful poem, I can see it coming down the street.
rated with love
I laughed at loud at this.
And seriously, that's hard for me to do.