Big Tent Poetry left instructions for its minions to choose a letter from the alphabet, make a short list of words starting with one's letter of choice, mull it over for a few moments (or days, as the case may be), choose one word which moves the mind (and creative spirit) and then write a mini-manuscript with it. (Like the alliteration, eh?)
Naturally, my muse said, "Hey there - why don't you mosey on over to Worthless Word for the Day. They have many marvelous morsels to choose from." My muse was, of course, right. I meandered over there and found myriad words (I would also say a 'plethora' but that's a 'P' word and therefore, just not apropos here) just waiting to be molded into a poem by me.
Anyway, being the type of person who will always use several (of anything) where merely one will do, I penned a couple of poems which I'm now posting here in addition to the 'M' poem 'Misodoctakleidist' which I posted earlier this week. The first poem is a Nasher trying desperately to be a Sonnet. The second is a Terza Rima.
There is a word that is not terribly complimentary
since it describes work which contains a sly fictitious entry.
What that means is, it’s something which is placed in reference material, like an encyclopedia or a map
and is often considered nothing short of a copyright trap.
How it got started is often categorized as a bit of a fluke
with the intention of giving the user a rebuke.
It was named for the character of Lillian Virginia Mountweazel, a ‘fountain designer turned photographer who never existed’ and therefore, is spurious,
and when publishers and editors find such things inserted into manuscripts, the results (career-wise, at least, for authors and researchers) can be injurious.
Sometimes called Nihilartikels, these Mountweazels can be used as April Fools’ pranks,
but if you’re the one committing these falsehoods, don’t expect any thanks.
Examples abound, like…a professor at the University of Heidelberg who wrote about an entirely fictitious mammalian order called Rhinogradentia,
and if you check Wikipedia, you can see that it is merely made-up, false scientia.
In closing, you might want to consider this a warning if you decide to write a tome of work including a Mountweazel or Nihilartikel,
because you might find yourself ending up on the losing side of a literary pickle.
(* The word, Mountweazel, per Worthless Word for the Day, means ‘after Lillian Virginia Mountweazel, a fountain designer turned photographer who never existed, a bogus entry purposely inserted into a reference work: a copyright trap’ – also, Scientia, per Wordnik and other dictionaries (Mountweazels not withstanding) is Latin for knowledge, science and skill, will deal with lifestyle and transactional data, analysis and research.)
Does the AM put you in a mòód?
Do you wake up feeling fractious?
Should the early hours be eschewed?
Is awakening detractious:
one side more than the other side,
or is that just being factious?
There are those who say, “Woe, betide
folks who roll to the other side.”
Cranky might be the term applied.
On getting up, you must decide:
Will you be Jekyll…or be Hyde?
(* The word, Matutolypea, per Worthless Word for the Day, means ‘waking up on the wrong side of the bed.’)