NaPoWriMo 2.13: Upmarket Sunday Kennings

Upmarket Sunday. Nom nom nom.

Today’s challenge: to write something with the Old Norse tradition of kennings. These are a kind of compound-noun, which evoke a particular thing, ie. “Whale-Road” for “Ocean”. (I’ve also head them done with a noun and verb – “Bin-Diver” – but not mentioning the name of the thing itself.)

As we went to the market in Huddersfield today for Upmarket Sunday – and had a very nice time talking about delicious things, trying delicious things and buying too many delicious things – I thought I’d evoke some of what we acquired, or saw, through kennings…

 

Upmarket Sunday Kennings

 

Buzz jar.

Pastry oink.

Moo smoothness.

 

Apple fuddle.

Tiger stamp.

Spirits Sherpa.

 

Oat oracle.

Mother pulse.

Allspice elder.

 

Woof weave.

Chick covers.

Podge pleasure.

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NaPoWriMo 7: The Pies of Awareness

The Pies of Awareness may or may not come from Gregg’s (who feature, by the way, as a Classical Allusion in another poem of mine by a pigeon)

Quickfire blog entries!

The prompt for NaPoWriMo Day 7 was to write a poem consisting solely of a series of declarative statements, with one question at the end.

So, based on some conversations I’ve had recently, here it is – the explanation is kind of involved, so I’ll let you draw your own conclusions.

(By the way, days 8 and 9 – the eight-line verse form and the noir-inspired poem – will both be coming tomorrow! But  recently wrote a piece – Little Shadows – which uses a noir-inspired image to explore how bees see…So that can keep you going for now!)

You can listen to me reading The Pies of Awareness on SoundCloud, too, which may (or may not) add something to it:

 

The Pies of Awareness

or, I Don’t Know Anything

 

This is my shop and these are my pies.

Each has a price and some have a filling.

Don’t ask me what’s in them; I’ll tell you no lies.

Some cost a fortune and some cost a shilling.

 

This is my shop and these are my pies.

Many are deadly, but they all look the same:

Be advised that most are just space in disguise.

Enjoy it: the guessing is part of the game.

 

This is my shop and this is your pie.

I’ve taken the time to bake death in the crust.

You can’t have a receipt. You can’t leave in disgust.

For 20p I’ll heat it up, if you’re sure you’d like to try?