We wrote a few poems in school. Some we parodied off of others, such as "In the Urns", while the rest are ones I came up with but we edited them in school:
In the Urns
On either side the bookcase lie
Two silver urns, and if you try
To open them, then you will find
A swarm of vampire bats inside;
They want to suck your blood.
So careful when you read a book
Think twice before you go and look
Inside that dark and shadowed nook,
Protect your blood.
Once I wished to go and study
What makes the Arno so damn muddy,
And baby chicks just so darn fuzzy
And unicorns so very lovely
Before the flood.
No one told me to beware
I didn’t know, it wasn’t fair
There were so many wee bats there,
They sucked my blood.
They sucked my blood so very fast,
Before a measly minute passed
They drank me to the very last
Red drops and left me there aghast:
I had no blood!
Imagine that you are sitting there
Upon your blood less derriere,
Would you not also pull your hair?
You’d have no blood.
T'was drunken up you understand
By those foul bats from that foul land
Beside the bookcase, where the flowers stand.
So careful were you put your hand
If you want your blood.
My bloodless body stays inside
Guarded by ruthless bats that hide
Within the urns. I will never die
Without my blood.
(parodied off of Lady of Shallot by Alfred Lord Tennyson)
Kan Kan
A monster with a gaping grin
In my garden once I saw
It was a hairy beast
And all he wanted was to feast
On roasted penguin paws
Could I revive within me
That recipe for paws
Such a great delight t’would win me
That I’d cook it for us all
Those tasty paws that special spice
And all who ate should call for more
And all should shudder when I swore
Of how the monster taught me thrice
To cook a meal so terribly nice
(a dash of pepper a rat quite dead)
for he on penguin paws hath fed
and drunk the blood of baby mice
( Parodied off of Kubla Khan by Samuel Taylor Coleridge)
The epic of Sir Bart
Sir Bart liked shaving with his sword
He has never cut himself right through
He almost chopped his left ear off
When shaving in his brand new Ford ®.
Sir Bart he loved his Ford® so much
He washed it every day with foam
Then drove to see that Roman loam
And once forgot which was the clutch;
He went careening off the road
And hit a frog so very hard
Its fluid mushed intestines marred
Sir Bart’s good name among the toads
(parodied off of --------)
(below are my early poems)
WATER
Water, Water, Water
It is flower fodder
It also keeps us clean
But oh what a pain it must have been
To be a crusader Frank
Gee they must have stank
For they never took a bath in their life
The man could not have been liked by his wife
THE NIGHT STAR
The night star
Is not paid attention to by those I bars
But can be seen
Were the moon light beam
Touches the dewy grass
Not door knobs of brass
It can be seen were the cows feed
Were you can drop a seed
And watch it grow into tree
And not be blocked by big ugly buildings
And other nasty things
SUMMER
The wind in the trees
Has slowed and the humming of the bees
Is louder than before
Summer is coming and who could ask for more
Summer is coming with no worries and no harms
It wants to hold the world in its tiny arms
And warm everyone’s hearts
The world knows when some comes dancing through the wood
And when its hoof strikes a stone out comes a spark
And that spark brings out the true meaning and heart of summer
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