Tag Archives: forget

“To pluck is…”

To pluck is…

Breathe softly the scent. /

Flowers remind you to let go. /

To pluck is to forget.

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#pluck #flowers #022623t #forget #breathe #scent #haiku #poem #poetry #senryu #haiga #photo #oldnortknoxville #davidebooker #february #wednesday #022625 #2025

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Filed under 2025, haiku, Old North Knoxville, photo, Photo by author, Photo by Beth Booker, photo by David E. Booker, poem, poet, poetry, poetry by author, Poetry by David E. Booker

Monday morning writing joke: “Absent”

Two writers are sitting at a bar.

The first writer says to the other one, “I drink to forget. How about you?”

The second writer replies, “Me too. Why do you drink?”

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Filed under 2015, Monday morning writing joke

New words to live by: “fogget”

It is the first weekend of the month and time again for a new word to live. This is a word or phrase not currently in use in the U.S. English lexicon, but should be considered. Other words, such as obsurd, crumpify, subsus, flib, congressed, and others, can be found by clicking on the tags below. The new word for January is fogget. This is a combination of fog and forget.

fog, n. has several meanings, from a meteorological condition to a metaphorical one. For example:

1. a cloud-like mass or layer of minute water droplets or ice crystals near the surface of the earth, appreciably reducing visibility.

2. a darkened state of the atmosphere, or the diffused substance that causes it.

3. a state of mental confusion or unawareness.

forgetful, n. means apt to forget, and forget, v. means to fail or cease to remember.

Fogget, v. means to apt to have a vague sense of where somebody or something is. You don’t cease to remember, but you don’t completely remember either.

For example, with three children under the age of five, Alice was always foggetting where she put the kids’ extra diapers, pacifiers, and sundry other accoutrements of babyhood and toddlerdum. She knew she had them; she just wasn’t sure exactly where she or one of her kids had left the object inducing the crisis of the moment. She could only hope that at some point the foggetting, like the baby’s need for strained peas, would pass.

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Filed under new word, New words to live by