It’s Carnival time again at Grown In My Heart, this time it’s all about poetry. You can participate by writing a blog post on the subject and clicking Mr Linky (that always sounds kinda dirty to me, like “Come sit on Mr. Linky’s lap, little girl.” ) right here.
OK, here we go….
The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy defines Vogon Poetry as such….
“Vogon poetry is the third worst in the Universe. The second worst is that of the Azgoths of Kria. During a recitation by their Poet Master Grunthos the Flatulent, of his poem, Ode to a Small Lump of Green Putty I Found in My Armpit One Midsummer Morning, four of his audience members died of internal hemorrhaging, and the president of the Mid-Galactic Arts Nobbling Council, survived by gnawing one of his own legs off… The very worst poetry in the universe died along with its creator, Paula Nancy Millstone Jennings of Sussex… in the destruction of the planet Earth.”
Though very little of Mrs. Jennings poetry survives, I am certain that she was must have had some connection to adoption. There could be no other way The Guide would have granted her the distinction of worst poet in the universe.
Adoption brings out the most evil of muses. That muse that would tempt one to compare not just body parts but bodily functions with the act of filling out paper work. To entice one to draw parallels between celestial occurrences and bureaucracy. Between one’s arms and a dumpster.
It is almost impossible not to fall into the many traps that lay in wait for the aspiring adoption poet. The more passionate the writer, the more dangerous the pitfalls. The state of mind responsible for one poet to rhyme ‘orphanage’ with ‘mother’s gaze’ is nearly unimaginable.
If for any reason you are tempted to pen a poem about adoption, first call a trusted friend, or seek the support of family or clergy. You don’t have to be responsible this. Help is available.