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Please excuse the comma splices, tense changes, verbosity, etc. I was just a youngin' and now I realize the error of my grammatical ways. Plus, I preferred the flowery and descriptive writing styles of the early 19th century and beyond rather than the short, journalistic post-Hemingway-style of writing. I love intense imagery and descriptions in general. Still deciding whether I should edit my old poetry for grammar mistakes or take the Beatnik approach and fuck it.

Disclaimer: I only wrote/write on bad days. Grand days have never inspired me enough to write as I've always used writing as an outlet. A majority of my poetry is angsty, dark humored, or depressing, however, I don't have depression, and I'm not self-destructive or suicidal by any means. My writing is mostly a tenfold representation of the kind of day I was having at the time. Embellishing the realities of my bad days on paper helped turn them into good days. Not sticking my head into an oven anytime soon (or ever, actually). :P +10 points if you got the reference.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to comment

Thursday, April 5, 2007

The Climbing Vine

There was a vine that was colored red,

It was so tall it touched my head,

I climbed the vine that ran so high,

I was headed right towards the sky,

I climbed on a cloud that was shaped like a square,

The vine was 100 times longer than my hair,

Then the vine wrapped around my feet.



I felt the pitter-patter of people drumming a beat,

I felt like a drummer,

Beating their drum,

I beat the drum, Rum-a-tum-tum,

I was eager to enter the kingdom above.



In fact, I found a magical dove,

The dove was shaped like a hydroplane,

Then, I heard a choo-choo train,

It was headed toward a cloud as lout as thunder,

I thought the train wouldn't make it under!



I was right,

Or so I thought,

The train tied the cloud into a knot,

Then, with a great big boom,

The cloud burst, and I went zoom!



I slid down the vine, and started to fly,

As I bid farewell and descended from the sky,

Than I finally reached the ground,

But as I fell,

I didn't make a sound.



Then, I finally knew what's-up,

As my mother yelled "Get Up!"

Even though it didn't seem,

I knew that it was just a dream.

Copyright © 2007

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

This is a rather strange poem and the flow was a bit jerky but it wasn't bad. Try to avoid writing 100 in numbers in the middle of a poem. It looks more professional if you spell it out and I think you meant loud in this sentence -

It was headed toward a cloud as lout as thunder,

Other than that, your spelling was accurate and it was rather random but enjoyable.