Hey there. If you're lucky enough to find this blog, Then I hope you enjoy our amateur art.


Saturday, April 30, 2011

random things

Last night was the last performance of the play, "A Midsummer Night's Dream" and To tell the truth, I'm sad that I shan't be doing it again. I had so much fun, and the people with whom I was just acquainted, who I only saw at school, have become, I hope, my friends. You must understand, dear readers, that I never had many friends; I was always terribly shy. So the play was wonderful. I must also say that our director, Pastor Steve, was the best director I could have asked for.

Then Some friends who I haven't seen since before Christmas came to town and spent the night at my house. They are sisters, and I find it very hard to believe that two people so different could both be my friends. One is a comedian/fantasy reader/AWESOME!, the other is a poet/artist/INCREDIBLE! and i love them both. Medusa and I have been friends with them since... well... over four years.   I am 17, and they are 14 and 16. I do not think that I have so much in common with anyone else.

IN other news, It's snowing again. sigh. when will it end??????? It's practically May. I really do not want any more snow. I think I speak for everyone in this state. I wish we could send it all down to Texas, because they've had problems with wild fires this year. It's them that need it, not us.

so that's my random post. You, dear reader, might find one of these once in a while when I have nothing else to write about. But on Monday, you will find a Poem written by my friend (mentioned above, the poet), because it's a great poem. So good-bye, I am going away to write another poem (hopefully).

Friday, April 29, 2011


Here is the sunset on April 26th.

Thursday, April 28, 2011

antonio vivaldi's flute concerto no. 3

Well, tioday is the big day of the play, "A midsummer night's dream. I am not nervous at all, which is a surprise. I am nothing but a fairy, so I don't have a lot of lines.

In other news, I heard a great song yesterday. here it is.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Happy birthday Katherine!

It is Katherine S.'s birthday today, and I want to post her 17th birthday poem.

Katherine’s 17th birthday poem
My one wish for you
When you turn seventeen
Is to glorify God
In all that you do.
Without him your life
Wouldn’t be quite as fun
So make sure He shines through.
Work hard in school
Don’t complain in ballet.
Show that your faith is true.
And remember that I,
Who wrote this small poem,
Will be praying for you!

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

happy birthdays!

April 23rd was one of my friend's birthday. Tomorrow is another friend's birthday.
SO I wrote two poems. this one is for today, the other one is for tomorrow.

Rinnah's 16th birthday poem.

Happy Birthday!!!
I hope you have a great day!
that's filled with fun and laughter
Cause that's what really matters!
I hope I bring a smile
To your face once in a while!
Love you, Girl, With all my heart
Even if We're far apart.

Monday, April 25, 2011

hard work

This is a poem dedicated to my younger sister.

Hard Work

Hey, kid, I know
That life can be hard.
school is the pits
You get no reward.
But I know you're smart
You can make it through life
if only you try.
Your mind is a knife
you can cut through your school.
I know that you'll see
if you try hard enough;
Hard work is the key!

Sunday, April 24, 2011


Well, It seems that it's Easter. The day we set aside to celebrate the death of our savior.

King James Version: Matthew Chapter 27

1 When the morning was come, all the chief priests and elders of the people took counsel against Jesus to put him to death:
2 And when they had bound him, they led him away, and delivered him to Pontius Pilate the governor.
3 Then Judas, which had betrayed him, when he saw that he was condemned, repented himself, and brought again the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and elders,
4 Saying, I have sinned in that I have betrayed the innocent blood. And they said, What is that to us? see thou to that.
5 And he cast down the pieces of silver in the temple, and departed, and went and hanged himself.
6 And the chief priests took the silver pieces, and said, It is not lawful for to put them into the treasury, because it is the price of blood.
7 And they took counsel, and bought with them the potter's field, to bury strangers in.
8 Wherefore that field was called, The field of blood, unto this day.
9 Then was fulfilled that which was spoken by Jeremy the prophet, saying, And they took the thirty pieces of silver, the price of him that was valued, whom they of the children of Israel did value;
10 And gave them for the potter's field, as the Lord appointed me.
11 And Jesus stood before the governor: and the governor asked him, saying, Art thou the King of the Jews? And Jesus said unto him, Thou sayest.
12 And when he was accused of the chief priests and elders, he answered nothing.
13 Then said Pilate unto him, Hearest thou not how many things they witness against thee?
14 And he answered him to never a word; insomuch that the governor marvelled greatly.
15 Now at that feast the governor was wont to release unto the people a prisoner, whom they would.
16 And they had then a notable prisoner, called Barabbas.
17 Therefore when they were gathered together, Pilate said unto them, Whom will ye that I release unto you? Barabbas, or Jesus which is called Christ?
18 For he knew that for envy they had delivered him.
19 When he was set down on the judgment seat, his wife sent unto him, saying, Have thou nothing to do with that just man: for I have suffered many things this day in a dream because of him.
20 But the chief priests and elders persuaded the multitude that they should ask Barabbas, and destroy Jesus.
21 The governor answered and said unto them, Whether of the twain will ye that I release unto you? They said, Barabbas.
22 Pilate saith unto them, What shall I do then with Jesus which is called Christ? They all say unto him, Let him be crucified.
23 And the governor said, Why, what evil hath he done? But they cried out the more, saying, Let him be crucified.
24 When Pilate saw that he could prevail nothing, but that rather a tumult was made, he took water, and washed his hands before the multitude, saying, I am innocent of the blood of this just person: see ye to it.
25 Then answered all the people, and said, His blood be on us, and on our children.
26 Then released he Barabbas unto them: and when he had scourged Jesus, he delivered him to be crucified.
27 Then the soldiers of the governor took Jesus into the common hall, and gathered unto him the whole band of soldiers.
28 And they stripped him, and put on him a scarlet robe.
29 And when they had platted a crown of thorns, they put it upon his head, and a reed in his right hand: and they bowed the knee before him, and mocked him, saying, Hail, King of the Jews!
30 And they spit upon him, and took the reed, and smote him on the head.
31 And after that they had mocked him, they took the robe off from him, and put his own raiment on him, and led him away to crucify him.
32 And as they came out, they found a man of Cyrene, Simon by name: him they compelled to bear his cross.
33 And when they were come unto a place called Golgotha, that is to say, a place of a skull,
34 They gave him vinegar to drink mingled with gall: and when he had tasted thereof, he would not drink.
35 And they crucified him, and parted his garments, casting lots: that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the prophet, They parted my garments among them, and upon my vesture did they cast lots.
36 And sitting down they watched him there;
37 And set up over his head his accusation written, THIS IS JESUS THE KING OF THE JEWS.
38 Then were there two thieves crucified with him, one on the right hand, and another on the left.
39 And they that passed by reviled him, wagging their heads,
40 And saying, Thou that destroyest the temple, and buildest it in three days, save thyself. If thou be the Son of God, come down from the cross.
41 Likewise also the chief priests mocking him, with the scribes and elders, said,
42 He saved others; himself he cannot save. If he be the King of Israel, let him now come down from the cross, and we will believe him.
43 He trusted in God; let him deliver him now, if he will have him: for he said, I am the Son of God.
44 The thieves also, which were crucified with him, cast the same in his teeth.
45 Now from the sixth hour there was darkness over all the land unto the ninth hour.
46 And about the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying, Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani? that is to say, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?
47 Some of them that stood there, when they heard that, said, This man calleth for Elias.
48 And straightway one of them ran, and took a spunge, and filled it with vinegar, and put it on a reed, and gave him to drink.
49 The rest said, Let be, let us see whether Elias will come to save him.
50 Jesus, when he had cried again with a loud voice, yielded up the ghost.
51 And, behold, the veil of the temple was rent in twain from the top to the bottom; and the earth did quake, and the rocks rent;
52 And the graves were opened; and many bodies of the saints which slept arose,
53 And came out of the graves after his resurrection, and went into the holy city, and appeared unto many.
54 Now when the centurion, and they that were with him, watching Jesus, saw the earthquake, and those things that were done, they feared greatly, saying, Truly this was the Son of God.
55 And many women were there beholding afar off, which followed Jesus from Galilee, ministering unto him:
56 Among which was Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James and Joses, and the mother of Zebedees children.
57 When the even was come, there came a rich man of Arimathaea, named Joseph, who also himself was Jesus' disciple:
58 He went to Pilate, and begged the body of Jesus. Then Pilate commanded the body to be delivered.
59 And when Joseph had taken the body, he wrapped it in a clean linen cloth,
60 And laid it in his own new tomb, which he had hewn out in the rock: and he rolled a great stone to the door of the sepulchre, and departed.
61 And there was Mary Magdalene, and the other Mary, sitting over against the sepulchre.
62 Now the next day, that followed the day of the preparation, the chief priests and Pharisees came together unto Pilate,
63 Saying, Sir, we remember that that deceiver said, while he was yet alive, After three days I will rise again.
64 Command therefore that the sepulchre be made sure until the third day, lest his disciples come by night, and steal him away, and say unto the people, He is risen from the dead: so the last error shall be worse than the first.
65 Pilate said unto them, Ye have a watch: go your way, make it as sure as ye can.
66 So they went, and made the sepulchre sure, sealing the stone, and setting a watch.

Chapter 28

1 In the end of the sabbath, as it began to dawn toward the first day of the week, came Mary Magdalene and the other Mary to see the sepulchre.
2 And, behold, there was a great earthquake: for the angel of the Lord descended from heaven, and came and rolled back the stone from the door, and sat upon it.
3 His countenance was like lightning, and his raiment white as snow:
4 And for fear of him the keepers did shake, and became as dead men.
5 And the angel answered and said unto the women, Fear not ye: for I know that ye seek Jesus, which was crucified.
6 He is not here: for he is risen, as he said. Come, see the place where the Lord lay.
7 And go quickly, and tell his disciples that he is risen from the dead; and, behold, he goeth before you into Galilee; there shall ye see him: lo, I have told you.
8 And they departed quickly from the sepulchre with fear and great joy; and did run to bring his disciples word.
9 And as they went to tell his disciples, behold, Jesus met them, saying, All hail. And they came and held him by the feet, and worshipped him.
10 Then said Jesus unto them, Be not afraid: go tell my brethren that they go into Galilee, and there shall they see me.
11 Now when they were going, behold, some of the watch came into the city, and shewed unto the chief priests all the things that were done.
12 And when they were assembled with the elders, and had taken counsel, they gave large money unto the soldiers,
13 Saying, Say ye, His disciples came by night, and stole him away while we slept.
14 And if this come to the governor's ears, we will persuade him, and secure you.
15 So they took the money, and did as they were taught: and this saying is commonly reported among the Jews until this day.
16 Then the eleven disciples went away into Galilee, into a mountain where Jesus had appointed them.
17 And when they saw him, they worshipped him: but some doubted.
18 And Jesus came and spake unto them, saying, All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth.
19 Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost:
20 Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and, lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world. Amen.

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Friday, April 22, 2011


I Medusa and I bought our wonderful mother and Ice-cream maker for her birthday. Today, we made strawberry ice-cream. So here is a haiku about ice-cream

Creamy and yummy
Deliciously wonderful
Beautiful ice-cream.

Thursday, April 21, 2011

the rabbit hunter...

...By Robert Frost.

Careless and still
The hunter lurks
With gun depressed
Facing alone
The alder swamps
Ghastly snow-white.
And his hound works
In the offing there
Like one possessed.
And yelps delight
And sings and romps,
Bringing him on
The shadowy hare
For him to rend
And deal a death
That he nor it
(Nor I) have wit
To comprehend.
Again, one of my favorites!

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

"I am a Christian"

I don't know who wrote this, but I like it.

When I say..."I am a christian"
I'm not shouting "I'm clean living"
I'm whispering that "I was lost,
And now I'm found, forgiven."

When I say..."I am a christian"
I don't speak of this with pride.
I'm confessing that I stumble
And I need CHRIST to be my guide.

When I say..."I am a christian"
I'm not trying to be strong.
I'm professing that I'm weak and
Need HIS strength to carry on.

When I say..."I am a christian"
I'm not bragging of success.
I'm admitting that I've failed Him,
And need God to clean my mess.

When I say..."I am a christian"
I'm not claiming to be perfect.
My flaws are far to visible
But God believes I'm worth it.

When I say..."I am a christian"
I still feel the sting of pain
I have my share of heartaches
So I call upon his name.

When I say..."I am a christian"
I'm not holier than thou,
I'm just a simple sinner
Who received God's grace somehow.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

weather is stupid

It's snowing again. I hate this. It's the middle of April!!! we don't live in Alaska. So here's a very poor poem I wrote in the space of five minutes, so don't expect anything great.

Stupid weather

It's here again
It just won't leave.
I wonder when
The snow will stop.
"leave me alone!
Never come back!"
I yell to the snow.
but it will not listen.
The spring can't come
with snow on the ground
The Weather is dumb.
it just cannot see.
that it's April now,
It's supposed to be gone!
But I don't know how.

Monday, April 18, 2011

For shame and a song!

I am terribly sorry that yesterday I did not post anything. I am ashamed and I will try not to let it happen again. But, it just might if I am to take a vacation to the black hills this summer. Anyway, today's post is a song. Beethoven's 1st symphony if you must know.

Saturday, April 16, 2011


A poem by Henry W. Longfellow. 

Thou comest, Autumn, heralded by the rain,
With banners, by great gales incessant fanned,
Brighter than brightest silks of Samarcand,
And stately oxen harnessed to thy wain!
Thou standest, like imperial Charlemagne,
Upon thy bridge of gold; thy royal hand
Outstretched with benedictions o'er the land,
Blessing the farms through all thy vast domain!
Thy shield is the red harvest moon, suspended
So long beneath the heaven's o'er-hanging eaves;
Thy steps are by the farmer's prayers attended;
Like flames upon an altar shine the sheaves;
And, following thee, in thy ovation splendid,
Thine almoner, the wind, scatters the golden leaves!

Friday, April 15, 2011


If you start with a cage containing five monkeys and inside the cage,
hang a banana on a string from the top and then you place a set of stairs
under the banana, before long a monkey will go to the stairs and climb toward the banana.

As soon as he touches the stairs, you spray all the other monkeys
with cold water. After a while another monkey makes an attempt with
same result ... all the other monkeys are sprayed with cold water.
Pretty soon when another monkey tries to climb the stairs, the
other monkeys will try to prevent it.

Now, put the cold water away.

Remove one monkey from the cage and replace it with a new one. 

The new monkey sees the banana and attempts to climb the stairs. 
To his shock, all of the other monkeys beat the crap out of him. 
After another attempt and attack, he knows that if he tries to climb the stairs he will be assaulted.

Next, remove another of the original five monkeys, replacing it
with a new one.  The newcomer goes to the stairs and is attacked.
The previous newcomer takes part in the punishment... with enthusiasm.

Then, replace a third original monkey with a new one, followed by
a fourth, then the fifth.  Every time the newest monkey takes to
the stairs he is attacked. Most of the monkeys that are beating him up have no idea why they were not permitted to climb the stairs.
Neither do they know why they are participating in the beating of the newest monkey.

Finally, having replaced all of the original monkeys, none of
the remaining monkeys will have ever been sprayed with cold
. Nevertheless, none of the monkeys will  try to climb
the stairway for the banana.

Why, you ask?  Because in their minds...
that is the way it has always been!

Thursday, April 14, 2011


Finally, my latest poem:

My beauty, my lovely,
I see you from afar.
You're the worlds most awsome,
most beautiful car.
You sound really nice
As you cruise down the street
But your price is to high
To high for me to meet.
So I'll just sit and watch
And wait for the day
When Hopefully, somehow
I'll own you some way.
So I sit and I think
And say "what a shame!"
That I can't own this car
This beautiful Mustang.

The picture, by the way, is a photo of my friend's car. Boy is she lucky!

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

a Sonnet

Shakespeare is another of my favorites. this is one of his sonnets, which is my favorite. Enjoy! 

From fairest creatures we desire increase,
That thereby beauty's rose might never die,
But as the riper should by time decease,
His tender heir might bear his memory:
But thou contracted to thine own bright eyes,
Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel,
Making a famine where abundance lies,
Thy self thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel:
Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament,
And only herald to the gaudy spring,
Within thine own bud buriest thy content,
And tender churl mak'st waste in niggarding:
Pity the world, or else this glutton be,
To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Hai-ku again

once a perfect day
Now blemished with clouds and wind
rain is on the way.

HI. I am currently working on three poems. the one I think I'll have done soonest has to do with a car. But anyway, that will be posted sometime this week...I hope.
Toodles for now.

Monday, April 11, 2011

Poor Guy!

There once was a man with a life
that's until he married his wife
Now every day
He's in a terrible way
'Cause she is the cause of his strife.

Just a little limerick I wrote.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Sunday no. 15

It is Sunday once again, but I must say, it's far from sunny.

Psalm 24:

 1The earth is the LORD's, and the fulness thereof; the world, and they that dwell therein.
 2For he hath founded it upon the seas, and established it upon the floods.
 3Who shall ascend into the hill of the LORD? or who shall stand in his holy place?
 4He that hath clean hands, and a pure heart; who hath not lifted up his soul unto vanity, nor sworn deceitfully.
 5He shall receive the blessing from the LORD, and righteousness from the God of his salvation.
 6This is the generation of them that seek him, that seek thy face, O Jacob. Selah.
 7Lift up your heads, O ye gates; and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors; and the King of glory shall come in.
 8Who is this King of glory? The LORD strong and mighty, the LORD mighty in battle.
 9Lift up your heads, O ye gates; even lift them up, ye everlasting doors; and the King of glory shall come in.
 10Who is this King of glory? The LORD of hosts, he is the King of glory. Selah.

Saturday, April 9, 2011

Here is one of my favorite poems. one that I am in the process of memorizing. I have only got as far as the third stanza, however.
I am sorry to say that I have not finished the poem  I am writing. I hope you can wait another day.

Edgar Allan Poe

The Raven

[First published in 1845]
horizontal space Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!

Friday, April 8, 2011


Yes, I am a slacker. I have gone several weeks writing nothing but square poems, and not a real one. So I started this poem, but It's not finished. I won't have time to finish it today, but I might have it done by tomorrow when i post something.
In the meantime, Here is a classic poem by Shel Silverstein.

Tattooin' Ruth

Collars are choking,
Pants are expensive,
Jackets are itchy and hot,
So tattooin’ Ruth tattooed me a suit.
Now folks think I’m dressed– –
When I’m not.
 lovely isn't it?

Thursday, April 7, 2011

A lymerick

Here is one of my favorite lymericks:

There once was a fellow from Perth,
who was born on the day of his birth.
He was married, they say
on his wife's wedding day
and died when he quitted the earth.

There is a certain thing to limericks, something catchy. But one has to know the form.
A limerick consists of five lines. The first two lines rhyme, and are longer than the third and fourth lines, which rhyme. Then the last line is as long as the first two lines and rhymes with them. But that's not all. The metre matters, too. if the rhythm isn't right, the poem isn't right. 
As you can see, I like to stick to form poetry.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

a square poem

I've recently discovered a new kind of poem. it's called a square poem, and it reads down in columns as well as across in lines. I thought it was clever. here is one by Lewis Carroll.

  Now here is one I wrote. I thought it would be harder, but when a person sets his mind to it, he can accomplish anything.

if anyone can do one of these, I will be impressed, because it was harder than it looks, though not as hard as I thought it would be.
But I do encourage you to try it. it's a great puzzle.
post your poem as a comment below.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

My friend wrote this poem. I hope you like it. I haven't had time to write a poem in a while, so I'm posting this one, because My friend is really a great person, and a wonderful poet. Enjoy!

The Healing Darkness
By  Becca Retterath

Softly the darkness caresses you,
You who is sad,
And you who is weeping.
You who is in pain,
And you who is suffering.
Will you allow us,
The Angels of the Dark,
To heal such depression?
Will you open your hear,
And let us in to soothe your pain?
There is not a single thing to fear of us,
We are not but the soulds who have died
From the same tears and sorrow.
We, whom you need,
Strive for nothing but to heal
Your pain and wipe your tears away.
You who is weeping and mourning,
Open your hear and mind,
Let us heal you,
Come with us to our land of shadows,
See what our power can do,
See what magic we posses!
We beg you,
Come with us
If you wish for darkness to heal your wounds.

Monday, April 4, 2011

The Road not Taken

First of all, I would like to congratulate Medusa on her posts, since I FINALLY got her to post some of her art.

Now, onto the subject of today's blog post, The Road Not Taken,   By Robert Frost. This is one of my favorite poems, and I memorized it a few years ago. But first, as always, a little bit about the author, taken from Wikipedia.

R. f.                        

Robert Lee Frost (March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963) was an American poet. He is highly regarded for his realistic depictions of rural life and his command of American colloquial speech His work frequently employed settings from rural life in New England in the early twentieth century, using them to examine complex social and philosophical themes. A popular and often-quoted poet, Frost was honored frequently during his lifetime, receiving four Pulitzer Prizes for Poetry.

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;        5
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,        10
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.        15
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.        20

Sunday, April 3, 2011

Since I really can't think of anything profound or even interesting to write about, I'm posting another drawing. Edgar Allen Poe is one of my favorite authors, and since I did one of Clint Eastwood, who isn't even my favorite actor, I figured I might as well draw ol' Edd.

Sunday No. 14

It is, as it seems, another wonderful Sunday. I must do my duty and post another Psalm. This is a very Well known Psalm

The 23rd Psalm:
A Psalm of David.

 1The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
 2He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
 3He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
 4Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
 5Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
 6Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever.

Saturday, April 2, 2011

Clint Eastwood

This is Clint Eastwood. If you look hard, you may even be able to spot a resemblance.

the Mountain King

This is one of my favorite pieces. I love to play it on the piano, and I love to listen to it. it's so cool. SO here I present, In the Hall of The Mountain King . But first, a little background information about the composer, Edvard Grieg.

Edvard Hagerup Grieg (June 15 1843-September 4 1907) Was a Norwegian composer and Pianist who composed in the romantic period. He is best known for his Piano Concerto in A minor, for his incidental music to Henrik Ibsen’s play Peer Gynt (which includes Morning Mood and In the Hall of the Mountain King.)  and for his collection of miniature lyric pieces.


Friday, April 1, 2011

another one?

Yes, It's another picture by Lone Wolf. Why, you might ask, does Medusa never post anything? Well, the answer is simple. she has no time. But, I assure you, she has plenty of pictures that she would love to share. And she will, too, when she gets the time. until then, I'm afraid You're stuck with me.

A cowboy

Yes, I know, it's not good at all. this guy was one of my earlier ones. I like it though.