Intro to Poetry and Fiction 101

Yeah...more extended metaphor poetry.

Intro to Poetry and Fiction 101

I write the poetry
so that I can get to the fiction.
It's like having to eat the vegetables
to get to dessert.
With every bite of that overcooked
beatnik Brussels sprout
you are being watched just to make sure
that you don't hide the next one.

I take it because I have to, writing the
short lines,
the forced rhymes
because if I choke down enough,
that splendid, delicious
short fiction double layer cake
will be waiting for me.

With every spinach stanza

asparagus alliteration and eggplant
enjambment, I get one step closer to
the pecan prose pie
that I have been eying
since I first sat down.

Avocat

Yeah, this time I had to write an extended simile or metaphor poem.
God I hate poetry.

Avocat

Lawyers have thick skin
like that of an avocado.
They have to because if they don't
they back down and if they back down
they are weak. Weak lawyers
don't win cases.

When the lawyers go home
they peel back their thick skin,
revealing what is inside and
some are mushy, feeling the compassion
that deflects off of their thick skin
in the courtroom.
Some, though
are rotten to the core,
the putrid stench of their verbose persecutions
and exaggerated defenses
trailing them everywhere.

Some lawyers are smooth
They duck between accusations and pointed fingers,
arriving skillfully at a well deserved verdict.
But some are slimy.
They grease the bar and barely slip through
using their slicked back hair
and slick black suits to outshine
the work they didn't do.

Some lawyers are fresh with new ideas
and sharp-tongued statements
and some are old, stale
with no originality to their name.
But all lawyers are like avocados
and the French have known this
all along.

Bored in Portugal

So basically, our poetry group finished peer editing early and decided to do a write-around poem in class. This is what we ended up with.

Bored in Portugal

I like my Australian power pop vintage
And my favorite bands to have neon girl hair
and the guitars to have two necks
Just because I can.
How about that?

But I like my Swedish power pop modern
with songs about purple hair
and guys who say "how 'bout it then?"
while sporting leather trousers
Just because I can
and for no reason whatsoever.
How about that!

My Poetic Masterpiece

This is easily the best poem I have ever written in my life.
My teacher wanted an 'animal' poem...and here goes!

My Grandmother's Farm

I stood on the third slat of the rickety, wooden fence.
Wide eyed, curious and confused,
I stared at the llama...
and it stared back.
It's head and feet were tiny
against the fur-fattened body, neck and legs
and it's eyes were glassy
like the marbles I always left around the house.
After a few minutes, I stuck my tongue out
hoping the funny looking animal would mimic
but it just looked at me the way my father does
when I accidentally-on-purpose drop my broccoli on the floor.
I grinned and reached my hand out
closing my grubby fist around some of the llama's matted fur
and without any warning
it spat in my face.

Crap Poetry

This is my sad, sad attempt to write poetry for my English class - there's a reason I don't write poetry. God...ick.

Leaving One

In the dark of the room, two arms, both thin, share an armrest
elbow to elbow, wrist to wrist,
their owners obscured by the chair backs.
A flash of fatal light and a loud 'boom'
cause the hand with the chipped nail polish to flinch.
The arm with the leather-cuffed wrist reaches over
covering the back of the other hand.
Slowly, the bare wrist turns,
stopping only when its palm faces upwards.
Now it's palm to palm and as the fingers lace together,
almost perfectly,
the two separate arms melt together.