Much to your dismay, my bad poetry

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In the vein of my blogging heroes, Pioneer Woman and Evie, I thought I would share some bad poetry with you. In the olden days of high school and college, I fancied myself a poet. Now I’ve moved onto the greener pastures of fiction, creative nonfiction, and its close cousin, blogging.

So without further adieu, here you go.
P.S. I also studied Chinese and French in high school, and Chinese in college, so forgive my pretentious foreign phrase-additions.
P.P.S. Wow, I didn’t realize just HOW bad this was until I read it again!!

don’t sing me the blue night song
where fingers snaps in 3/4 time
where the violin romances its strings
where the navy aura surrounds
gei wo hui da
give me an answer as i climb this tree
forget the yes-no-do nots
of your aproned mother
stop her voice with a porcelain rag
and give me truth
yes, i’m a foreign phrase whore
but i’ll stop selling myself
to the land of Chinese caresses
if you will change the song
and save me from the
pine pricks of this tree.

One thought on “Much to your dismay, my bad poetry

  1. I LOVE this! It gave me such a giggle to see that you, too had written poetry in high school and college.

    The line “Where the violin romances its strings” is very nice imagery, really. I liked that quite a bit.

    So brave to put yourself out there! Maybe I’ll put one up this weekend in solidarity with you.

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