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I just finished laying out a little book of my own poetry: “Thigh-ku”
I think I invented this form of verse, although I did find one other reference to the word when I searched the term on the web. (Damned interweb!) Even if I wasn’t the first person in the world to think of the word, I do think I’m the first to have elevated thigh-ku art to the level it so richly deserves.
Here is a slideshow of “Thigh-ku!” the booklet, which makes a beautiful gift for any occasion, and at 4.25″ x 5″ its 24 pages of inspiring goodness fit handily in a greeting card envelope. (If you want to buy one, check out my Etsy page or if you happen to want to carry my booklet in your pricey big-thigh-themed boutique, comment and I’ll get back to you about bulk (no pun intended) prices.)
If you’re inspired to share your own Thigh-ku, feel free to comment here, or visit the Montana Doggerel Society Thigh-ku blog, thigh-ku.blogspot.com.
Thigh-maste!
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magnetic poem, circa 2009
I knew this one was doomed from the start, but I mucked on. I had actually intended for the lady ranger to look stiff and awkward, but it just looks like bad drawing. I guess parts of the tree are okay, though. Hmmm. I hope I learned something.
She Kissed Him Like a Lady Ranger
Magnetic Poem, circa 2008
He Called Her Timbuktu and Petted Her Tongue
magnetic poem, circa 2008
I believe this poem was written by my indoorsy daughter, as a wry expression of her lack of interest in going hiking with me. I don’t agree with her, but I can sympathize.
Nature Itself is a Wild Bore
magnetic poem, circa 2008
You’d feel guilty too, if your painstakingly arranged bouquet of duck feet got all wilty.
Guilty Aching Bouquet
magnetic poem, circa 2008
Return of the dawn of the cattle marker magnetic poetry illustration blog!
This was always one of my favorite fridge poems, but I never put much effort into visualizing it. My vague interpretation of it was a bit more carefree, but when it came to actually drawing something, I found it difficult to nail down that “Whoopsie! …doggone eye popped out again!” feeling while maintaining a “milk breath happy” mood. I’m really not much of a gore person, so imagine my surprise when the zombies appeared.
Even as I was drawing it, I was thinking, “Ewww! Why am I drawing this?” It started as a romantic zombie evening gone embarrassingly awry, but then I settled on the birthday setting. Only now am I realizing that some ominous balloons in the background might have been a nice touch. But is perfecting a zombie birthday party cattle marker drawing really that important?
Milk Breath, Happy Sigh, Love, Help; Get my Eye
Fun fact! As far as I know, this is the only poem to appear on our refrigerator that had rhyme and meter.
I had to leave off on my cattle marker project for a week to attend the Walk to Defeat ALS in Portland Oregon, so I decided to post a different kind of poem today, sans illustration. But after reading this one, you’ll probably be relieved that I didn’t illustrate it. The mental image alone is plenty.
A few years ago I had the brainstorm of combining my love of poetry and carbohydrates and the result was thigh-ku. My first thigh-ku was:
dimpled like dumplings
they speak of human frailty
and carbohydrates
To read more Thigh-ku or post yours, visit the Montana Doggerel Society.
Magnetic Poem, circa 2008
Desperate Quivering Leather Couch
Magnetic Poem, circa 2009
One thing about doing a thing-a-day or thing-a-week project is that sometimes you end up with stuff that’s just kind of weird. (Just ask Jonathan Coulton.) Or, if you need more evidence, I offer today’s cattle marker drawing.
Even though I sort of hate today’s drawing there are parts of it that I like. I really like the guy’s shoes. (And I put a kitty in!) The creepy green lady must have sprouted out of my subconscious, possibly as a result of watching “Spiderman III” and “Glen or Glenda” in the same sitting.
I prefer the cropped version (below) but I’m no thing-a-day cheater (well, except for skipping days occasionally and taking three day weekends off) so here are both versions: the weird one, and the “good parts” version.
Sweet Love Cried Out to Him, She Made Sure.
Magnetic poem, circa 2008
Let's Play Plague
