Jun 08, 04
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Some Poems
Here are some half silly poems that I wrote for a creative writing class I took. I'm not much for writing poetry, so there's nothing really deep here. I'm also not much for the bleeding angst teenage poetry, so this is what you get.
Apple: Green skin stretched across an almost Perfect sphere. White spots like Dried up rain And an umbilical cord long severed Inside I know It’s sweet, but the last thing I want To do is harm that Perfect Outer shell. Me, Myself and I: I was out in the woods for a long walk, I wanted to get some fresh air. I didn’t expect to meet some new friends Of which I would soon learn to care. I met an old man whose name was Myself Across an old blanket he lay. He looked up at me and said very clear, “You’re a handsome young fellow, I say!” I asked him to join my walk in the woods And he quickly accepted, he did. So onward we walked until we both saw A bench upon which sat a kid. We walked up to him and both of us said, “You’re a handsome young fellow, I say!” he looked at Myself and then up at I and a smile broke out clear as day. “My name is Me, and I’m glad we have met, I was terribly lonely, you see. There’s not many people that I seem to meet As handsome as all of us three.” So off we all went on a walk in the woods Holding hands and skipping up high And what a strange sight, it must have been To see us: Myself, Me and I! Ode To Albert: in my head there’s nothing but shelves-- and files and folders and such. with paper strewn about the floor-- of writing of drawings of sludge. and there in the centre sits an old man-- with wrinkles with glasses with gray. he sits in his chair and files all year-- my day dreams my musings my thoughts. without him I wouldn’t be sane-- so crazy so freaky so nuts. so here’s to you Albert old chap!-- my hero my saviour my brain. End of a Summer Day: Trees with bodies Cut from black Construction paper, Line the summer sky, Which is fast fading Into summer night. Blue rippling clouds Tinged with green, Soak up the last Few rays of day, Like sponges sitting In an ocean sky. 
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Jun 08, 04
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haha i wrote apple sitting in the arts lounge staring my granny smith apple because i was so bored.
i dont' usually write poems and the few that i have are either kinda silly or about nature and stuff. if i want to get out angry feelings i have i write a short story usually and incorporate it into that...whenever i tried to write out angry thoughts using poems it always seemed to come off cliched. the rhyming in the myself and me and i one is kinda wonky at times because we had to make it rhyme so it sounds forced i think a bit at parts. but oh well.
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Jun 22, 04
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i really like the me myself and I one..
i think its really cute
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