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Crappy Poetry


Rhindle the Dragon

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I didn't have anything special planned for today's entry, but recently I'd been thinking about some of the more cringeworthy poems I've written over the years. What? Of course I'm going to post them here for all the world to see! It's an exercise in confidence. What are people gonna do, cyberbully me for being a crappy poet? Ha! what a joke.

 

The following two poems both hail from late 2014. They're pretty bad. Please don't laugh.

 

 

 

 

A MINECRAFT POEM

Spawned

The sun shines from the east

Beneath you

Upon the sleeping earth

Though you wear no shoes

Your feet feel as such

Because they are calloused

From ages atop this dry soil

For years, you toiled

You created; you destroyed

Yet there still lies uncharted territory

Beyond the horizon

And across the sea

Your destination is upon you

And as the thick blackness floods your lungs

You fire at the sky

Determined to find the End

For your own glory

And satisfaction

But though you had slain her

She is not truly gone

Her seed you bear

As a reminder and a hope

That one day

The fiery square will set

And you

With her offspring by your side

Will carry on

Until there is nothing

Left

To explore

 

 

Meh. The next one is even worse.

ODE TO A GARTER SNAKE

Be still, my friend, though thy movements are graceful,

Consequences come from the things unseen.

Keep a watchful eye, lest they be detected

In the midst of thy sagebrush serene.

Close thy mouth and hide thy teeth;

Keep away from thine enemies.

But O, my true friend, once they are gone,

Forgive them for their monstrosities.

The hatred of mankind cannot be contained,

But alas, I have my duty.

Without thee I go, but in my heart,

I still proclaim thy beauty.

*SIGH* Just... ugh. Please don't write like this, folks.

 

I'll close out the night with a haiku. I don't know when this is from, or if it is even my own work.

Frankly though, I doubt the author would care.

 

Hippopotamus

This is a haiku I wrote

Refrigerator

 

2 Comments


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I've seen far worse. Heck, I've written far worse.

 

You seem to understand, though, why your later poetry is better. It's that unquantifiable element called expressiveness. Excellent programmers and writers can conjure it up in an instant, using all the rules and limitations of language and logic as tools - less developed ones stick to the formula and never really express anything.

 

I know of no curriculum that can teach expressiveness. It's just something that one cultivates, methinks.

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Sometimes I feel as if my writing improves as I grow older, even if I don't take any classes or practice more. I finished a fairly decent short story last month, one which I'm proud of, and it just makes me think how much better I can be if I keep practicing on top of this natural expressive improvement.

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