IN OTHER NEWS: I hate college. Hate hate hate it. I haven't even graduated high school yet and I'm already stressed out, not to mention my parents are being stupidheads and not telling me anything except things I don't want to hear. I'm freaking stressed. I might even swear (ooooooooo).
Also in other news: I saw my boyfriend today while on a campus tour (what are the odds, right?). It was amazing to see him again, but it made me kind of sad because he's so lonely. Crap, it makes me feel like a bad friend. So I told him I'd call, which I will. 8D Actually I just barely texted him.
Me: Hey! :) It was so good to see you today! I've really missed you.
Him: I am doing calculus right now
Me (to myself): ... Okay, we'll talk later, then, I guess?
He's kind of funny like that, but those are his weird little quirks I like so much. Plus, he said calculus is stressing him out, so I can see why he might not want to chat.
Also also, if all you poets out there haven't sent an email to get featured, you're foolheads! I've started targeting people, so unless you want me to hunt you down like a sniper-man, you'd better
look at this and send in some stuff. So there.
Today's poem is about 114 days old according to my Google Docs thingy. A few people have asked about my funny little habit of combining words; well, this is where it started. In my creative writing class we each are in charge of doing a writing activity once every other week or so. One of those activities involved using a list of 20 or 25 odd words and either writing a story or a poem incorporating 12 or more of them. I used them all. I'm a bit of a show-off, I guess you could say.
Words
I’ll use big words to sound as though I know something,
And I might sound a little dumbgauche,
But I need someone to hearlisten.
I need someone to stopallay,
My exigency, because my heartsnare
Is pounding so hard and so fast that it will painburst,
And my teeth are clenched so tightclosed
That my masseter is about to breaksnap.
My lungs are fractious in the fumigating firesmoke,
As the trees slip away in mellifluous ashbreezes.
I might be blamed of clozapinepotism,
But it’s hard to absolve an ennead of misanthropic otherselves.
All I get is harshcruel
Fustigations as I don my dowdykanzu.
If you ask me, I think it is they who are censurable unrights,
Though it might not be axiomatic at firstlook.
I’ll just have to garner some boredennui,
But for now I’m donekaput.
