Here's a poem I wrote about Granny Cash. Our assignment in class was an 8 line poem . Write your own...
Vernice
My grandmother grew to four feet ten before she started shrinking
tipped the scales at seventy something,
lived forty years on half a kidney though
all I knew was she ate yellow tomatoes
because they contain less acid.
Crouched over the strapping frame of her husband
when she outlived him, looked up,
sighed, and said “he was a swell guy.”
30 comments:
Kitty
I think she had red-and gray hair.
She had a comb
that was supposed to change your hair color.
I would comb her hair and say,
"I'm going to color it...goulash!"
She pretended to cry.
I laughed like a 4-year-old witch.
There was always a song going on.
"Brm..brp, brp, brp, brmmmm..."
He hummed and drummed the oilcloth-covered table.
He always got out the peg games.
He always got out the number thing.
He watched us solve the puzzles.
He was sure
that all the grandchildren were above average.
Grandpa Joe took us shopping.
(I think it was Christmas)
He watched me agonize
over the Evening in Paris, the cheesy necklace, the embroidered handkerchiefs.
Back and forth, gazing at the coins in my hand.
When we got home, he said,
(a little wild-eyed)
"What a shopper! No kiddin'!
That girl knows how to find a bargain!"
Wow, you're reeling those out like a bad fisherman. (I don't knwo waht that means, really) I like your first one best.
I just have to get back to work. But I didn'twant to leave anyone out.
There once was a girl from St. Paul
Who wanted to go to the mall.
But Josh (who was humorous)
tried to be non-consumerous,
so they didn't go shopping at all.
Cathy~
Kudos to you! I like them all...but, the second is my favorite. Sweet and funny. (smile)
She's a poet and I didn't know it!
Those are all great poems...Cathy, you must be done the the bakesale spreadsheets!
There once was a man from Algona
whose microwave gave out a moan, a
sigh of surrender
to a stove or a blender;
No, a grill! Who now sits on the throne-Ah!
There once was a pair from the Bluffs
Who were not exactly car buffs
with one car on the brink
and one old enough to drink,
Wifey said, "That's it! I've HAD ENOUGH!'
Our van's passenger-side door won't shut now. We're holding it shut with a bungee cord. Where's our double-wide?
That's awesome!
There once was a girl at a church
who left all her friends in the lurch
writing crap on computer
'cause her tasks didn't suit'er.
Those spreadsheets can be such a ... birch?
OK, I'm done. I have to work. Someone else write some real poems. Or attack each other with bad limericks. I'm going to have to stay late.
There once was a woman who went
to the site again when she was spent.
She said, "I'm such a dog,
spending time on this blog,
I should give it all up for Lent!"
hey, does anyone have a scanner? can you scan the family address list and email it to me? mine is gone.
don't pomes gotta rhyme? some kinda fishy pentameter goin on aroun here.
An ugly sky-
a crash of bird hit tree now
beak broke!
haiku baby
the real Johnny Danger is working here in Madison, just so you know. he still sucks.
Hey!! I'm the "real" Johnny Danger and I live on the edge of the world of dicey fast movers. Who's this peckerhead in Madison? He can't rite pomes like me.
he's a DJ who used to work in Omaha (the old cheesey 'Danger, in the morning commercials') and now works in Madison.
Ode to Joe
There was a fifth child,
a daughter
Who said, "This seems not like
it ought - ter.
The fourth one at home
has a pool table, six thrones, a
drum set, and big home...
buy what you need to make your food hotter."
By the way... don't you guys have jobs?
it's called multi-tasking
it's actually called procrastinating . . . with flair
My family sucks at poem writing
compared to ultimate fighting
when they pick up a pen
again and again
everything that comes out is - unexciting
There once was a young man named Frank
who had no head hair - not a hank.
He wanted to save it,
then said, "Hell, I'll shave it."
And now his head's totally blank
There once was a young man named Frank
who had no head hair - not a hank.
He wanted to save it,
then said, "Hell, I'll shave it."
And now his head's totally blank
I once had togo to work for 6 hours
But never do much
Beyond a 6th grader's mental powers
So today we out to lunch
Then chit-chatted a bunch
Now I'm bored
So I look at this blog
And I think to the Lord,
"I didn't go to church on Ash Wednesday,
will you turn me into a frog?"
Don't tell Grandpa I didn't go
I have a night class
My schedule I will show
I need it to pass
Don't give me no sass
Oh, Ellen
you're such a felon
Grandpa reads the blog
better hide in a log.
The Olympic sport I would choose
Is posting political views
It takes lots of guts
To compete with you Nuts
Who refuse to take a walk in my shoes
I admire the passion and pride
You show in defending your side
But red or blue
I learn something new
Whether your view is salient or snide
This sport needs sharp mind and strong will
A thick hide and a siver-tongued skill
The top athlete knows
A gold medal goes
To the sage who makes others sound shrill
There once was a boy named Ed
"It's his birthday!" we all said
He turned 35
So he went to a dive
And spent the next day in bed.
And that was before my first cup of coffee.
Happy Birthday Ed!
Monica
Monica have a pot of coffee and get back...
Ed Happy Birthday!!!
A mistress to this blog I am,
It's compelling.computer.communication
I think it's tuff not to stay in touch,
this way.
50 more minutes for Pete and Ed, forget it, I'm going to BED!
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