Archives
April 2009
March 2009
January 2009
December 2008
November 2008
October 2008
September 2008
August 2008
July 2008
June 2008
May 2008
April 2008
March 2008
February 2008
January 2008
December 2007
November 2007
October 2007
September 2007
August 2007
July 2007
June 2007
May 2007
April 2007
March 2007
February 2007
January 2007
December 2006
November 2006
September 2006
August 2006
July 2006
June 2006
May 2006
April 2006
March 2006
February 2006
January 2006
December 2005
November 2005
October 2005
September 2005
August 2005
July 2005
June 2005
May 2005
April 2005
March 2005
February 2005
January 2005
December 2004
November 2004
October 2004
September 2004
August 2004
July 2004
June 2004
May 2004
April 2004
March 2004
Recent Entries
Stephen
Movie Metaphysics: The Dark Knight
What's Going On Here??
Why I'm Getting Rid of Google Chrome
Twitter and Me
Advent
To the 52, From 1 Of the 48
A Note To Authors (and PR people, too)
Beat Coastal, The Sequel
Obama's Backdrop

November 09, 2004

Caution: Facetiousness Ahead

It's 7pm, I'm typing my paper. My mind is not itself.

So I take a break, and decide to hit the "Next Blog" button at the top of the page a few times, just to see what will happen. Maybe I'll find someone who I can add to the blogroll. Maybe I'll find someone intelligent. Maybe ...

But no. I find a bunch of angst-ridden teenagers writing bad poetry about the boy who broke up with them to date their best friend's neighbor's sister's cousin, and how could he DO that, and other such nonsense. So I decided to try it out myself. I'm going to write som blog poetry now -- pure stream of conscousness stuff. Maybe I can finally be a cool teenager -- Lord knows I wasn't 20 years ago, when I was IN high school.


I see my two feet
sneakerclad, tapping my toes.
Going nowhere, fast...

The computer glares
The cursor flashes insults
My prose, it is bad.

Melanchthon is dull
So much has been written
All is in German.

People pass by me
They stop, staring at foolishness.
Bad poems on my screen.


Wow. I feel cool again. That was just so cathartic. I think the haiku is an underrated form of verse, don't you? So structured -- it's a challenge to get your thoughts to fit the meter. People don't write that way anymore.

Ok. Break's over. Back to Melanchthon, and you all can go do something much more constructive.

Posted by Warren Kelly at November 9, 2004 07:01 PM
Email me!
Email Protection by Name Intelligence