Sunday, October 30, 2011

Poetry Picnic Week 11-Halloween Special

-->                                                              It's Sunday Again, 
  Time 2 Party with Your Friend,
  Let's Make Poetry Rhyme,
Yep, Since It's P-O-E-T-R-Y P-I-C-N-I-C Time!


Welcome to Jingle Poetry at The Gooseberry Garden Poetry Picnic Week 11, it is TIME to enjoy some poetry in haunted and creepy manners, that’s right, because it is Halloween Time!!  
This is  Morning welcoming You  to the end of October Poetry Picnic Party Here!

Upon reading some spooky piece from your peers, please let your dark muses rise,  write and share your poetry talent with us, remember, anything haunting, dark, orange color related, or autumn related are WELCOME  here!



Delightfully drawn to the night, to the day.
Like a flicker of flame.
Curiosity rules my brain, searching.
For what I know not. Oh but that’s part of life’s fun.
Treat or Trick. Trick or treat.
Trying to find a favorite candy.
Problem is: tastes change. So the search rages.
Looking for that flicker, the spark to go on.
Find direction. Such heady things.
Find purpose. Such needy things.
Life is full of this. Tricks. Treats. Flicker. Spark.

Happy Face for Halloween

I wear a happy face
for that is how
I want to look;
no costumes
no extra make up
just a happy face
to keep me going
through this trying time
the one that hides all smile.
I wear a happy face
call it my costume
or even my make up
for that’s who I want to be
on this day
that brings back memories
refreshes loss and pain
and let tears flow.
T’was this day
you left in excitement
in your happy face costume
and never returned
on this Halloween day.

Twelve Strokes Pass Midnight

It drifts through the dark, a chill
wisp of mist on cold night air,
a dark contrivance wreathing

Silhouetted against shuttered
window panes; stealthily pale, a
shadow under a wire strung moon

Passed locked doors, searching;
seeking entry through cracks and

a memory, feigning innocence.

How to Link in My Poetry?

Share your work using InLinkz below, and leave a comment in case it is your first time! It would be great if you could link back to us on your blog.

Weekly poetry collection starts on Sunday, at 2pm (CDT), and will stay open till Wednesday, 8pm (CDT), 78 hours for you to share your poetry with us...

Upcoming Next Week!!  

For Week 12, we will have theme  Feathers,  Fidelity, Figment, and  Fables”. What fun it is, that's next week!

Since this is a virtual party, 
every poet who blogs is invited and welcome here, 
Please dress yourself with Halloween customs, feel FREE to join Us and 
Share your poetry treats, old or new, theme related or unrelated, in any poetry forms!


Morning Appreciates Your Lasting Support and Beautiful Poetry Talent Here!
Please feel free to come, share, and enjoy a fun time "Trick or Treating" !

H-A-P-P-Y P-O-E-T-R-Y P-I-C-N-I-C!

Image Credits: 

Saturday, October 29, 2011

Poetic Reflections Week 11

#1: Kez

I love participating in Jingle Poetry at the gooseberry Garden as I love to read others poetry and share mine.
I love writing and find it therapeutic I also like to write things to highlight certain subject i.e peace, war. children I have 3 Blogs one personal one that highlights different causes.. .and a naughty adult one.

I think

Missiles Of love demonstrate My style

                                             Around the world, missiles and guns.                                           
 Constantly fired 
Death, birth and love though, 
Not yet retired. 
Innocent children brought into this political unrest 
Too young to fight
 Too young to protest 
Innocence and love in childhood
Is their life,
 It is their norm, 
 Yet elders of countries, 
Constantly fighting to reform!

Maybe the saviors from the devastation 
Emanates from their seed
For every fighting nation 
Its from the innocent 
They should take heed 
No prejudices indoctrinated 
Peace, love and tolerance, 
 The only missiles activated. 

#2: ed pilolla

What is the reason you participate poetry picnics of  Jingle Poetry At the Gooseberry Garden?

i want to meet other artists. i want to share my work. i'm impressed by the artists i have read through gooseberry garden.

How does writing poetry impact your life? Why poetry?

my writing is a reflection of my internal world. it's a window to what's brewing inside. i write poetry because that's what comes out. i know nothing of form. i just do what others say is free form.

How many blogs do you have? how long you have been blogging?

i have one blog ( and i have been blogging for a couple years. i only felt comfortable blogging publicly after nearly a year. that's when i began visiting other blogs.

Which poem you have written so far best demonstrates your poetry talent? Please give the  poem content along with link to your poem post, thanks.

i refuse to have a favorite. i'm not willing to allow myself a favorite. my favorite is always right around the corner ;)

#3: Isadora

What is the reason you participate poetry picnics of Jingle Poetry at the Gooseberry Garden?
When I first started participating in Jingle Poetry at Gooseberry Garden it was because it established a way for me to learn more about the art of poetry.  There is an abundance of outstanding poets and writers who post extremely creative word art. It is the fertile ground for me to develop a skill that I find continually astonishing. The challenges are a remarkable way for writers to push themselves to further heights. A noteworthy significance to the work that Gooseberry Gardens team puts into every one of them.
How does writing poetry impact your life?
My thought on the impact of poetry on my life is that because of it I have developed a cadre of skilled masters of it. I am not a poet. I am a novice of the art of poetry. I cannot consider myself skilled. I may be one day but for now I am a student of other masters. My introduction into the world of poetry came from reading the work of and participating in the challenges of Victoria Ceretto-Slotto from  She encouraged me to go further with every comment posted to my blog. She was and is the beacon of light that guides me on the path of a medium I had never ventured to attempt. She reinforces my skills with her kind praise whenever I have written something on my blog. So, I must assuage to her gift of inspiration.
Why poetry?
I consider myself a novice poet with little experience. I have always written short stories or prose but have never attempted poetry exclusively.  I feel fortunate to be able to develop something I never thought I would have been to do. My introduction to poetry blogs came to me by way of Gayle from  She had been writing poetry and I stopped by to read them. I must say I wasn’t encouraged at first. The idea of poetry hadn’t grasped me. But in time, I continued to read and eventually grew to love it. I never thought I would write poetry. When she encouraged me to start my own blog so I could post my stories she recommended I visit the various poetry blogs she enjoyed. I did and the rest is obvious. I am being asked poetry questions. Life is strange.

How many blogs do you have?

Well … one blog. I tend to want to do everything. I suppose I should divide all of my interests into different blogs but one seems to do the trick. I don’t consider Facebook a blog but if it is I do have a Facebook site. I keep it for updates on family and friends. I rarely write anything on there as most people like short, short things written on there. I am a little too wordy for that.

How long you have been blogging?

My blog is about 9 months old. I think it takes just about that long to pull it all together. The blogs I posted in the beginning show very little posting skills. I believe it takes that long to develop your readership, too. It has taken me that long to get into the groove of consistently writing and posting the various things I do.

Which poem you have written so far best demonstrates your poetry talent?

This has been the most difficult of the questions.

I like so many of them for various reasons. The one posted for:

was the first one I had to work really hard to convey my thoughts in poetry form. The poem is called “Your Touch Still Burns Upon My Skin”.

He offered me his strong hand, but I declined, preferring the mysteries in the shadow of my heart.
He offered me his ample lips, and I accepted, consenting to the starvation that will one day be my end.
The stars gave me their knowledge, feeling pity for a dying woman.
And the sun gave me its loathing, in a disdain for a living fool.
Laughing, I can feel your ease, childlike, you enjoy the moment.
Calling me near, you lightly touch persuasive fingers to my skin.
You tell me something, I do not hear lost in the harmony of your voice.
And that light soft touch, barely perceptible, still burns upon my skin.

Thank you for the honor and privilege you have bestowed upon me with this interview.   Namaste, Isadora

#4: Marilyn Anita


What is the reason you participate poetry picnics of Jingle Poetry At the Gooseberry Garden?

It's simple really:
I followed RoughWaterJohn, who followed, Jo, who'd discovered & responded to Magpie Tales' photo prompts.
I in turn responded to one (#82) and, lo and behold, The Gooseberry Garden  popped round to my blog, to read & comment on the poem I'd posted which was inspired by Magpie Tales' photo prompt!

And, In the comment was nestled an invitation to post my poems on this site, and here we are!

How does writing poetry impact your life? Why poetry?

Poetry has always been a part of my life. When I was I a youngster, I used to spend hours reading poems at a bookstore called The Paperback Booksmith. I'd go there, choose my books then sit down, right in the aisle, to read!  Across the years,  I've shared time and time again, all the wisdom I discovered in all those poems.

In writing poems, I hope I've found the means to share my experiences with others. I've several book themes that have been swirling around in my mind for years. I go at them in spurts, fits & starts. But with poetry, and most recently with the pantoum, I've discovered I can tell what I want to tell in one complete work. What an exciting discovery this has been ;-D

How many blogs do you have? how long you have been blogging? Which poem you have written so far best demonstrates your poetry talent? Please give the poem content along with link to your poem post, thanks.

I have four blogs: one for sharing thought-provoking ideas, another for my writing, a third in French that's for getting things of one's chest (& eventually for sharing solutions for life's sometimes nastier surprises), and lastly, one I started for news & posts between cast members of an English pantomime.

Which poem have I written that so far best demonstrates my poetry talent? Well, there are actually two poems, styles of poems (pantoums & diamente or form poems), that come to mind:
Magpie Tale

Rain Song

I ran. My dark purple evening gown trailed in the mud. I ran
from the stiffness of plastic people who’d crowded me.
I could not breathe back there.
The cool rain pelted down, drenched my hair, my clothes…cleansed my body
from the stiffness of the plastic people who’d crowded me.
They’d invited me to sing. Yet, something snapped as I stood before them.
The cool rain pelted down, drenched my hair, my clothes…cleansed my body.
There was nothing I could do. Suddenly, I was suffocating….
They’d invited me to sing. Yet, something snapped as I stood before them.
Their pompous, purposeless faces, their droning idle chatter…Suddenly, there was no air.
There was nothing I could do. Suddenly, I was suffocating….
Frantic eye lunged through the triple bay windows out into the dark wetness.
Their pompous, purposeless faces, their droning idle chatter…Suddenly, there was no air.
Rain tapping on glass drowns all sounds except its own.
Frantic, I lunged through the triple bay windows out into the dark wetness.
The rain caressed, embraced me. I shivered. Giddy. Spirit instantly freed.
I ran. My dark purple evening gown trailed in the mud. I ran
from the stiffness of plastic people who’d crowded me.
I could not breathe back there.
The cool rain pelting down, drenches my hair, my clothes…cleanses my mind
from the stiffness of plastic people who’d crowded me.
I ran till I could run no farther.
The cool rain pelting down, drenches my hair, my clothes…cleanses my mind,
as I upon a stone, and not quite alone, offer my songs to Thee.

distant, close
fighting, growing, changing
Alpha, Omega, blinding, bright
infuriating, loving, endearing
warm, essential

©March 2011 _M. Anita Bailey

Looking forward to hearing from you, thanks in advance, take good care, see you on Sunday for next poetry picnic.

Thanks for asking me! Love, light & laughter to you! Emanita

Happy Writing.

"Love & care are the 1st two ingredients needed to cook, bake and eat anything properly."

Blog sites for your perusal:

#5: Ina

The reason I participate is to see how other poets deal with the theme, and learn more about poetry.  It is 11 months since I started writing English poems, and I think I need to learn a lot! And of course it is fun to do rallies!

Writing is my job, I write novels in Dutch.  I am always writing, day and evenings. In the evenings or early mornings, poems.  I try and read poetry too and every now and then it strikes me how beautiful some poems are.   I don’t have a poet yet that is my favorite, I have to read a lot more! In poetry everything we can possibly imagine, is getting shape. I love that.  In March next year my book “Veritas” will be published in the USA, 161 poems. In English.

I have blogs about genealogy, my family tree, one with Dutch poems and inaweblogisback,  where I publish my English poems. I also have the blog  where I publish poems inspired by the sea, written by guest writers and myself. I have been blogging since 2005 or so. I think I am pleased with the poem ‘Chased’ (it was named ‘We chased the idiot out of the village’ before, an entry for Thursday poets rally Entry for thursday poets rally sept. 2011 week  52).

We chased the idiot out of the village.
He was blamed for the arson and flood
as all the Jews were already gone and dead.
And he lied so much, mother, he lied so much.
so we ran him out of town and chased him away.
He had it coming, he had scared us, mother.
He was crying and demanding his mother
whom he called Maria, when he left our village.
We were so glad he finally went far away.
He was stoned to death, there was a red flood,
so much blood, mother, all his fault, so much
did we hate him, for all that he did he is dead.
We can all be glad now the village idiot is dead
and he can’t hide behind the apron of his mother
where he would scold and scare us so much
that we were about to give up the village,
especially after the days of the horrible flood,
when even the nuns were afraid and went away.
Now the village idiot is finally away
and if it is true what they say, then he is dead,
they have thrown his burned corpse in the flood
and the only one crying was his old mother,
who will never go back to this village
where the idiot was hated so much.
Now we can have a feast and drink much
as the son of god and his mother both are away,
we can now make our own rules in the village
without worrying what may be once we’re dead,
and do you remember that face of the mother?
No, it is good that they’re gone in the flood.
There was so much red drifting away in the flood
But we hated him, mother, we hated so much!
He was human like us, as he too had a mother.
Why could he not just have gone far away?
He is haunting me mother, though he is dead
I don’t think he ever will leave our village.
His mother and him are now drifting in the flood,
gone from the village where happened so much,
but is he away, mother, now he is gone, really dead

It is a sestina.
Thank you and sorry for not responding sooner!

Ina Schroders-Zeeders

#6: Justin Batalden

My name is Justin Batalden (BAH-TALL-DEN) and I'm writer and  blogger.

The reason why I participate in poetry picnics is to try to get my name out there in the writing community. I want to become a writer, and right now I guess I'm just networking.

Poetry impacted my life by making me a lot more out spoken about my ideals. I tend to tell people what I'm thinking causing some laughs and glares from various types of people.

I chose poetry because it is probably the most creative way to write things. There is no set rules on how to write your poetry. It could be two words and if someone else calls it poetry it is poetry. That is what makes poetry so great. The total lack of rules (unless you are wanting to write in a certain style) and the total immersion into the creativity of the author.

I have one blog at the moment I'm thinking of making a new blog sometime soon, so keep your eyes open for it. I have been blogging since January of 2011. It started out as a I have fun for me to put my chapters of my book to a blog for my poetry. I think the best poem that shows my talent would be the poem called "My Wish".  and here it is

My Wish

My wish to change the past
Greatly envelops myself
Can't focus in class
All I can see is the fear
Friends showing the fear
The fear that I never want to be true
The things I said
Never going to be changed
People don't take much notice
They think she is sick
So all they see is the empty chair
Not the fact of what I did
The ice was never there before
The tree was a spawn of death
Life of my friend is gone forever
Looking at the careless faces
All laughing and enjoying themselves
None taking notice to the emptiness
The less laughter that could be there
Why am I so lucky?
I would trade places
To rid this classroom of this emptiness


I have fun reading the above responses, amazing talent and poetry writing, Thanks for the Grace to Jingle Poetry the The Gooseberry Garden!

Recently, we have TWO officials resigned from the community, Thus we need your help with two positions,

One position is to post Poetry Form on Thursdays biweekly, replacing Ava, your first post is November 9, 2011.

Another position is to do Poetry Picnic on weekly or biweekly basis, replacing Shashi, your first post is November 6, 2011, 

For more details, contact Morning at, Thank you in advance for your time and attention.


Not a paying job, but you learn new stuff, exercise your writing skills and in return, as a poet who blogs, your talent becomes more visible via your demonstration your official duties, applicants must have been active in our community for at least 4 weeks, which also means you have attended poetry picnic in the past for at least 4 times, and you have made comments and showed professional manners.... You must be able to work for the community for at least Three Months time period or post at least 8 official will need to have a gmail email account, and open a private blog on blogger so that you post with your personal ID.

Poem of the Week (11) - Nature

Hello Poetry lovers ! And a special hello to the readers among them :D
This is Nimue again (hope you have not forgotten me ;) ) sharing with you one poem from all the amazing verses you linked this week.

I have picked the poem from the blog called : Mystic Mountain  [ totally goes with the theme right !] I have read Marlee's poetry on and off and I am always so much impressed with the sense of belonging each post of hers has. Its simple and has so much of a universal feel to it.

And now to the poem :

Mothering Nature

I want to take a walk in the park
Swing through the trees
And turn into a butterfly
I want to feel my wings become a part of the sky
I want to float on air
Without a care
Fly into a sunrise
And see earth from God’s eyes
I want to be a part of it all
I want to feel nature
And understand Earth
Work together in love
And bring forth a rebirth

(I have not written few paras here intentionally ..
Go read the whole poem on the blog and do leave a comment please )

Friday, October 28, 2011

Friday Poetry Blog Week 11 - IBEINGME

This week we spend some time in India & with celebrating Diwali in the hinduasm religion I have decided to visit a very familiar blogger I use to enjoy his work when he had the previous blog, he has moved to wordpress and his none other then, IAMBEINGME .

About Him
Its About Random People

I am seriously not somebody who gets comfortable with everyone. I am shy. (that’s what I think about me and because of some people I started not to care about others. My special thanks to my writing teacher Nimue who actually liked the idea and today itself she told me not to bother about what others will think about what I write) When I look at any stranger I have an opinion about him/her. It’s not basically about being sarcastic on somebody’s looks it’s actually about the moment in which they are and what they will be thinking. I will try to elaborate about them, may be I am not right in judging the moment.

It is that easy as you would take in the title, Just a guy being a guy almost liek what you see is what you get. This fellow has some great talent in his poetry, he dedicates most his poetry to past loves and just life like his own personal journal in poetry.

His Blog

Ibeingme ~ "trying to describe ME"

One thing we have in common, like me he loves his cricket, there is a tab on the top right where you can go and read his Cricket Dairy , I am sure even though we are from different countries, but India has amazing cricket players and the best team has won the current World Cup.

I like this poem that he wrote about the celebration of Diwali

When you light a candle this diwali

This diwali when you light a candle
capture the spark in your eye
let it twinkle through your life
like a star pasted in the sky.
When you light a candle this diwali
let the glow travel inwards too
through a thick yet warm air
To make you gleam and shine through.
When you light a candle this diwali
look in the eyes of the matchstick
see it smile through the flare
see it live in the candle’s wick.
When you light a candle this diwali
learn to burn a candle’s way
Glowing self, melting exterior
till the last breath is snatched away.

This poem has beautiful texture, the way it just gives that glow about the colorful celebration of this day.

Her Smile

Thinking of her smile
He captures in his journal
His dreams and desires.


I wanted to write a something today.
But I Can’t think of a anything to say.
instead of taking up your time with
humor, religion, Love or sorrow.
I say Good-bye for now.
and I hope my mind comes back tomorrow.

It was a great visit to have browse and read his blog after such a long time, from myself and iBeingMe we wish you a great week till next time I am Chimnese.

Worry about your character,
not your reputation because
your character is who you `
are & your reputation is
what people think you are

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Thursday Poetry Forms (Poetry for Dummies) Week 11

Another Thursday and in the magic sphere of The Gooseberry Garden (where the sun always shine and the gooseberries are always ripe) it is once again time for our Thursday Poetry Forms, or Poetry for Dummies. I am CC Champagne and I am back again to see if we can't find some more interesting poetry forms to wrap our heads around.

Poetry has been around for a long, long time and will probably not die out anytime soon. We are looking at all these old poetry forms, looking for knowledge and inspiration, but what will poetry look like in the future? Have you ever thought about that? Well, I did and stumbled upon a poetry form called computer generated poetry. Interesting!? I thought so, and even though Wikipedia won't give me any information on this I still wanted to pass on the information I found to you. Some may see it as cheating, but it can also be a challenge and it is definitely something that hasn't been around for too long.

Computer generated poetry, in the form I found it here, uses a set form but leave the words of the poem up to the writer/poet. We don't have to worry about poetic feet, syllables or meters and can focus on just making some kind of sense (which might not be as easy as it sounds).

Line one: Article + Adjective noun
Line two: Verb + Simile
Line three: Prepositional phrase
Line four: 'I' + Verb
Line five: Prepositional phrase
Line six: 'and' + Verb
Line seven: Prepositional phrase
Line eight: Simile
Line nine: 'the' + Noun
Line ten: Verb
Line eleven: Prepositional phrase

I think you will see that you don't need to stick to the line separation since it doesn't make much sense, but the whole idea is quite enticing. For even more of a challenge why not decide on letters in advance (you would need about eight of them) and then use a dictionary where you pick the first adjective noun of the first letter you've chosen for line one, the first verb from the second letter in line two etc. etc.

The trick with poetry isn't always to rhyme, to tell a story or to adhere to some ancient poetry form. Sometimes poetry can be completely jumbled, non-sensical and just weird, but it may still instill an emotion in the readers. A poem doesn't have to be epic, doesn't have to answer big questions about life, death or love. A poem can be exactly whatever you want it to be, as long as it has a meaning to you, same as with art. Look at some of Andy Warhol's work! Maybe today's shopping lists are tomorrow's poetry? The exact definition of poetry, to me and I don't claim to be an expert, is in the feeling it instills in its readers, and judging by how heavily we rely on computers today I am willing to bet that at some point in the future poetry forms will include sections on forms, unknown today, that have been generated by computers to some extent. The question is exactly how, and this could be one of the forms taught in future, space-inspired schools many, many centuries from now.

Until next week, feel free to enter any poems you produce, computer generated or not, with the rest of the creative Gooseberry Garden visitors at the Poetry Picnic Week 10: Nature, Forest, Rivers and Mountains, and please let me know in the comments section if you have come across other interesting computer generated poetry forms.


Sunday, October 23, 2011

Poetry Picnic Week 10: Nature, Forest, Rivers, and Mountains

Sunday Is Here, 
Monday is Near, 
 Time to Make Words Rhyme,
Yep, It's P-O-E-T-R-Y P-I-C-N-I-C Time! 

Welcome to Jingle Poetry at The Gooseberry Garden Picnic Week 10, This week, we are going to travel far and wide in discovering magic, wonders, and beauty in Nature, Forests, Rivers, and Mountains,  that’s right!
This is Morning offering you the 10th poetry picnic party from North America, U. S. A.! 

How to Link in My Poetry?

Share your work using InLinkz below, and leave a comment in case it is your first time! It would be great 
if you could link back to us on your blog.

Weekly poetry collection starts on Sunday, at 2pm (CDT), and will stay open till Wednesday, 8pm (CDT), 
78 hours for you to share your poetry with us...

Upcoming Next Week!! 
For Week 11, the theme will be "Halloween - Trick or Treat?!"...
You will have an entire week to prepare your poem for this theme.. :) And if you fall short in writing and submitting a poem ON the theme, no problem... submit any poems that are either spooky, orange color related, or autumn season related, not that hard, oh? That's next week!
Leaving that aside, let's get back to the main topic here. 3...2...1
*pull the party poppers* 
Enjoy Poetry Pig-lets! 

Please read some talented poems below, share your own poetic thoughts via linkz with us!

 Silk Works 
Turtle Memoirs, or Ruth

tossed silken strand
on wind, who carried thread
to open branch. Let the weaving
spilt words on page, wove finest threads
through with love, to fashion
rich tapestry
of verse.

The Thunder 

much so the clouds were gathering ,
 So much so the sun was descending,
 So much so the dusk was slowly setting,
So much so there  was an eye tearing lightning,
Followed by a thunder deafening.
Many a heart  jumped  out in apprehension,
Many a voice  got stifled with emotions,
Many an ear lost the power of attention,
Many a gadget  was snapped  of its connections,
Many a hut  caught fire in the commotion,
As the thunder thundered  in terrific motion.
Little do we pay heed to Nature’s fury,
Little do we  respect Nature’s cosy,
Little do we acclaim Nature’s glory,
Little do we endorse Nature’s theory,
Little do we read  Nature’s  story,
Un mindful   we carry on with our selfish booty.

  Season's Change

I took a walk this morning.
The season has changed here
though where you are they don’t.
The dried, brittle grass beneath my feet
made a consistent crackle,
echoed by the gossip of sparrows above.
The leaves are stripped from the birches and maples.
They fell like rain on a fallow ground one day
and I didn’t see them go.
I think of your rounded arms when I see the shedding birches,
the smooth bark like white skin with a faint pulse of the river beneath.
Do you remember that river, when it scared you to stand close to the bank?
You thought the earth would slip inward,
take you on a wild ride downstream where
I couldn’t retrieve you,
and I saw for an instant your raised arms imploring me silently to save you—
though it never happened and you never slipped down the bank and I never could save you.
But imagination plays with your mind when it’s all that is left.

Since this is a virtual party, 
every poet who blogs is invited and welcome here, 
Please dress yourself with poetic styles, feel FREE to join Us and 
Share your poetry treats, old or new, theme related or unrelated, in any poetry forms!

H-A-P-P-Y P-O-E-T-R-Y P-I-C-N-I-C!