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You know, I love Poetry Friday. I really, really do. You can post your own poetry--say, about spring, or about (hellish) winter, or about graduation--or you can just post a picture of your cat and link it tangentially to a Poetry Friday book review.*

Today I review a rhyming picture book over at Book Buds for Poetry Friday. The book in question is the utterly fun Someday When My Cat Can Talk, by Caroline Lazo and illustrated by Kyrsten Brooker. In Someday When My Cat Can Talk, the little girl protagonist imagines what her cat would say if he could talk. And, guess what? He takes a witty trip around Europe and has great things to say. Check out this fabulous stanza, which is my Poetry Friday entry:


He'll speak fondly of the snail he met
while camping out near Cannes.
And he'll whisper why she's hiding
from the chef at Cafe Sands.

Oh, snap! That's one smart cat. (And one smart picture book.)

My cat, however, pictured above, is a different sort of animal. I imagine his thought process as follows: Paper! R-i-i-i-i-p! [Blank] What's that sound? Food? [Blank] What's that sound? Food? Food? Food? [Blank] [Blank] [Blank] [Blank] R-i-i-i-i-p!

And, yeah, that's pretty much it for poor Norbert. He's a book killing, pear-shaped, dim witted, sweetheart of a cat. We love him, but he is not the sharpest knife in the drawer.

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* Speaking of original poetry...can I just say that I am getting several hits per day from people searching for "pedicure poems"? I'm honestly truly shocked by this.

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Also, did you know it's Vampire month? I'll be back in a few hours with a Vampire graphic novel review!
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Writer2be is on the roundup. Head on over and leave your links!

Last week’s column focused on the havoc that automated spellcheckers can wreak when a suggested “correction” turns out to be utterly wrong. More often, though, people who over-rely on spellcheckers can run into trouble when a misspelling is actually a legitimate word and therefore isn’t flagged as an error. There’s a well-circulated bit of verse (with variations going back to 1992) poking fun at people’s tendency to ignore mistakes that spellcheckers miss:

Eye halve a spelling chequer,
It came with my Pea Sea.
It plane lee marks four my revue
Miss steaks I can knot sea.
Eye ran this poem threw it,
Your shore real glad two no.
Its vary polished in it’s weigh.
My chequer tolled me sew.

(more…)

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