Monday, May 30, 2016

Poem Book

When I was a wee lass I wrote poems.  It was a very big deal apparently because my first grade teacher--who did not love everyone-- loved me, because of my poems, i think.  I would give them to her and she'd put a big fat scratch 'n sniff sticker on it and hang it on the wall for all to see.  Big deal. I felt proud. 

Thus, my mom bought me my own poem book.  And I loved it:

I think then, I thought white cats were the fanciest cats in the land. Because they are. Look at that creature sitting majestically on its wicker throne.

I took my poem-writing and book very seriously. VERY. SERIOUSLY.  And so should you:

"Jennifers poem book! Touch this and die."

I wrote in it a lot. Some were about the seasons or holidays, some about my family.  They weren't all masterpieces but some weren't half bad.

As the school year comes to a close and summertime approaches I thought these two were appropriate and basically express the same sentiment I continue to carry to this day on the subject(s):


 I know you don't need a translation as my cursive is flawless, but here it is anyway:

"School is such a pain, 
Especially when it's a day of rain.
When school starts I cry and cry,
When school lets out I want to fly/
Math is especially a bore,
Integers, changing decimals to a fraction, and more.
[I think that's a brag]
Homework is probably what I hate the most,
So I don't do it, and eat some toast.
It is now May 30 and I'm proud to say,
It's summertime, it's time to play!"

Look at that. Something like twenty-six years ago to the day I wrote that poem and sure enough, I feel the same way now. As does Julian. Kid does not love school. 

As a bonus I found one of the poems I'm most proud of it.  It's so good I awarded myself the Newberry Award Medal which, I don't know if you know, is pretty prestigious. I made it huge for you so you're sure to catch everything.

 In type:

I have a stinky sister,
She bawls and whines all day.
She thinks she has hard hard work
And she cries when she can't play.
I have to share a room with her,
(thank goodness not a bed)
She always bawls and bawls when someone
taps her on the head.
At night time when it's time for bed,
She snores so loudly! and I almost lose my head.
There is a lot more to tell about,
But I fear it'll take up the page,
So there's most of it about my sister,(She's in a stinky stage).

Wow. Just soak that in for a minute.



Optimistic Existentialist said...

This is were a young Emily Dickinson :)

)en said...

Ha! That's just what I was thinking. 😏 Thanks for the comment!

Ashley said...

LOVE the poems. You totally captured the feeling of school vs summer.

The Stinky Sister

)en said...

Thanks buddy. You don't smell as bad these days..

suvi said...

These poems are amazing. A regular Shel Silverstein.

)en said...

In my dreams! He was my favorite poet when I was a kid (obviously) and prob still is.