| why I don't write poetry |
| Wednesday, 03 December 2008 | |
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If you missed yesterday's post (I know! Two posts in two days!), I've unofficially started a little series I like to call "Stuff I Wrote Before I Got Good." Today's edition is a poem. Ha! As far as I can recall, it's the last poem I ever wrote. And as far as I can project, it's the last poem I'll ever write. Notice the use of the word "upon." All good poets use it at least twice per poem. And evidently, sarcasm was a recurring theme in my writing back in high school. So much has changed since then. Untitled (Marla Yoder, 1992) Each and every morning/ I awaken from my sleep/ I jump out of my bed/ Throw my covers in a heap. I skip around my bedroom/ With a grin upon my face/ I'm getting so excited/ I have no time to waste. I look inside my closet/ To find something to wear/ Sweatpants and a sweatshirt?/ Oh my goodness, do I dare? Then I fly down the stairs/ To find something to eat/ Some generic kind of cereal/ Hmmm...what a treat! Then I bolt into the shower/ Where I sing a little song/ I hop on out and get dried off/ I'm moving right along! When I'm all dried off/ And I'm fully dressed/ I run into the bathroom/ And brush my teeth with Crest. Then I ask myself THE question/ How shall I do my hair?/ So many possibilities/ This is more than I can bear. Then it hits me all of a sudden/ I know exactly what to do/ I will not do my hair at all/ Now that'll look real cute! Then finally comes the moment/ I've been waiting for so long/ I hear the school bus in the distance./ And I want to sing a song. I quickly grab my bookbag/ And out the door I fly/ I jump onto the school bus/ I'm so happy I could die. We travel down the road/ Then the school comes into view/ I almost pee my pants/ I swear it's really true! I race into the building/ Skipping through the halls/ A great big grin upon my face/ I'm bouncing off the walls. I yank open my locker/ And grab a couple books/ While everyone around me/ Greets me with strange looks. I rush to my 1st period class/ Shout "Hi!" to Mr. Keirn/ I open up my notebook/ And yell, "I want to learn!" I only have one thing to say/ If you were me, you'd see/ That school is just the greatest place/ I could ever hope to be. One more thing before I go/ I'll try to make it quick/ If you believed a word I said/ You are really sick. |






