Tuesday, September 28, 2010
I was in a fight with some STUPID OBOTS and teased them about their STUPID poems. So I had to do a REAL poem in case they told me to prove it that I could do better. So I think I did. I also learned how to be a haikuer at a place called gretawire. The syllables have to be 5-7-5. I did two, but the second one was kind of a joke, and it rhymes, so it can't be a real haiku. Anyway, here they are:
A Hint of Death
Sometimes in August, the Summer’s Breath
Blows from the North, with a hint of Death.
Something cold, for just a moment
Spills the Truth, lets slip the Secret.
Whispering to you so indistinct,
So brief, you shudder. No time to think.
Blowing around you, then is gone.
Nothing quite to put your finger on.
Yet somehow, the Summer play
Can not continue the same way.
The ending of the Story told,
Too soon the warmth will turn to cold.
Too soon the young will turn to old.
Here are the two haiku ones:
While November looms ahead
This would have been one but it rhymed which I learned they are not supposed to do:
Franzia wine rocks!
In its little cardboard box.
Replenish your stocks.