Day 18 ... NaPoWriMo / Poem-a-Day 2026 / Stafford 92

Howdy, friends! My poem today is #92 in this year's Stafford Challenge (and #457, including the poem count from last year's Stafford Challenge). Maureen Thorson’s NaPoWriMo prompt: “Today, we don’t challenge you to write all of a long, dramatic, narrative poem, but we invite you to try your hand at writing a poem that could be a section or piece of one . . . with the plot of an opera.” Robert Lee Brewer’s Poem-a-Day suggestion: “For today's prompt, write a reconsideration poem.” Again, combining the prompts. My list of roles reconsidered is pretty true, though not necessarily in the order given. Reconsideration Opera             —curtal sonnet At five, I wanted to be a pirate. It was the eyepatch. But no, seasickness. Then I decided to be a spaceman. It was the jetpack. I reconsidered — spooky vacuum, pesky G-forces. I thought maybe a cowboy, a horseman, but when I saw a real horse — scary! Viking, scientist, and then guitarist ultimately when the Beatles came in. And now the bass. Till the Viking lady                     sings, the bass I’ll play on. —Draft by Vince Gotera    [Do not copy or quote . . . thanks.] Today, Alan is also working with both prompts: a reconsideration of a certain translation of Beowulf. In Which I Insert a Vital Explanation for a Logical Omission in the Feast of Heorot Scene in Beowulf as Translated by Seamus Heaney                             The truth is clear: Almighty God rules over mankind and always has.                             And yet the mystery persists, how could a monster loathsome as the grave, pungent as the slaughterhouse, evade the guards to set himself among the weary warriors, and not be smelled? Spear-brothers lay as thick as kenneled puppies, snug and warm of bellies full, their guts protruding, gaseous gale of pork and ale expressed through windpipes’ belches, God-directed, or, more likely, tunneling through hell-path guts with sulfurous expulsion, one’s nearby kinsman sleepsealed of eyelid, saved from blindness, others, snoring mouth agape, to dream of Alison and think themselves in the wrong tale, one, too near the hearth, igniting farts that singed the fair flank fur from Pussgar, Hrothgar’s favored mouser, troubled dreams of demons, fires, and pitch which Christ alone could overcome.                             Then out of the night came the shadow-stalker, stealthy and swift. —Draft by Thomas Alan Holmes    [Do not copy or quote . . . thanks.] An illustration of Grendel, the monster from Beowulf, by J R. Skelton (source) Beautifully done, Alan. Wonderful language. Thanks for coming by the blog today. I've been at a poetry festival — Poetry Palooza — for the last couple days so I'm posting this quite late. See you again tomorrow? Friends, won’t you comment, please? Love to know what you’re thinking. Thanks! Ingat, everyone.  ヅ

Limeritrature!

On Facebook, there is a group titled "Converting the whole canon of English Literature into Limericks" where people contribute limericks that summarize and lampoon great works of literature. For example, one might write a limerick to "replace" Dostoevsky's War and Peace or Mary Shelley's Frankenstein or, for that matter, the Bible.

The first word in the group description is "Limeritrature!" And, I tell ya, limeritrature can be a whole lot of fun. Here's a limerick I wrote for the group on Beowulf . . . or, more specifically, the 2007 performance-capture movie that starred several A-list actors, including Anthony Hopkins and Angelina Jolie.

Beowulf As revised by Neil Gaiman and Robert Zemeckis Hróthgar’s mead háll was all héll-y, So Béowulf ripped árm off Grendélly, Then swéetly did dálly With Jólie (Angélly), And Drágon from ský went pell-méll-y. — Vince Gotera

Okay, it's cheesy. And the accent marks might be cheating, though remember how Gerard Manley Hopkins used accent marks. Evidently, writing humor isn't my strong suit, except for slapstick, maybe, and that would still be a stretch.

In any case, check out the Facebook group. There are many much smarter and funnier limericks there that I couldn't quote without having to go to a lot of trouble securing permission, etc. Sorry. Do browse the group. You'll be amazed at how much wit and amusement can be crammed into five lines of verse. And write a limerick yourself!