posted
You remember back when you fancied yourself the latest Emily Dickinson and went to poetry slams, don't you? I have to look back at a lot of my writings and just laugh my butt off!
Here's a gem I found, dated May 1993... (hmmm... that puts me past the teen years) It's a real side-splitter; I bet at the time I thought it was Very Serious and Important!
RAPUNZEL HAS LOST HER HAIR
She is screaming as she stares down the cold, rocky tower at the man lying in a pool of blood and mounds of matted hair
She is crying as she recalls the past few hours: The man called to her "Let down your tresses that I may scale this tower!"
She is shaking as she moves her delicate hands across her scalp; Where the follicles were torn there is simply nothing there.
She is fainting from the terror: the last sound to touch her ears is the voice of people yelling "Rapunzel has lost her hair!"
-------------------- The Semi-Great Gildersleeve - writing, super-heroes, and this 'n' that
From: The Stasis Zone | Registered: Jul 2003
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posted
After I got a bad grade on a poetry analysis paper (did my teacher ever personally ask Mr. Shakespeare exactly what his sonnet meant? I don't think so), I wrote a completely bitter, angsty, nonsense poem during lunch hour in about 10 minutes and gave it to a friend, who did a hilarious line-by-line analysis. What do you think it means?
An Insignificant Speck in the Universe by Eric
i am an old barn, creaking, creaking and my roof is leaking, leaking inside me a mouse is sneaking, sneaking along the hay-strewn floor
a little boy is peeking, peeking for something his is seeking, seeking his tennis shoes are reeking, reeking his friends think he's a bore
outside a dame is eeking, eeking surely she is freaking, freaking the big strong dog is meeking, meeking children? they have four
the wind 'round me is shrieking, shrieking the tumultous sound is peaking, peaking bright lightning now is streaking, streaking the old barn is no more
-------------------- Geek Watch
From: Standing beside you in Ferndale, MI | Registered: Aug 2003
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Wotta great idea! And some great angsty stuff on display here!
Mine is from my teen college years:
His country is taxing him, He pays in carbonated twitches, His sweat a fickle, trickling stream, Snaking its way down his river bed. His legs jerk: an earthquake of limbs.
Divorced from his control, The union of eyes fixated like statues, And heartbeats like thunder and acid, Anxiously awaiting anullment.
And inches from his face, his partner, his crutch, Unravels like failing vision.
*** Wow, I feel so embarrassed.
-------------------- Why are you laughing at me? It's unkind, as well as puzzling!
From: City of Angels | Registered: Jul 2003
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quote:Originally posted by MLLASH: Wow, Seymor, Rokk-- you guys were as full of teen/college angst as I was. Thanks for sharing it, I thoroughly enjoyed your poetry, do MORE!
Cramey, the cheese poem is really, REALLY bad! You don't wanna read it!
Yes I do. More cheese, please.
Great stuff, everybody! Mine was so bad it got burned long ago. But I'm sure it was over-brimming with soulful angst and suffering.
posted
Fine, but don't laugh TOO hard, you might shatter my gentle poet's psyche! This piece of crap is dated October 1990. Aah, a mere babe in swaddling cloth I was then! I'm sure I had been just traumatized by something I thought I'd never recover from...! Some callous bastard MAN, no doubt! And where in the hell did I get the notion that I knew anything abour cheese in France?
I tried and failed Well at least I tried But the key word here is "failed".
Of all the cheesemongers Cheese-whizzes and cheeseballs I've met I have proved by far to be the cheesiest.
In France, the best cheese is runny with a tiny hint of mold- That's like me, so I've shown. Too cheesy for words or company and now the cheese stands alone.
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