Mining Green

Succulent. Ripe. But, is it not green?
A berry plucked when thought unseen
Finger now a globulous mess
Lumpy and sticky and tough to confess.

A graveyard search for an unseemly prize
Furtive, guilty glances knife from his eyes
Undersides of tables, of desks and of chairs
Draws forth the finger, if only he dares

Strong bonded glue to harden and dry
Nestled in secret, no view of the sky
Finger, rolled clean of despicable remains
Slithers back, more treasure the cavern contains

Satisfying connection to the next chunk of clay
Skilled finger adept, at work and at play
Mined well and prized like well refined sugar
A finger-filled trophy, the well-rounded booger.

Mining Green , aside from being the title to this poem, is a two word phrase I'd been attempting to work into a piece of writing for years. Every time I used it, people told be it was too 'over the top' or 'too gross' or 'too immature'. One day, Jeff (a fellow Rogues Gallery Writer member) suggested I simply write a poem around the quaint little phrase.

I decided this could be a pretty cool endeavor, so I set out to reveal the booger in all its poetic glory. Sometimes story ideas just sort of pop up out of the blue, why not poetic ideas. I'm sure someone, somewhere has regaled the booger, but I have not read their work.

I wanted this poem to rhyme because I believe that adds to the humor of the piece. Rhyming sugar and booger was a lot of fun as well. How many times can one say they rhymed THOSE two words. Probably a lot more than I can imagine, but again, I've not seen it done.

Isn't that one of the enjoyable aspects of rhyming poetry? Finding those words that do not necessarily go together and making them fit nicely within a theme? I tend to write non-rhyming poetry because I feel I can get more emotional mileage out of the poem. When I do rhyme, I want it to be crafted, not forced.

While I have read a little poetry, I've never immersed myself in it like one day I'm sure to do. I also do not care for the rigidity of all the formulaic poetry. I've written some haiku, a sonnet or two, a nonet and a few others. I understand rhythm - iambic pentameter and the like. I prefer to write to the beat of a different pen and structure my poetry as it exits my heart rather than conform it to set rules once it comes out.

Having said that, I do enjoy the structured poems when I'm in the mood. Since my last poem was such a downer, I wanted to pay homage to humor in poetry. I trekked back to grade school and the undersides of our school desks for one of the images. They weren't so gross once they dried out... I attempted to capture the essence of the 'booger mindset'. Hopefully, once you get past the goo, you will find this poem placed a smile on your face