Madie and Tyra's Quiz

Quiz on Amy Lowell:

In The Letter, what is the bare floor splattered with? (3 points)

What are Canterbury Bells? (2 points)

What are the two main images of The Opal? (5 points)

A Road Trip to Remember (From Poetry's POV)

They say opposites attract,

And other BS,

As if a road trip between Math and me

Had the slightest chance of success.

I knew this from the start,

But nevertheless,

It became just she and me,

And our hopes for the best.

I thought was I set for the school subject convention--

Bags were all packed, and I held no apprehension.

What I’d had planned was a nice, scenic drive

To watch cornstalks wave and wildlife thrive.

It was to be peaceful and happy and chill--

Not awkward and gawky and lacking of thrill.

Alas, I failed to correctly calculate

The gas money I’d need,

and my current financial state.

But Math missed her plane and was stranded as well

So we’re travelling together, hoping all will be swell.

It’s not that I hate Math, per se,

She just always has to have her way.

My words are pointless, no matter what I say:

“Math is smarter than Poetry,” or so says the cliche.

The first hour and a half passed in slow, tantalizing silence.

Then came the snippy banter, and comebacks of defiance.

It wasn’t until Math’s car rolled to a stop--

The front left tire letting out a loud POP!--

That Math and I were forced to form an alliance.

As I sat wondering how to fix a flat tire,

Math used knowledge of air pressure and angles

To fix the situation which had become dire.

I can admit to being impressed;

previously I’d thought math skills were useless.

I guess one might say it was a bonding experience

And we began to talk about things of widening variance:

From why I like poems and the words that I choose,

To how much fun we’d have on a Jamaican cruise.

I guess I was overtaken by the vibrant conversation...

My heart only raced ‘cause we described a fun vacation.

At least... that’s what I kept telling myself

As I memorized our convos to preserve their wealth.

It was five hours in 
when we saw an incredible building.

We agreed the architect was a genius,

Because how else could it be so thrilling?

One elegant side jutted out to the west

While arches along the perimeter were tasteful no less.

A mix of limestone and glass gleamed under the sun

And only by Math was my fascination outdone.

While I saw the beauty in the building’s asymmetry,

Math was impressed by the subtle geometry.

She squealed about the arches and line segments she spotted

As I smiled and gazed upon her, blindly besotted.

The trip carried on, as comfortable as could be--

Math and I discovered the value

in our separate personalities.

Conversation flowed effortlessly as the trip approached an end,

And I knew at that moment that I’d gained a lifelong friend.

---

Check Regular Poetry (a second hour blog) sometime soon for Math's perspective and a bit more insight on the adventure :)

Coming Soon... A Road Trip to Remember!

Hi all! Make sure to check back here on Monday, 3/14 for a collab with Regular Poetry (a second hour blog)!

Letter "_"

_xciting! If I had to d_scrib_ my f__lings about writing this po_m that is the word I would us_.

It may b_ a chall_ng_

I may not us_ _’s so writing this po_m may b_ quit_ compl_x.

_sp_cially for th_ r_ad_r.

You would b_ surpris_d how hard it is to _xclud_ _v_n a small l_tt_r.

It may s__m insignificant, but th_y say you n_v_r r_aliz_ th_ pot_ntial of som_thing

Until it’s gon_.

_v_ntually, th_r_ will b_ a tim_ wh_n

All _’s ar_ unimportant

N_w words ar_ cr_at_d _v_ry day,

And th_r_ may b_ a day wh_n you can r_plac_ th_

_’s with other l_tt_rs  

As an alt_rnativ_.

My free from “e” poem worked out well. I became able to put “e” in my poem without it really being there. Potentially people may think my free from “e” poem may not count. But my choice to write my poem in the like form made it more unique than otherwi_e! Whoop_.

Shower Thoughts

Why am I putting this poem in a box to begin with? It's a good poem, I should share it with others, not try to hide it. This poem is so perfect I’ll probably get an award. Actually this poem is so amazing that I can’t share it with other people and because there could be imitators that might want to copy its beauty. This poem is on such a grand scale that it is always changing and expanding and it can’t be contained in a mere box like other poems. But what if the very thing that makes it so unique is also a curse? What if its limitless potential sparks debate all around the world causing nothing to get done? People begin to lose sleep and start skipping meals all because of a poem that I came up with during a warm shower. Oh no, I can already feel myself getting lost in the poem! I’ll just cut the poem in half… and now I’m stuck with two amazing ever-expanding poems. The only solution now is to get rid of it. Maybe I could mail it off to a desert in Amazon and all I will need is a box…