A dumb poem
Is this the most pointless poem ever? And why did I write - much less post it? I have no idea.
Creeping over a landscape of silhouettes when I,
Laid a look on the moon’s white eye
It asked, “Why do you go this way of dirt and cacti?”
“For a pretty girl,” I replied.
“For a pretty girl,” said I.
“She must be as fair as a blossom in spring,” she he (the moon, I mean)
“for you to lope along the path, bereft of brook or stream.”
“Ah, moon,” I did laugh, “your eyes must be withered and lean.”
“for I’m standing by a cool creek, in which does your light gleam.”
“In which does your light gleam.”
“Upon my word!” the moon did bleat. “My eyes have done me wrong.”
“Go thy way, ugly-headed-lad, I think I’ll write a song.”
And so I did walk the land, ‘tween shadows thin and long.
Until I found the door of my girl, pretty as a song.
Pretty as a song.
Please forget you saw this and read the next post. It's much more worthwhile.
Creeping over a landscape of silhouettes when I,
Laid a look on the moon’s white eye
It asked, “Why do you go this way of dirt and cacti?”
“For a pretty girl,” I replied.
“For a pretty girl,” said I.
“She must be as fair as a blossom in spring,” she he (the moon, I mean)
“for you to lope along the path, bereft of brook or stream.”
“Ah, moon,” I did laugh, “your eyes must be withered and lean.”
“for I’m standing by a cool creek, in which does your light gleam.”
“In which does your light gleam.”
“Upon my word!” the moon did bleat. “My eyes have done me wrong.”
“Go thy way, ugly-headed-lad, I think I’ll write a song.”
And so I did walk the land, ‘tween shadows thin and long.
Until I found the door of my girl, pretty as a song.
Pretty as a song.
Please forget you saw this and read the next post. It's much more worthwhile.
7 Comments:
I don't really like poetry anyways so it's all the same to me. So...on to your next post.
What?!
That was a cool poem.
I love poetry and stories centered around the moon...have you ever read that children's book, The Moon's Pajamas?
Thanks guys but if you follow the poem's narrative, it's about a guy who's walking along at night to go see his girlfriend. The moon asks him where he's going and why he's walking along a dry road. The guy points out that the road isn't dry at all (there's a creek right next to the road) and the moon stands corrected.
Not exactly Yeats.
I think I wrote it because I came across my teenage poetry recently... Yikes! Talk about pretentious. Has anyone else here written any angst-ridden teenage poetry. Maybe I'll get the nerve and post a bit of mine someday...
I loved it, and not just cus I'm your mom.
You know I like poems that rhyme, and the picture of the moon "bleating" was great. Very charming and dorky. Great combination.
your poetry always seems to have a girl in it.
Levi,
Never poetry, but other old stuff has come back to bite me. Once on a trip up to Spokane, visiting Joe's Grandma Hope,(who saves everything,) I was able to read through all the letters I'd written her, dating back to like, 1982. Talk about emberrasing! What a complete self-absorbed dork I was! I'm not kidding, it was really hard getting through some of them. Get it? Hope so.
no Tia Me, its, make sense? hope so.
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