iCard Poetry

100 POETIC iCARDS

Greetings

This page is dedicated to digital postcards that I created back in the day when Apple still offered a variety of online services connected to.Mac: iCards being one of those. ‘Among the various casualties from the. Mac to MobileMe Switch was the loss of iCards, a simple online greeting card feature of .Mac that let users select a topical card for various occasions to customize and e-mail to a friend. iCards made up one of the features that Apple retired when MobileMe assumed the throne, even though they weren’t restricted to .Mac subscribers’. 

During a critical time in my life when I was unemployed and transition from Los Angeles to Colorado, I spent roughly 9 months writing poetry which became a manuscript of approximately 175 poems. I called the collection: ‘How I Spent My Nervous Breakdown’ (HISMNB). The writing of these poems took place daily, longhand in pencil, and with final drafts being ‘typed’ afterward. The whole process was quite therapeutic, and I was indeed experiencing a breakdown of sorts, but this creative process, along with guitar, swimming, cooking, and resting stabilized my emotional derailment (also of sorts). 

In the collection: HISMNB, the poems are of different lengths, some long, some short, but mostly vignettes that were to the point. Many were quirky, many somewhat confessional. There was quite a bit of silliness, but also some deep reflective distillations of what I was experiencing at the time. Los Angeles was in a state of racial upheaval due to the Watts riots and the incident with the beating of Rodney King (caught on film). All of this was going on in the background during my personal catharsis. 

What I like about the iCard format was that is was small: offering half of the the card for an image and the other half for text (limited to a small number of characters). There also was a cool postmark that was dated and indicated that the card was posted in Cupertino, CA which is the home of Apple. Having completed the manuscript of How I Spent My Nervous Breakdown (which is available in a custom format should one be interested), I began creating a collection of iCards for the next 2 or so years. The artwork provided by Apple for the digital postcards really sucked. But there was an option to fly in your own artwork which I did. Also, the space provided on the right side of the card (which was a tad bit smaller than the left side of the card which contained the image) could accommodate about 60 words at the most (contingent on font selection).

I liked this challenge, as many of the poems from HISMNB were considerably longer, and this gave me an opportunity to distill the original poems and get right to the point. Both versions, however: the original and the edited have merit. Among the iCards, there is a small group that was distilled from a collection of poems called: ‘Poetry My Ass’ which I wrote specifically for my late sister-in-law who had cancer; and I was sending her in addition to the whole body of works these additional silly iCards that had a variety of images of donkeys accompanied by ridiculous commentaries meant to cheer her up. 

If you resonate with the enclosed iCards please feel free to copy them. If you are interested in the original manuscript, feel free to contact me and I will create a customized manuscript for you. Think Charles Bukowski meets Dr. Seuss, with a bit of Ogden Nash thrown in and you’ll get the idea. rP

Some of the various signatures:

 How I Spent My Nervous Breakdown 

Poetry My Ass

From The Desk of Dick Prickoff

nYRd

rP Yingity Yangity 


Dweller and Room


sawing wood


disillusionment


addiction


golden guru


work of forgotten men


endless summer


i make no claim


day after tomorrow


coming of age


change


and i can sing!!


consumed


Mello-phant


No Man’s An Island


be still


One Night Only


happy hour


Blue Guitar


in my mind


¡whirred!


blind man


Crow


eight directions


rubberduckie


empty galleries


Extraordinary Man


facing


fear’s motherlode


first the pudding


Flamingos


Tavern Door


Fractions


Frosty Must Die


Gonzalez


hokie pokie


I Go Bye Bye Now


impulse item


lederhosen


Maharishi


make it so


mapmakers


mobius


Mr. Bigalow


my liege


Nanking


night rain


not do i prefer


oxymorons


Point to Point


prospect


Ram and Babe


restful is the merging of the day


ring it


rush hour


Sensei


shades


speckled hen


Shut the Fuck Up (Won’t You Now?)


standingovation


states


strapped on


stroke of one


swept away


swinging doors


Take This Coat!


tendriled


test drive


the song of gulls


they nod


this and that


tickets


to own a shadow


Vow


wax and wane


we 5 men


wet horizon


What is the Sound?


what say yee?


what’s that dear?


when my ship comes in


Whence & Wither


Wooden Man


word!


Yes! Mr. Peikoff


yesh sahib, yes


yon & hither


coconut

when my fears arise, on any given day,

i feel the rush of anxiety;

and breaking with propriety,

aye aye! withdraw from society.

all because of anxiety..

anxiety, anxiety.

when i was young i yelled a lot.

i cried a lot, and i ran a lot.

but i also played the guitar a lot.

guitar a lot, guitar a lot.

now i’m older, i’ve aged somewhat 🙂

i no longer yell, but i cry, so what!

i’m ‘running’, ‘still’, and i’m still a nut:

a betel nut, a hickory nut,

a buffalo nut, a coconut.

but i still play guitar, play guitar a lot.

this helps with my sobriety;

and also my anxiety!

and sometimes for variety…

i rhyme a lot, i rhyme a lot!

after all it’s not a crime a lot,

in fact it’s quite sublime a lot…

to rhyme a lot, to rhyme a lot!!

i put the lime in the coconut,

and drank ’em both together,

i drank ’em both up,

Woo Woo i feel better!


POETRY MY ASS  COLLECTION : Silly Poems Sent to My Dear Sister-in-Law While in Hospice Care

(In Memory of Dee (Posner) Zenith: ICUCharge R.N. @ St. John’s, Santa Monica, CA :: Dedicated 47 Years)


An Ass and a Half


My Ass is Part Irish


Ass Freche


4 Asses


My Little Ass


1st Class Ass


Grande Sombrero


Fernando


Your Face, My Ass!


Fin

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