So to kick things off, I thought I would submit for your reading pleasure a selection of poetry written by yours truly for my high school English class. I always loved English class because I could write all sorts of crazy stuff and the teachers would just eat it up! Except for Miss Wells. Miss Wells did not find my quirky writing style at all amusing. But my English teacher from 3rd period in 1992 loved it!
So, here it is. The assignment was to write a parody of a famous poem. I chose Edgar Allen Poe's "The Raven."
The Raving (Mad)
Once upon a morning pretty, as I'm feeling kinda' witty,
Cracking jokes about some book of really weird forgotten lore --
As I sat there, being funny, suddenly there came my buddy,
Saying that he's going to study, study for a high test score.
"It's and easy test," I muttered, "of which you want a high test score --
Study this and nothing more."
Startled at my bitter tone, and the way I gave a groan,
"Doubtless," said he, "you don't know just what you're for,
Caught in some bad situation along with the whole nation
As you stand by the bus station to buy chicken from the store!
Buying chicken from the frozen counter in the grocery store.
Buying that, and nothing more."
My teacher's comment was "Terminally weird! I love this!" I got an A+. This was, by far, my favorite class in high school. Where else could you turn in something like that and get an A? Poor Poe is spinning in his grave. I would have written more, but mocking a great poet is exhausting.
I remember writing this one while sitting on the bleachers watching my boyfriend at track practice. I honestly don't know why I was there. Watching people run in circles in the cold is not my idea of a good time. Plus, as I recall, it was pretty windy that day. He must have been my ride home from school. I don't remember ever going to the track ever again. Anyhow, here's the poem I wrote.
Feet pound hard on the
While the sharp wind
through the bodies of men
to beat the competition in blue.
That's just how I wrote it on the paper. All scattered like that. Mr. WhatsHisName loved it; thought I was a real deep thinker. Oh, those were the days!
For my final poem, if you could stand to read this far down, the assignment was to write a really terrible poem. No problem! I clearly excel at this!
I had a little puppy.
His fur was soft and brown.
He got a little jumpy,
And he ran into the street and got hit by a humongous Mack truck.