These are some of the poems that I wrote in my senior year for my A.P. Lit class. My teacher didn't give most of them back, so I'll post what I have or can remember.
My Twelfth-Grade Poetry
A Book is a Sandwich
A book is sandwich;
It is satisfying.
It soothes your stomache's itch;
Its content stops your dying.
It will fill you up
with all its good stuff,
though of tea it may not be a cup
as sometimes the chewing can be quite tough.
Sandwiches come with varied compositions
with several suitable for all possible dispositions.
Some herald from the kitchen
and some come from a musician.
Some are thick, some are thin,
Some make you sick, some help you win.
And, though some be made by those with mullets,
In the end, they will all fill your gullet.
It is satisfying.
It soothes your stomache's itch;
Its content stops your dying.
It will fill you up
with all its good stuff,
though of tea it may not be a cup
as sometimes the chewing can be quite tough.
Sandwiches come with varied compositions
with several suitable for all possible dispositions.
Some herald from the kitchen
and some come from a musician.
Some are thick, some are thin,
Some make you sick, some help you win.
And, though some be made by those with mullets,
In the end, they will all fill your gullet.
Fire
Fire is dangerous;
My anger is too.
If you play with fire
It will kill you.
My anger is too.
If you play with fire
It will kill you.
Flower
Life is a flower;
It's easy to squish.
It only lasts an hour;
Then decomposes. Ish.
It's easy to squish.
It only lasts an hour;
Then decomposes. Ish.
Yeti Yeti
Oh Yeti Yeti, how do you do?
The way you chase me makes me blue.
I run and run but you run too;
why do you chase me like you do?
Do you enjoy the taste of flesh,
or is it my eyes that make you dash?
Perhaps you'll shove my brain through a mesh
after opening my skull with a smash?
Either way, I'm sure I'll cry,
unless you I can make to die.
Or wait, is it possible, could it be true?
You wish me only to tie your shoe?
Nope, I'm wrong. You really do
wish to cook me into a delicious stew.
The way you chase me makes me blue.
I run and run but you run too;
why do you chase me like you do?
Do you enjoy the taste of flesh,
or is it my eyes that make you dash?
Perhaps you'll shove my brain through a mesh
after opening my skull with a smash?
Either way, I'm sure I'll cry,
unless you I can make to die.
Or wait, is it possible, could it be true?
You wish me only to tie your shoe?
Nope, I'm wrong. You really do
wish to cook me into a delicious stew.
Life is Like a Piece of Chrome
Life is like a piece of chrome,
Sometimes left in the rain outside your home.
It contains a few spots and an occasional smear
But even so, you still hold it dear;
For the rest of it shines and is worth every dime.
Though belches of smoke and loud noises it emits,
Look how it shimmers as down the street you do flit.
Just apply some good polish then open the throttle up,
And watch as crowds of spectators gather to give you the cup.
Sometimes cold, sometimes hot, that chrome has seen every spot.
No piece of chrome is quite the same,
And in some cases it can be quite strange,
Distorting reflections all along the frame
And to different dimensions as your perspective does change.
The external reaction doesn't really matter though;
Because it will still get you wherever you need to go.
And even in the deep dark night,
Your chrome shall still sparkle with white delight
For though the Earth may be in the way
The stars will still shine anyway.
And those same stars will always shine,
Insuring that your ride will always be fine.
So when your chrome gets dull, never fear:
Just spend the time to apply some polish,
And remember no mater what to hold your chrome dear;
for like a lamp, that chrome will fulfill your wish
And no matter how many things go amiss, your life shall always be bliss.
Sometimes left in the rain outside your home.
It contains a few spots and an occasional smear
But even so, you still hold it dear;
For the rest of it shines and is worth every dime.
Though belches of smoke and loud noises it emits,
Look how it shimmers as down the street you do flit.
Just apply some good polish then open the throttle up,
And watch as crowds of spectators gather to give you the cup.
Sometimes cold, sometimes hot, that chrome has seen every spot.
No piece of chrome is quite the same,
And in some cases it can be quite strange,
Distorting reflections all along the frame
And to different dimensions as your perspective does change.
The external reaction doesn't really matter though;
Because it will still get you wherever you need to go.
And even in the deep dark night,
Your chrome shall still sparkle with white delight
For though the Earth may be in the way
The stars will still shine anyway.
And those same stars will always shine,
Insuring that your ride will always be fine.
So when your chrome gets dull, never fear:
Just spend the time to apply some polish,
And remember no mater what to hold your chrome dear;
for like a lamp, that chrome will fulfill your wish
And no matter how many things go amiss, your life shall always be bliss.
My Tenth-Grade Poetry
These are some poems that I had to write back in tenth grade for an assignment.
"The Most Powerful Creature"
The modest skunk has no fear
for the entire forest cringes at the thought of his rear.
All others veer out of his way
because of their tremendous fear of his spray
Deadly accurate for up to twelve feet,
if you get hit, you won't smell too sweet.
So when you see a white stripe on black, beware,
for the world's most powerful creature goes there.
for the entire forest cringes at the thought of his rear.
All others veer out of his way
because of their tremendous fear of his spray
Deadly accurate for up to twelve feet,
if you get hit, you won't smell too sweet.
So when you see a white stripe on black, beware,
for the world's most powerful creature goes there.
"Unstoppable"
You can't stop me,
I will succeeded.
I won't even stop
If you break my knees.
You can try at noon,
But that's way too soon.
Maybe at three-thirty?
Nope, to early for me!
It's nine o'clock,
and I still won't stop.
I'll keep rolling on,
past the break of dawn.
At six A.M.
You'd better not try again.
In fact, you'd better give up,
'Cause I will not stop.
I'll keep going up
'til I reach the top.
On Monday, Tuesday,
Wednesday-Thursday-Friday
I'll keep on going,
And I'll do it my way.
I plan to win this game,
And you will see,
You're insane
If you think you'll stop me.
Now, it's about time to end this poem,
Because you probably have to get back home.
So good-bye, my friend, I guess this is
The end.
I will succeeded.
I won't even stop
If you break my knees.
You can try at noon,
But that's way too soon.
Maybe at three-thirty?
Nope, to early for me!
It's nine o'clock,
and I still won't stop.
I'll keep rolling on,
past the break of dawn.
At six A.M.
You'd better not try again.
In fact, you'd better give up,
'Cause I will not stop.
I'll keep going up
'til I reach the top.
On Monday, Tuesday,
Wednesday-Thursday-Friday
I'll keep on going,
And I'll do it my way.
I plan to win this game,
And you will see,
You're insane
If you think you'll stop me.
Now, it's about time to end this poem,
Because you probably have to get back home.
So good-bye, my friend, I guess this is
The end.
"Hair"
When you're with women, beware
if you ever make a comment about their hair!
They go crazy, psycho, hyper
Its like they're all back in diapers.
Explosions, explosions, they all go boom!
The very sound of it shakes the room.
The ground jumps, the roof falls,
the blasting force could crack the walls.
I suggest you avoid this situation at all costs,
unless you wish for your life to be lost.
So if you're ever asked, "Honey, how's my hair?"
Remember to take great care.
If nothing else, just don't reply,
"It looks the same to me, honey pie."
if you ever make a comment about their hair!
They go crazy, psycho, hyper
Its like they're all back in diapers.
Explosions, explosions, they all go boom!
The very sound of it shakes the room.
The ground jumps, the roof falls,
the blasting force could crack the walls.
I suggest you avoid this situation at all costs,
unless you wish for your life to be lost.
So if you're ever asked, "Honey, how's my hair?"
Remember to take great care.
If nothing else, just don't reply,
"It looks the same to me, honey pie."
"True Beauty"
Some say that beauty goes only skin deep,
But I say this beauty goes through and through.
When I see it, my will I cannot keep,
And there is only one thing I can do.
For this love is like the November frost,
Elegant and fragile, and yet still strong,
And I must possess it at any cost,
Because without it I cannot last long.
It is what keeps me running without stop;
Keeps me rolling on all through the school year;
Keeps my energy levels at the top;
And helps me to overcome all my fear.
It's so good it must be made by fairies.
Man I love my cheesecake with strawberries.
But I say this beauty goes through and through.
When I see it, my will I cannot keep,
And there is only one thing I can do.
For this love is like the November frost,
Elegant and fragile, and yet still strong,
And I must possess it at any cost,
Because without it I cannot last long.
It is what keeps me running without stop;
Keeps me rolling on all through the school year;
Keeps my energy levels at the top;
And helps me to overcome all my fear.
It's so good it must be made by fairies.
Man I love my cheesecake with strawberries.