A folder for my writing August 2017 & July 2016 |
Pome, Rather Than Poem A Peek at GoT the region is rocky with storms and marsh and do not think the forests aren't harsh ask if you don’t believe me the guy slave, Charlie the one who chucks chuckles, 'en garde!' on the review spree then Kittee hauls buckets as a carrier but buckles as too many eager beavers bite their knuckles at the Crownlands is the iron throne where reigns the Realm’s keeper with whom my hubby will pick a bone By Anonymous People may not be aware of this, but Anonymous sent me the above poem. I don’t know if that thing could be called a poem. A pome would be a better title for what Anonymous did, for from pomes, one can only bake a fruitcake with a few additions of nuts. Inside this “pome” is a stream of information with manufactured scarcity. To begin with, the structure limits the total number of the aides to the Keeper of the Realm. As the universe has decreed, there are many other hard-working helpers out there on the G.o.T land. Then, each quatrain in the “pome” is a block that only points to its writer as a blockhead. This holds true since the writer of the “pome” would flunk at cryptography because she--I believe Anonymous is a she, no offense, ladies! Don’t march against me!—cannot maintain her integrity even on the blockhead chain. For the best way to show one’s incompetence in handling the game this “pome” is referring to is to claim a built-in difficulty setting. This has already been done by the Keeper of the Realm who is an ingenious gameplay mechanic. Her wheelings and dealings are so complicated that the gamers who are used to drive their cars on straight roads end up parking them on rooftops. One good thing is the fact that producing terrible material is all-encompassing, be it for car-drivers or writers of “pomes.” In addition, because the wires that connect eyes, brain, and fingers become chewed by the invisible rats of strategy or better said, age, one can’t say that the writer of the “pome” has accomplished too many gaming feats. As has been pointed out earlier in this article, this fact has to do with a fruitcake and blockhead. Still, the writer solved the riddle of how to dare invite, single-handedly, entire squads in a deathmatch. In that, one could argue that there’s no skill required. ================ Prompt: Anonymous has sent in a poem to you directly - what that poem is, is up to you - and asks you to share that poem and your speculation of it in your next article. |