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Good day to all, my name is Laurie
for this spotlight, you won’t be sorry.
Although I wrote it down in rhyme,
I hope tonight’s a winsome time.me27[1]

Pat (the) Hatt is here to spat,
(he swears his name is really that)
a rhyme or two he’ll share with you
(or three or four, you won’t get bored).

Pat, let’s begin with a rhyme. Do you have a favorite chime?

As far as favorites go I have far too many, they are pretty much like movies for me. There are plenty I like but no clear favorite. Of course there are plenty I can curl my nose up at with ease though. So I decided to pick one that actually took some work to do and not just my usual 15 minutes of rhyme.

*Flashback*
by Pat Hatt

Once upon a frightful quest, while I lingered for a rest,
Surrounded by awe shimmering shadows of blood black,
While they frolicked, nearly running, broiled in their simple cunning,
A blinding flash was rather stunning, stunning from my pack.
“Damn bind,” I grumbled, “Loose again in my pack,
Which I carry on my back.”

I muttered over the sales call I received at the mall,
For it I could recall while reaching round for a smack.
Stuck in perpetual lazy my eyes were quickly growing hazy,
What appeared seemed crazy – crazy as a heart attack.
 Fact which pawned upon morrows night attack,
Scar forever on my back.

The size remained insisting having crazy still persisting,
Enamored of the stature progressing like sea wrack
Grasped in nerve sensation I found a slight elation,
“Bless the flash mutation stunning from my pack”
“Fame brought by mutation stunning from my pack;”
Solely resting on my back.

My mind spun rehearsal; fear retreating into reversal,
“Stay,” ordered I, “excuse my lack of special knack.
Simply your incessant running targets very little cunning.
The added flash was stunning, stunning from my pack.
That my eyes deceived me.” Allowance of the pack.
Swinging loose on my back.

Looking within the tattered confines, creeping loose awakened signs,
Attracting signs which resemble designated quack.
Yet the creeping came returning, increasing my fame’s yearning,
Slowly I was learning the grievance given to my pack.
Counting my expected earning, paving waves to my pack,
Which started on my back.

Could exhaustion harbor tricks as my mind tumbled bricks?
For emerging shadows computed neglect track.
“Has to,” said I, “My ship has docked from this spy.
Let me dispute dry growing mystery to detour flack.
Confine my mind for a moment to detour flack;
Slumping crazy on my back.

Closing stunning sack I slung, back to back deterring bell rung.
In the darkness I crept through nerves attack.
There before my peering eyes, stayed more glowing eyes.
A thief’s quartet meandering lies, bestowed from my pack.
Bestowed upon thieving dreams exaggerated from my pack,
Lingering forth on my back.

There some ranks kept staffing echoing incessant laughing,
Apparitions held more yield than such piercing clack,
“Your tact is rather inspiring,” I said, “fact I’m left admiring,
But patience is expiring wishing for your fade to black.
Provide one reason to sway your fade to infinite black.”
 Breezing wind spoke, “Flashback.”

Surround to increased judging, unclear to their breezed nudging,
Exploring memories just created – mesmerized before slipped crack.
Peering eyes were unceasing in the dark they were policing,
Which I was leasing from my restful pack,
Ordain or lore spotted from my restful pack,
Subtly advising, “Flashback.”

The collection remained defiant in face of the parading giant,
Lonely yet masked as one endearing pack.
Striking and ready to rumble while distinguished in humble,
Forcing my returning mumble, “Preparation for a whack,
Passage given to prevent preparation for a whack.”
I was simply given, “Flashback.”

Accomplishing what was desired, the rest I had required,
 Furnaced by rising fire arrowed to my track,
Sharpened to my surprise proving their thief disguise,
 Still breezing forth their cries of narrowing flack,
Hope was all that lingered in such narrowing flack,
With the utterance of, “Flashback.”

Brightened eyes and bestowed pride, razored upon my stride,
Straight I charted within my mind to little moving slack.
Suddenly my hope was sinking when upon me they came slinking,
Jailed to the sight of blinking, shining forth Olympic plaque,
 Sunk in slink, sharpen, scrooge, scavenging of Olympic plaque,
Lies encompassing, “Flashback.”

Sicken from whistling whining, in need of some dining,
Flipped forth the envious sack beseeching a snack,
Staring eyes all a flutter, slick as day old dripping butter,
Forcing forth a tainted stutter, “Flash within my pack,
Dwindling declarations hung wasting within my pack,
Whispering forth, “Flashback.”

Lording over dropping straps wishing for darkened gaps,
Filtering through the natures nurturing hack,
Forest flirting with the zipper, surrounding foes becoming chipper,
 Crawling cackles directing pointed flipper, gunning the track,
Zoning deeper into games gunning for the track,
Lingering echoes store, “Flashback.”

Once upon a frightful quest while I lingered for a rest,
Thieving shadows whispered in unison from the black,
Lurking desperate for my riding, triumphant in their guiding,
Ridding me of past siding, through lights dancing cracks,
Raven path’s golden fleece back in lights dancing cracks,
My refusal to, “Flashback.”

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

I must ask before we start, does rhyme pour forth from your heart? Do you speak or dream in rhyme most of the time?

I can generally turn it off and on. I’m pretty good at compartmentalizing
when need be. When in blog and children’s book mode I rhyme away and when
in novel or life mode, it is usually normal speak. Although I do find
myself talking in rhyme some days, if I don’t keep on top of it.

Haha. I knew it.

pathattphoto[1]

Tell us about yourself, Pat. We want to know where you’re at.

Where to begin while not in rhyme? The cat might consider it a crime but I will forgo such a chime at least for a time.

 As far as family goes that is a rather easy one to talk about as it’s just me and two cats, the cat, which is Orlin, he’s an almost 4 years old F3 Savannah and thinks he is simply king of everything. Cassie, a stray tabby I took in, is 5 and as prissy as can be. Then of course I and my craziness are all that reside at my shore.

Life has kicked me down, as it does with all of us, a time or ten. But not much we can do but push on and of course making fun of it helps as well. With my, I guess you can call it, humor that does come off with ease.

Kicked you down a time or ten? Elaborate my friend. 

One was this year, pretty much all year, with a stinking gluten allergy. You never know what food can do until it happens, every part of my body did not work right, just the plumbing haha

The second was years ago, as there was a suicide in the family. It didn’t affect me with death, as death comes to us all, always the way I look at it. But as the gossip and rumors fly, that is when you find out who you can trust and let’s just say there were not many of them.

You know, I relate to both; we mustn’t let it stunt our growth! But as you were about to say, humor really saves the day. 

Yes, humor- of course I translate into my kid’s books and novels. Both are on different ends of the spectrum as you can only go so far with kid’s books compared to adult novels. But a little innuendo is fun, like the bush with the tush. My brain just seems to go where it needs to and when the voices in my head speak, I write it out.

What is poetry to you? Do you have a different view?

Poetry to me is really a way of sharing thoughts in a way that makes people think. There are so many I have found through dVerse and each have their own style, but each makes you think. It can mean different things to different people and many never see the same thing. I never in a million years would have considered myself a poet, and frankly, I still don’t. I’m more of a rhyming nut, disguised as one. But it’s a sharing community that isn’t grounded by bounds or laws, all just let it flow and that is what I enjoy about it, as poetry seems to be freeing for many and you get to see different sides of people.

Here’s a poem of Pat’s I chose to share; after all, we’ve been there.

*A Little Less rhyme for a Time*
by Pat Hatt

Not a huge rhyme in sight.
Losing my rhyming might?
Or could it be something else at my sea?
Like leaving bush number three.

Or at least that dirty human Pat,
Is skipping out on the cat.
So for a few days the rhymes may be less,
That I will confess.

I guess even a cat and stupid Pat,
Needs a reprieve once in a while at their mat.
But we will be back and around to read,
Each and every feed.

When? Who knows though,
As Pat has never ever left his show.
 Besides Gawker Island and some other stuff,
 Where Drazin too probably gave a huff and puff.

All the cat can say,
To whoever the thief that stole him today,
Is you better send him back,
 So Miss Priss and I don’t have to hang out with this other cat pack.

Hmmm this was supposed to be short.
I guess it just isn’t the case at my court.
Oh well I will still rhyme each day,
Whether or not Pat is here to play.



Tell us about your blog, Rhyme Time. How did you come up with such a whimsy chime?

I owe all of that and pretty much all the books to Orlin. I always had ideas for novels and worked on them here and there but I never knew I could rhyme what so ever until I got him. Then one day I was fooling around looking to create another twitter account, so I could plug some affiliate ads and such, when he trotted by all smug. So I thought why not pretend to be the cat in the hat. I did that for a while and figured I’d open it up to a blog of its own as people were really liking the rhymes. It just seemed natural for it to be called Rhyme Time, for I rhyme most all of the time. The 24 is always the number I end most things with too, as both cat’s were born on the 24th and I was as well. Plus favorite show is 24, so it just seems natural to use that too.

 The blog then took on a life of its own. I never knew such a world existed like blogland and I quickly became an addict. Natasha and Brian were two of the first there and then slowly more and more came. I found skills I never knew I had and it quickly went from pretending to be some character to creating a character all my own. His antics and rather smug attitude brought on everything. There would be no 7 kids books, with 5 more on the way, no blog with nearly 2000 followers and 700 posts(100 of which are still waiting to show haha) and probably wouldn’t even be my four novels, with a fifth on the way, if it wasn’t for the antics of a cat.

So what’s next, Pat, for you and your cat?

Pat's cat

Pat’s cat

Plans for the future are to hopefully get rid of the friggin 9-5 work crap
and just write the kids books and novels. Then get us out of this crappy
apartment, get a dog and keep on writing. That is all I really plan for at
the moment. Who knows what will happen though.

A dog? Oh my, that will be exciting for us all. Is the world one big hairball, a place to change? Please do tell how you’d rearrange.

If I could change the world, not sure I would as you change one thing and everything changes. But what I’d like to do is tell those rich (you knows) to stuff it and actually let actual cheap and working treatments for diseases, such as cancer, come full market, of which there are a few.

Speaking of telling people certain things, what about new poets spreading their wings?

Poets just starting out. Best advice is what I heard over and over and
over again, just write, write and write some more. Also there is a huge
community out there and with most of them you can feel comfortable to put
out there whatever you want, very supportive. You might get some haters,
but then that will occur no matter what. And it helps to be seen if you
pull a Brian and hope around everywhere. The cat learned that trick from
him!

We appreciate you being here. Any final words to share?

And now I think it has come to pass that I have to go feed the cat some bass, from which he will probably get gas in quite the mass. He does not have much class, but he and I will thank you lass and then off he will go wiggling his little rhyming ass.
What’ s one curse? Later, dVerse.

Contact info:

Blog: http://rhymetime24.blogspot.com

Twitter: Rhymetime24, Pathatt24

Site: www.pathattbooks.com

Books: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=pat+hatt

email: http://rhymetime24.blogspot.com/p/contact.html

If you have any questions for Pat, please feel free to ask (in the comments).