20.3.10

elementary poetry II

I loved to write poetry when I was younger. Topics ranged from dinosaurs to camel soup to rabbit utopias.

My Dino
again i think tom helped me with this...

I'm gonna live with a dinosaur
I think I'll faint when I hear its roar
I wonder if it eats macaroni and cheese
But I hope it doesn't eat elbows and knees
I'm gonna live with dinosaurs
I'm pretty sure I'll have some sores
Broken arms and a broken nose
Large teethmarks and bloody toes
I wonder if I'll get a Tyrannosaurus
Iguanodon or a Brontosauras
I gotta think of a Dino name
I wonder if he's wild, I wonder if he's tame
Watson, Georrgie, Harry Mary
Different Dino names will vary
Hairy, skinny, plump or fat I'm
gonna get a dinosaur now what
do you think of that!

i was obsessed with cats. no really. i was subscribed to Cat Fancy no lie.

Swift and silently she creeps
gliding through the rippling grass
Her eyes like glowing embers and
her fur as smooth as glass

her muscles tense and coiled tight
like a thick and coiled spring
her claws sheathed but quivering ready
not knowing what her hunt will bring

Limerick

There once was a small, fierce young Wog
who lived by a swampy old bog
he would eat anything
that his mother would bring
but his favorite was green roasted frog

i just realized that all this poetry deals with violence in some way. i swear i had a happy childhood!!

here is a cheeseball peaceful poem for Ms. ___'s 6th grade english class...shoot I forget her name but she was one of my favorite teachers. She was incredibly cynical and sarcastic and I'm pretty sure she hated children. She had a gravelly voice, yellow-white hair and a smokers cough but I really liked her. The only reason she liked me is because I never talked. Anyways, this poem is happy and even has bunnies in it. Probably just reflecting my state of mind in the class.

A garden sloped with moss and green
A gurgling spring, a breeze serene
Pebbles pink, smooth and round
Rippled hills where rabbits bound

awwww.

--also, i have no idea what the point of this mossy rippled hill garden place is. nothing happens besides rabbits.

i didn't write this poem but it used to be one of my favorites:

The ruby-throated hummingbird
is harldy bigger than this WORD!!
--Jack Prelatsky

Pieces: elementary poetry I