Warning: Extreme levels of 7th-grader sappiness

Eep! Almost embarassed to post this one. It's another heartfelt attempt at sincere poetry that I must have written at the very end of 7th grade. And it's baaaaaad.

The Last Day of School

Today is the day we say our goodbyes

Today is the day that some of us cry

The school year is over, it's come to an end

This year was great and we all made new friends

It went by so fast, you hardly could think

The first day came up and went by in a blink

Many are happy, some of us sad

Or some in the middle, but nobody's mad!

Summer awaits us, and now that we're free

We look back and think of the good memories

What lies ahead in the future next year?

Tougher assignments and homework I here

But now that it's over, I've come to realize

This year was special in everyone's eyes

When the bell rings and we start to depart

We know there'll always be a special place in our heart.

Hahaha. My favorite line is "Many are happy, some of us sad/Some in the middle, but nobody's mad!" I mean, this is probably and pretty accurate and poignant reflection on the last day of 7th grade. Most people are indeed happy, some are indeed sad, several fall somewhere on the middle of the emotional spectrum, but nobody is ever mad about school ending for the summer. Ever.

You're invited...(but I don't recommend you come)

Next time you're throwing a dinner party, consider sending this poem as your invitation:

Yucky Food

Would you like to come over?

I'll make you a meal

Of moldy cornmeal

And okra pie and fish guts on rye

Do you care for a drink?

Moldy and nasty scraps from the sink!

How 'bout dessert?

Moldy sherbet!

Ground up barf and pimple berries

Chocolate goat and squishy cherries

It will be fun! We'll make it a night

We'll have mayo soup, if that is alright

Our poison mushrooms are a tasty treat

We could even have some raw hamburger meat!

Yum, yum yum, we'll eat it up!

Frog legs on toast is what's for sup'

Oh. ... You can't you say?

Well please come back another day!

Your guests will appreciate your creativity, I'm sure. (except for the part where you used the word "moldy" 3 times in a row, they won't appreciate that).

Revival!

Hello blog, I'm back! I'm down at my parents house, which is where I had the original inspiration to blog my old 7th grade poems, and naturally I spent a good part of last night looking through old boxes of school stuff and notes and whatnot. I found, literally, a treasure trove of poems. As in, apparently in junior high, I participated in a poetry unit in English class in which I created a treasure box and wrote poems on "gold coins" to put in the treasure box. It's good stuff.



I also found some stories I wrote in 3rd grade, many of which are hilarious, so I'll probably do a little sub-feature on this blog soon, "Stories I wrote when I was 8." Stay tuned.

In the meantime, from the Poetry Treasure Box itself:

The Visitor

A visitor from Orbitville came and talked to me
He said, "I saw a funny sight, and I'm not sure what it might be

I parked above a field of green, posts reached into the air
Beings wearing matching shirts, ran from here to there

These beings, they were quite a sight, their heads looked really odd
With cages across their dirty faces, and their shoulders so very broad

They threw a weird shaped object, and they ran and jumped about
And these other beings around them, would start to scream and shout

I don't understand this planet, it makes no sense at all
A bunch of giants running around, throwing a funny shaped ball!"

I laughed and told the visitor, "What you saw's not to be feared!
That event was called the 'Superbowl,'" and with that he disappeared.

I actually am rather fond of this poem...I think it's quite good! My favorite part is how the Orbitville alien was so put off (seemingly) by the Superbowl that he vanished from Earth, perhaps never to return. I guess I was never a huge fan of football.

The inside of the poem treasure box, showing the gold coin surrounded by other treasure-like accouterments:

This is the story of frog named Ed

Oh, hi blog. Sorry to neglect you, but I had better things to do for a while, like have a social life and watch season one of Mad Men. But I haven't forgotten about you completely, blog. Here is one of the first poems I wrote - it was always one of my favorites:

Ed the Frog

This is the story of a frog named Ed
He had a really ugly head
The other frogs made fun of him
But Ed didn’t care about any of them

Then one day a little bee
Came up to Ed and said you see
The other frogs don’t have a clue
As to what’s inside the real you

Well Ed was dumb, a real big dolt
And so he took off like a bolt
He dove beneath the water blue
Where he discovered something new

The other frogs weren’t really frogs
Who sat upon a bunch of logs
They were fakes and frauds, but really keen!
And obviously, very very mean

The fakes had captured the other frogs
Who sat upon a bunch of logs
They tied them up and gagged them too
And took them in the water blue

Those awful frogs were really mean
As Ed the frog had just now seen
So Ed untied his fellow frogs
Who sat upon a bunch of logs

And so despite his ugly head
This brave young frog that we call Ed
Has now become the forest hero
And the mean old frogs are worth less than zero

I told you things would turn out right
Exclaimed the bee with all his might
So even if your looks could shatter
It’s what’s inside that really matters

This is my 27th post on this blog! And while I'm nowhere close to out of material yet, I've probably already posted the majority of my best work from my 7th grade poem books. There are a few real gems left, but I can't promise that everything I post henceforth will be quite as brilliant as Billy Fuzz, The BSC, or Follow Your Heart. Some of the remaining poems are just cute little ditties, like this: (sung to the tune of "Oh My Darling, Clementine.")

Dirty Clothes

In my room, by my closet
There's a pile of dirty clothes
It gets bigger every day
And the end nobody knows

Dirty clothes, dirty clothes
Pick them off the dirty floor
Put them down the laundry shoot
Dirty clothes are no more

C'est fin.

Guest Blogger: The Cold Sheet Blues

Here's another favorite from guest blogger Isaac. If you want, read it as I do, and picture a young Isaac, curled up under his cold, cold sheets until the wee hours of the morning, desperately trying to get warm and penning this song.

Cold Sheet Blues

Stumbled into bed at a quarter to three
I’d come from Alabama with a banjo on my knee
Tired to the bone well here’s the news
I got a bad case of the cold sheet blues

Doing the refrigerator roll from left to right
No sleep in sight for me tonight
Counting sheep by ones and twos
Cause I got a bad case of the cold sheet blues

My covers are quite ample
For such a little runt
But how good can a comforter be
With Garfield on the front?

Teeth are chattering like gossiping geese
Why can’t my blanket be made of fleece?
Banged my knee now I’ll have a bruise
Oh, I got a bad case of the cold sheet blues

Numbers on the wall read a quarter to five
I need at least three hours to survive
What’s a man got to do to get a snooze?
Stop thinking ‘bout his cold sheet blues

Dayquil or Nyquil, which one to choose?
‘Cause I got a bad case of the cold sheet blues
Those low down (yeah low down) downtown (yeah downtown)
Cold feet cold nose cold fingers cold toes
Cold sheet blues… yeah

Isaac promises that there is an actual recording of this song, and as soon as we can get it converted from cassette tape to digital format, I guarantee an audio blog of the "Cold Sheet Blues."

Hank the Heroic

Have I been negligent in updating this blog in recent weeks? Yes! Do I feel bad about that? No, I was on vacation and had better things to do for once. Will I return with another epic tale that pits greed against heroism? Of course!

Heroic Hank and the Missing Eggroll

Heroic Hank was quite a fellow
Although he was far from mellow

He cracked cases far and wide
He dusted prints and even spied!

But nothing, nothing, beats the case
Of what Hank calls the "eggroll race"

Now Chung's Chinese was quite the spot
Their food was fresh and spicy hot

But theft occurred one dreary night
A thief broke in with all his might

He broke into this place of food
(at least he wasn't in the nude!)

He looked around and then he saw
An eggroll, and he was in awe

He put it in a burlap sack
And then he snuck out through the back

Heroic Hank was called to the job
And he was followed by an angry mob

How someone could commit such a vicious crime
Was unimaginable to the average mind!

But Heroic Hank was used to this
And so he set out to find the eggroll that was so missed

Hank searched high and Hank searched low
In the sewer, Hank did go

But he finally caught on to a clue
A bit of cabbage stuck to his shoe!

Ah-ha! he said, I'm on to you!
For this bit of cabbage stuck to my shoe

Tell's me where this thief could be
He's hiding in a hemlock tree!

Hank was right and so he caught
That mean old thief who hadn't thought

About how important the eggroll was
And how the city had acquired an ugly buzz

I'm sorry, said the thief, in spite
Of the crime he'd committed that dreary night

It's okay, Hank said with glee
Everyone makes mistakes you see!

But do not fret and do not frown
Just apologize to the entire town!

And so he did and the eggroll was okay
And Heroic Hank saved the day

Heroic Hank must have impeccable deductive skills...I don't know how he figured that cabbage on his shoe would led him to finding the thief in a Hemlock Tree! If that's detective work, I'd make one crappy sleuth. I guess that's why he's called Heroic Hank and why I'm not called Heroic Julia.