These are just some poems that I have written for other classes. They like me are a work in progress so if you like them than let me know or if you hate them well ok let me know that too.

Paper, Pencils, Pens
Books, Photos, Clocks
Lights, Markers, Socks
Glasses, Blankets, Food
Snacks, Notebooks, Little Smiley Dudes
Pins, Tacks, Crayons
Tape, Golf Club, Falling Sand
Crosses, Remotes, Video Games,
Movies, Guitars, Junk and Clothes stuff
A disaster…

This is my life for the moment buried under a rockslide of stuff
Maybe I’ll dig myself out one day only just,
or splatter what’s left of my shattered brain
all over this mortar and clay…

Well maybe not what a mess that would be
Besides it might be worth my time to see how high this pile climbs

Dead Pigeons, Plaid Boxers, a certain Jeneseuquio



A Great Treasure


I was once an outlaw rider
I tromped around and robbed a bank or three
One day I rode out to the coast to ponder what I was doing there
I looked out over the waters deep and in the distance there was a crazy crafty buccaneer
I stared at him and he at me then a call came long and strong
Come sail away with me riding cowboy be wild and free
So I swam out to his craft and we sailed off into the setting of the sun
We saw a mass of shiny things, we pillaged here and plundered there
We even sank a treasure ship or two.
Everywhere we sailed around people would stop and stare.
We just smiled and cried
We are but young and debonair
Crafty are we who sail the sea
But how could one be anymore wild and free
Come sail away with we



What can you do with a Hen?


What can you do with a Hen?
Teach it to type
What can you do with an axe?
Scratch your back
Well, that’s what I’d do
Not sure why
But it seems
A Hen might type better than I
While it pecked away on a sonnet or rhyme
Still it might be wise to use a pen instead of a Hen
How many chickens can type though?
And how many writers would scratch their back with an axe?


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