good old fashioned fun
poetry is awesome. it's true and no one can deny it. I went to B.D. Dalton's today in hopes of purchasing the book Anthem for my english class but was sorrily disappointed to find that they were out. On the other hand, while I was looking for a new book to read, seeing as I seem to have read everything I own several times over, I stumbled upon the poetry section and decided to scan it over to see if they had anything that seemed interesting to me. I was successful! I found a book called Good Poems, which is a selection of poems of different genres by many different authors, and I also found a book entitled Immortal Poems of the English Language which is a 447 poem collection by 150 different poets. Some of those included in the Immortal book are Burns, Shakespeare, Eliot, Whitman and many others that are equally astounding. Plus, I got a Shakespeare collection of 4 of his great tragedies. I've already read Othello but Hamlet, King Lear and Macbeth are ones I've wanted to read for a while and now I get to!
I have to share one of the poems I found somewhat amusing from the Great Poems collection:
For the Life of Him and Her
Reed Whittemore
For the life of her she couldn't decide what to wear to the party.
All those clothes in that closet and not a thing to wear.
Nothing to wear, nothing wearable to a party,
Nothing at all in the closet for a girl to wear.
For the life of him he couldn't imagine what she was doing up there.
She had been messing around in that closet for at least an hour,
Trying on this, trying on that trying on all those clothes up there,
So that they were already late for the party by at least an hour.
If only he wouldn't stand around down the hall,
She could get herself dressed for the party, she knew she could somehow,
But he made her so nervous, he was just so nervous there in the hall
That she didn't think they would get to the party anyhow.
He didn't want to go to the party anyhow,
And he didn't want to stand and stand in the hall,
But he didn't want to tell her that he didn't want to go anyhow.
He just didn't want to tell her, that's all.
It's great social commentary for guys complaining that their dates take to long to get ready. Another good one, which I won't post, is called At Twenty-Three Weeks She Can No Longer See Anything South of Her Belly by Thom Ward. It's a quite amusing poem about a husband painting his wife's toenails because she's to pregnant to do it herself. Anyway, my day was pretty uneventful except for the argument I got into with Tim in German, not the annoying one, about how you're supposed to say because. It wasn't all that special but that's how my day was.
I'm very excited about Saturday because Marc plans on going which will make it even cooler, not that Roni, Jessica and Hedgie being there isn't cool enough.
Home meeting tomorrow night! Hope to see you all there! Call me if you need a ride.
H&K,
Becca
I have to share one of the poems I found somewhat amusing from the Great Poems collection:
For the Life of Him and Her
Reed Whittemore
For the life of her she couldn't decide what to wear to the party.
All those clothes in that closet and not a thing to wear.
Nothing to wear, nothing wearable to a party,
Nothing at all in the closet for a girl to wear.
For the life of him he couldn't imagine what she was doing up there.
She had been messing around in that closet for at least an hour,
Trying on this, trying on that trying on all those clothes up there,
So that they were already late for the party by at least an hour.
If only he wouldn't stand around down the hall,
She could get herself dressed for the party, she knew she could somehow,
But he made her so nervous, he was just so nervous there in the hall
That she didn't think they would get to the party anyhow.
He didn't want to go to the party anyhow,
And he didn't want to stand and stand in the hall,
But he didn't want to tell her that he didn't want to go anyhow.
He just didn't want to tell her, that's all.
It's great social commentary for guys complaining that their dates take to long to get ready. Another good one, which I won't post, is called At Twenty-Three Weeks She Can No Longer See Anything South of Her Belly by Thom Ward. It's a quite amusing poem about a husband painting his wife's toenails because she's to pregnant to do it herself. Anyway, my day was pretty uneventful except for the argument I got into with Tim in German, not the annoying one, about how you're supposed to say because. It wasn't all that special but that's how my day was.
I'm very excited about Saturday because Marc plans on going which will make it even cooler, not that Roni, Jessica and Hedgie being there isn't cool enough.
Home meeting tomorrow night! Hope to see you all there! Call me if you need a ride.
H&K,
Becca