Darren

My final thoughts on poetry

I think that poetry

________________________________________________________ 6/1/11

Humorous


 * STUPID DOG!!**

There's poop on the floor, And pee on the door. There's a dog lying on the ground, Don't know what he's found. His bark is like Beiber's voice, OOH! what an awful noise!! There he ran across the road, Chasing that retarded toad. He ran after his smelly jar, And got hit by a car.
 * BANG!!!!!!!**


 * I thought of this poem because dogs aren' smart**


 * Mr Tweedle**

Old Mr Tweedle, Likes to fiddle, With his needle.

He killed his wife, With a knife, And carried on with life.

He took a gun, Having fun, And shot himself in his bun.

11/1/11

Limerick

A flea and a fly in a flue, Were imprisoned, so what could they do? Said the fly "Let us flee", Said the flea "Let us fly!", So they flew through a flaw in the flue.

I chose this poem because of its rhyming words

People keep telling me that I need to marry, But I saw what happened to my good friend Larry, He was stripped of all his money, In the name of alimony, That's why I'd rather sit at home and watch Tom & Jerry.

This poem is slightly humorous

Haiku

As the wind does blow Across the trees, I see the Buds blooming in May

Lucifer loves lies he abodes not in the truth the father of lies

Sonnet

**A New Year's Sonnet**

Wake up; Wake up, for a New Year is born! Spring-time has come and the Oak has acorn; Wake up; Wake up, for the sweet songs of Birds; They twitter and chatter, flying in hordes.

Wake up; Wake up, for the meadow is green; The landscape is so bright, lively, serene; Wake up; Wake up, for the tall grass in dance, To the tune of the Wind, marching perchance.

Wake up; Wake up, for the gorgeous flowers, Have blossom'd after the Spring-time showers; Wake up; Wake up, for the Sun has come out; ’Tis warm day indeed for running about. Wake up; Wake up, for the weather is fine; ’Tis time you made peace with neighbours with wine

SInce There's no help

Since there's no help, come, let us kiss and part, Nay, I have done, you get no more of me, And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart, That thus so cleanly I myself can free. Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows, And when we meet at any time again Be it not seen in either of our brows That we one jot of former love retain. Now at the last gasp of Love's latest breath, When, his pulse failing, Passion speechless lies, When Faith is kneeling by his bed of death, And Innocence is closing up his eyes, Now, if thou wouldst, when all have giv'n him over, From death to life thou might'st him yet recover.

**Bridal Ballad**

The ring is on my hand, And the wreath is on my brow; Satin and jewels grand Are all at my command, And I am happy now.

And my lord he loves me well; But, when first he breathed his vow, I felt my bosom swell- For the words rang as a knell, And the voice seemed his who fell In the battle down the dell, And who is happy now.

But he spoke to re-assure me, And he kissed my pallid brow, While a reverie came o'er me, And to the church-yard bore me, And I sighed to him before me, Thinking him dead D'Elormie, "Oh, I am happy now!"

And thus the words were spoken, And this the plighted vow, And, though my faith be broken, And, though my heart be broken, Here is a ring, as token That I am happy now!

Would God I could awaken! For I dream I know not how! And my soul is sorely shaken Lest an evil step be taken,- Lest the dead who is forsaken May not be happy now.

**Ballad of the Moon**

The moon came into the forge in her bustle of flowering nard. The little boy stares at her, stares. The boy is staring hard. In the shaken air the moon moves her amrs, and shows lubricious and pure, her breasts of hard tin. "Moon, moon, moon, run! If the gypsies come,  they will use your heart  to make white necklaces and rings." "Let me dance, my little one. When the gypsies come,  they'll find you on the anvil  with your lively eyes closed tight.  "Moon, moon, moon, run! I can feelheir horses come." "Let me be, my little one, don't step on me, all starched and white!"

Closer comes the the horseman, drumming on the plain. The boy is in the forge; his eyes are closed. Through the olive grove come the gypsies, dream and bronze, their heads held high, their hooded eyes.

Oh, how the night owl calls, calling, calling from its tree! The moon is climbing through the sky with the child by the hand.

They are crying in the forge, all the gypsies, shouting, crying. The air is veiwing all, views all. The air is at the viewing.

Cinquain

**The Days of School**

School Days Crazy, boring Work! Work! Work! Too much work! The last days are always the best All done.

A friend

Friend Kind, helpful Cheering, instructing, caring Always there for you True

Free verse


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**Lost**

From the pit of my coldness You burn me with acid-filled glares Like I am nothing but garbage left to go stale Out here I have no shelter from the rain.

I wander hungrily through familiar streets Looking for somewhere to belong I am labelled as a leper amongst the sick For you do not want to see or hear my pain.

As I stand in the doorway of my despair I watch the world from it’s shadows I have become a phantom with no hope For I have ran out of people to blame.

**DEATH EMO**

He walks alone, In misery of others. Hiding in the shadows, Of the schools walls. When reaching a trip home, Swallowing what’s called a drug, There are always different kinds.

A fierce battle is fought when he gets home, More loss’s than wins Against his parents. For them he is nothing,

Rap

Busta Ryhmes- Arab Money

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Originally I never liked poetry and now I have really no mind change on it but I have learned some new types of poems and I have also leaned that rap is a poem.

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