Insert Horrid Poem Title Here

This will be an ugly poem.
There will be lines far too long to belong with all the rest,
Or too
Short,
Not to mention
Atrocious choices of enjamb
Ment. I will probably stretch
For wretched rhymes
That will fetch
And catch your attention.
I will most likely refer
To Homer's Aeneid,
Or attempt artistry by breaking
CAPITALIZATION RULES
and, utterly; abusing! punct'uation?
But somewhere towards the end,
I'll whisper you between my ugly lines,
And then they will be beautiful.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm incredibly proud of this poem. It's horrible, but it's horrible on purpose, so it's not really horrible at all. :) And it's funny and witty and then I even have some sentiment thrown in at the end. Yeah. I really like this one.

Eight Utterly Exhausting Days a Week

This about accurately describes this week's school/work/church schedule (as demonstrated in my lack of blog posts since last week.)



Someday I will have free time again...

Eight Belated Days a Week

Alas, I am late again. So this week's song seemed rather appropriate.



Haha.

(It was my dad's idea. He's cleverer than I am.)

Good Grief, Melissa

So I've got this Bible.

I, of course, love the Bible because it's the Word of God. Duh. But I have a particular affinity for this one Bible. It's maroon bonded leather with my name in gold letters on the front cover, it's got a marvelous concordance, and best of all, it has these fantastically wide margins. I can write a whole paragraph next to a verse if I so desire (provided I write small... but you know me. I DO write paragraphs. Frequently). It's BEAUTIFUL. I love this Bible.

However, my lovely Bible is currently being repaired on the other side of the country because its binding broke.

SIGH.

I'm stuck with this old Bible I've had since about the fifth grade. The first page of Jeremiah is ripping out, and it has none of my notes in it. I've complained about it more than once in the last month.

And that makes me a rotten, terrible person.

Do you know how lucky I am to live in a day and age where the ENTIRE BIBLE is available all together? I can't imagine what the early church would have given for a bound book full of every inspired writing ever. Not only that, I can buy this book for five bucks at Walmart!! EVERYTHING I NEED TO KNOW TO GET TO HEAVEN!! FOR FIVE DOLLARS!!

I'm ridiculous. Thank you, Lord, for giving me access to Your Word so easily. It's a blessing I take for granted way too often.

...But if I can get my beautiful one back soon, that'd be cool. :)

Eight Days a Week-- "Got to Get You Into My Life"

I'm just feeling this one this week. Sorry, no literary geekouts.

From Emily

I beg your pardon, Modern World,
‘Twas never your design
To rip the writings of a Girl--
Line from heartfelt line;
I wrote them only for Myself!
You’re never meant to see!
So criticize me not, dear World,
Though Death has stopped for-- me!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Yes, I am in school. But I am also in Creative Writing, and we're supposed to work on a fun writing project if we're done with actual assignments. Which means I can blog. Yay!)

One of my biggest English pet peeves is people who criticize Emily Dickinson. She's not my favorite poet by any stretch of the imagination, but the thing about her is she was never published in her lifetime. She didn't WANT her poems published. Every time I read a Dickinson poem I feel like I'm intruding on the private life that she never intended anyone to see. And I don't feel like anybody has the right to criticize that. She wasn't writing for you, stupid English critic. She was writing for her.

So. I channeled her and got her opinion on it. Hahaha. I tried to mirror her rhythms and her random capitalization and punctuation. It's not the best poem I've ever written, but I enjoy it. :)

Eight Days a Week... Literature Style

(I know what you're thinking. Eight Days a Week was yesterday. I forgot. My apologies.)

Sometimes I have a good explanation for the song of the week. This is one of those times.

I'm in AP English and we just started studying Shakespeare's King Lear. In the first act of the play you realize really quickly that King Lear is extremely vain (or insecure... maybe a little of both); he is constantly looking for approval and overbearing admiration from those around him. At one point, he brings in his three daughters (Goneril, Regan, and Cordelia, if you want to know) and expects them to express their love for him in words-- whoever pleases him the most with their "love" will get the most land. The whole point is basically that he tries to put a numerical value on honor and affection and love.

So this is what I think of.



Hahaha.