So, Fort Knocks has thrown out a meme and I cannot refuse. It goes as follows:
1. Find a poem (or two, if you're ambitious) that you wrote in high school. If you can't find a poem, find a piece of prose. If you can't find a piece of prose, find a history paper or something.
2. Post it!
3. Tag three people to do the same.
So, here begins the humiliation. In my high school English class, we had two options for the final. Write a paper or write 2 poems on one theme we had discussed. This is the result:
A flower with a perfect bud
Nipped and developed
Planted deep within the sod
Growing and flourishing
Never wilts and never faulters
It's growing all the time
Soon it will be fine as wine
Try to grasp reality,
We are not perfect, it and me.
A work of art
With such flourish
Making like a whirling dervish
Colors smart and shine like the sun
As a childs face while having fun
The frame is cold, the artist old
But still the painting leaves me cold
Try to grasp reality,
We are not perfect, it and me.
Perfect face and hands and feet
Always trimmed, always neat
Never a hair out of place
Powdered white and pretty face
Groomed for style and pampered too
Frosty like the morning dew
Try to grasp reality,
We are not perfect, you and me.
Totally cringe-worthy. So now, I tag Mags, LaGartija, and Laughing Salmon.
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3 comments:
If I were an English teacher, I would've given you an A, just for the use of "whirling dervish."
Good one!
but it was not perfect, it and me.
dang, that doesn't really make sense, huh.
OH MY GOSH. I hit the jackpot on bad olf high school poetry! I was intrigued by your meme so I opened my old trunk in the basement and after a few minutes of rummaging came upon a hideous pink floral journal book with HIGH SCHOOL POEMS. Here goes (Oh, lordy) This one is SO awful, but I kinda like my message! :
Sometimes our hearts are like broken scales
On which our problems lay.
We feel that all our efforts fail,
But it looks like more than it really weighs.
Sometimes our hearts are like feathers,
which drift along high and free.
But along comes dark and stormy weathers,
to burden us with reality.
Sometimes we spend time writing poems,
which dwell upon the pains.
We need to stop throwing stones
And use an umbrella when it rains.
Sometimes we need to loosen up,
And go with what we've got.
We'll find that in being satisfied
We really have a lot.
And yet another:
Only after the last
ray of comforting
sun
fled from sight
could the already present
moon
illuminate the sky
with perfect clarity
And the last one I PROMISE although there are some hilarious love poems that are hideous too instead but I'll post this one- I don't know if it is even considered a poem:
Within each heart there lies a choice.
As it falls in a different light, it becomes clear only to fade. From the left it stares with empty eyes, bleak and cruel. With teeth bared, it reaches, gnarled fingers stretching and clawing, holding you down. As you turn to escape it's grip you glimpse it's face from the right. It is clear and bright, full of promise. It's pure light blinds you, causes you to forget all terror. You long to stay, to stare unendingly into it's mesmerous eyes. You reach out to grasp it, feel it in your hands, but it jumps back, revealing it's grotesqueness. One of the sides is unreal. If it is not reality, the left side is merely a test, an obstacle to overcome before gaining the prize. But only fate knows if it is real. If the right side is merely a lure, drawing you slowly in. Which do you choose? Stay with the dream, risking the terror, or walk away, leaving behind the knowledge of what you could have had.
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