Pathet-Trek Poetry Thread
- Thread starter iBender
- Start date
Why Farmers Cook Rabbits (or, The Truth)
You may be ignorant, but us country folks
Know that Myxomatosis was one giant hoax
For while you've heard stories of sweet, helpful bunnies
The rabbits we know care only for monies.
It's just like the critters to pull off a scam
To claim life insurance pay off of the Man
And where were the ones who supposedly died?
They've not gone to heaven - I tell you, they lied!
They were in Florida - flew all the way
Out of our sight on a mass holiday.
And when those that stayed had been grated the money
They went on a better one; thought it was funny
It's frankly outrageous how these creatures live
The tricks and the schemes that they get away with
There's but one solution, so I'll tell you what
We'll teach 'em a lesson - get 'em into the pot"
You may be ignorant, but us country folks
Know that Myxomatosis was one giant hoax
For while you've heard stories of sweet, helpful bunnies
The rabbits we know care only for monies.
It's just like the critters to pull off a scam
To claim life insurance pay off of the Man
And where were the ones who supposedly died?
They've not gone to heaven - I tell you, they lied!
They were in Florida - flew all the way
Out of our sight on a mass holiday.
And when those that stayed had been grated the money
They went on a better one; thought it was funny
It's frankly outrageous how these creatures live
The tricks and the schemes that they get away with
There's but one solution, so I'll tell you what
We'll teach 'em a lesson - get 'em into the pot"
April is poetry month and I just finished teaching all kinds of poetry to my students, and I have one that they wrote that blew my mind a little. A little background first: This is a 2nd grade class in the Bronx. One of their core reading skills is visualizing, and I wanted to do something fun, so I brought in different music for them to listen to and practice visualizing -- as we listened they'd raise their hands and share what the music made them see, where it took them, what they smelled, tasted, felt, etc. We listened first to an upbeat song, "Emabhaceni" by Miriam Makeba, and then to something more mellow, "Samskyeti" by Sigur Ros (I didn't bring anything in English because I wanted them to just get a feel for the music). Then we used what we visualized to write a "Five Senses poem" (it's a standard poetry writing exercise for their age level in which they are given the sentence starters "I see..., I hear..., I smell..., I taste..., I feel..." and complete the lines to make a poem). Before they write their own we do one together as a class, and I asked them which song they wanted to use. To my surprise, they chose the sad Sigur Ros song. This is the poem they wrote:
I see stone walls, wooden tables and chairs
I hear people crying
I smell roses
I taste death and the wind
I feel calm
They named the poem, "The Funeral." Pretty fucking deep for a bunch of 7 and 8 year olds.
It made one of the little girls cry! The poems they wrote individually were almost all just as heartfelt and deep, and it was amazing to see what different things the same piece of music could inspire in little children. For their individual poems we listened to "Rhapsody in Blue," and I had kids writing about everything from parades and circuses to volcanoes and dinners with their families. As an interesting aside, that particular song seemed to make a lot of the kids "taste" chocolate, and, actually, that makes sense to me.
On a lighter note, in the next class I taught that lesson in the kids listening to Miriam Makeba saw things like "people dancing," and "bright colors." When we turned on Gershwin Rachel raised her hand and said, "I see white people."
I see stone walls, wooden tables and chairs
I hear people crying
I smell roses
I taste death and the wind
I feel calm
They named the poem, "The Funeral." Pretty fucking deep for a bunch of 7 and 8 year olds.
It made one of the little girls cry! The poems they wrote individually were almost all just as heartfelt and deep, and it was amazing to see what different things the same piece of music could inspire in little children. For their individual poems we listened to "Rhapsody in Blue," and I had kids writing about everything from parades and circuses to volcanoes and dinners with their families. As an interesting aside, that particular song seemed to make a lot of the kids "taste" chocolate, and, actually, that makes sense to me.
On a lighter note, in the next class I taught that lesson in the kids listening to Miriam Makeba saw things like "people dancing," and "bright colors." When we turned on Gershwin Rachel raised her hand and said, "I see white people."
Oh, and here's a poem I wrote. I did this a few years ago in one of my psych lecture classes at NYU, as my friend Sonia fell asleep beside me:
Sleepy Sonia suddenly set sail aboard a silvery steel sloop,
Sluggishly steering said silvery sloop southward,
She sat staring sweetly at a soaring seagull swoop.
Slowly Sonia's sloop swerved and swayed,
A slothful sea-faring steed,
So soon Sonia snoozed and swooned in her slumber
Over a sexy Sicilian named Steve!
Sleepy Sonia suddenly set sail aboard a silvery steel sloop,
Sluggishly steering said silvery sloop southward,
She sat staring sweetly at a soaring seagull swoop.
Slowly Sonia's sloop swerved and swayed,
A slothful sea-faring steed,
So soon Sonia snoozed and swooned in her slumber
Over a sexy Sicilian named Steve!
I digress
at best
what? a bird?
at best
what? a bird?
I do not know who you are; are you who you are?
I know you are love and loved by lovingly lovelessness passions
but who do you love that love is lovingly lost to possessed poisons of prose?
I do not know if you play me like a player or paste me in the corner of the wall in the sky?
I will touch you and taste you and taste your touch with life's endless loving lusts of living.
I know you are love and loved by lovingly lovelessness passions
but who do you love that love is lovingly lost to possessed poisons of prose?
I do not know if you play me like a player or paste me in the corner of the wall in the sky?
I will touch you and taste you and taste your touch with life's endless loving lusts of living.
simple swimming and eating the sky parts of one others showing who we are and who we will be
I can tell sores of poco's pasted in pie's oft lost in victorious victors of new or old and being so bold that is because
hit the hight of light as illegally meek and morning work is woken up during but past the passes are.
the right of systematically polls of ponds pounded in pornos pussy fluffs found floundering mostly off.
I will go on .. errr and so what ,, so what ever is so what ..
I can tell sores of poco's pasted in pie's oft lost in victorious victors of new or old and being so bold that is because
hit the hight of light as illegally meek and morning work is woken up during but past the passes are.
the right of systematically polls of ponds pounded in pornos pussy fluffs found floundering mostly off.
I will go on .. errr and so what ,, so what ever is so what ..
where we go where we have been all the same as now.
when we get there we are here when here we are getting there.
would light in the cosmic mind of mine blind the binding that binds us together
so what is what so
creating the late lighting in the nite neither rides or raids what was there of theirs
when ever endless meaning has more meaning then endlessness then the poem ends
when we get there we are here when here we are getting there.
would light in the cosmic mind of mine blind the binding that binds us together
so what is what so
creating the late lighting in the nite neither rides or raids what was there of theirs
when ever endless meaning has more meaning then endlessness then the poem ends
I'm not a wordsmith
Poems are hard to write
If I put in a bit of effort though
I should get one going all right
Sitting in the office
Working by myself
Hardly any thing to do
I picked a bad word there - self
Cruising around the forums
Baiting and having fun
What better way to spend the day
than - ph crap, I have to run
To the toilet, I need
to defacate.
Excuse me for a moment
I dare not hesitate
Poems are hard to write
If I put in a bit of effort though
I should get one going all right
Sitting in the office
Working by myself
Hardly any thing to do
I picked a bad word there - self
Cruising around the forums
Baiting and having fun
What better way to spend the day
than - ph crap, I have to run
To the toilet, I need
to defacate.
Excuse me for a moment
I dare not hesitate
How she doin'?
Well, not named Steve and only half-Sicilian, but... say hello from me.
I like the idea
behind this thread.
However, speaking in rhymes
really hurts my head.
Don't get me started on metre
It's a pain in the butt
So hard to balance out sentence length
Blah blah blah BUTT
behind this thread.
However, speaking in rhymes
really hurts my head.
Don't get me started on metre
It's a pain in the butt
So hard to balance out sentence length
Blah blah blah BUTT
What's wrong with the metre, the foot or
the ounce; Or the litre? - Hi,
I'll Tweet ya!
(Nice to meet ya!
)
You heard it from the mouth or the seen the screen
or shout! It's fresh off the press yes best left off da chest
not stressed about da head soo stoned light hearted an'
fancy free saying 'wassup!' - 'Ya get me'
U shoe lea on P's and Q's so please excuse
the tude' I use, it's me - not rude!; but
true, no matter the chatter the this that
and the shizz that ghez'splattered... Alright...
the ounce; Or the litre? - Hi,
I'll Tweet ya!
(Nice to meet ya!
)You heard it from the mouth or the seen the screen
or shout! It's fresh off the press yes best left off da chest
not stressed about da head soo stoned light hearted an'
fancy free saying 'wassup!' - 'Ya get me'
U shoe lea on P's and Q's so please excuse
the tude' I use, it's me - not rude!; but
true, no matter the chatter the this that
and the shizz that ghez'splattered... Alright...
Last edited:
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