Last week I put up one of the crappy poems I did in school that all the teachers liked for some reason. Here are a few more I did last week.

-We had to write about light and dark or ying and yang or something.-

Light and Dark

Like a sad puppy and a happy one

They are opposites

A large sum of money

Can't even change this

It would be like

Trying to eat a chair

Made of the souls of children

A wise man once said

"A walk in the dark

Is like a punch to the face"

The dark is a hat

The light is a shoe

One sits on your head

The other does too

As I sit in a chair

And hold onto a pencil

Tim Banas strikes my hand

In a cloud of dust

And I wonder,

Light and Dark?

Why not?

-We had to write about what people are like on the inside, and how things aren't as they always appear. So, of course I wrote about monkeys.-

Most people think monkeys are docile

But this one time

A few years ago

There were these monkeys that lived all together

They lived in a huge tree

The size of two normal trees

And they loved that tree with all of their monkey hearts

So then one day

I don't know when

This new monkey hobbled up to the tree weakly

Like a bird trying to swim or something

And so the monkeys jumped down to see

To see what this old fat monkey wanted!

And they saw that this was a fat old monkey

And the monkeys thought,

That hey, this monkey couldn't do any harm

He was fat, like a fat human

And he walked so slowly

That he wasn't very fast, at all

And the monkeys saw that he meant no harm

So they took him up into the tree

And made him comfortable,

Like a baby trying to sing

And then they all went to sleep

And the moonbeams from above shown down

Like the sun I guess

And in the middle of the night

The old monkey got up

and approached his sleeping friends

And scratched their faces up

So be careful, I guess.

-Then, we had to write about death. This is my personal favorite.-

When hippos die,

No one cares

Think

Are you sad about hippos dying?

Ever?

I'm not

They are large, mishapen beasts

They only care about themselves

But when the time comes,

A sharp bladed sword of distiny,

Fate takes the heart of the hippo

(A large, bublous gift)

And,

As if peeling an orange,

Fate lays the hippo on its side

Dead, a fat little blop on the horizon

And who will remember this hippo?

Not the others, who feast upon their brother's flesh

But you can remember this hippo.

Its honor,

A small grape in the midday sun,

Will shrivel into a raisin

And someone will pop it into their mouth

Unless you take the grape,

The hippo's honor,

With a gentle hand,

a grip of melting snow and fluff,

And slip it into your pocket

And remember it forever

A nice, cold, tasty grape

You will want to eat it, but you won't

You will keep the hippo soul/grape with you until the end of time

Then, I guess you will die, and the little grape,

smooshed and moldy,

Will fall out of your pocket,

and make a grape or hippo tree, or something.

The poetry teacher read the last one to the class, and I think the monkey one freaked her out a little because she wrote "WHAT!" near the end. She liked them all except for the one that I didnt put up here, because I wrote that one semi seriously and she just wrote "meh" or something. Then I wrote a short short story that was kinda funny and the teacher liked that. I guess whenever I don't take things seriously my work is better, or something. It's really messed up though.