Also Music Education

This one was for Music Education class, part of a visual representation of the master teacher:

The typhoon of her family, the volcanic isle

Leaving scars hidden beneath the feigned half-smile

Or the strong headed youth in the wrong part of town

Lost in the violent waves with naught but to drown

There’s found the Master Teacher in the midst of the pyre

With the stability she craves and the safety he desires

Here she wishes to be more than a pool

But a sea or an ocean with the world her foot stool

Here his eyes droop too low into stagnant bay

Bereft the chance to dive head first in the foray

There’s seen the Master Teacher with excitement to spare

And the knowledge to take her young mind from here to anywhere

Away she’s a lone ship miles from anyplace

That desires her fleet again, or even a familiar face

He too in isolation with none to call “friend”

Where to find the trust all need in one whom he can depend?

Here provides the Master Teacher, a choir of brothers

With Love and friendship, at last for each other

Now here’s the sad puddle, no Love for its kind

With not even a gram of self esteem to find

Conversely there’s the young rascal, who knew it all then

And now cares for naught but a few smokes and gin

There’s where the Master Teacher can give the rod he needs

Or the encouragement of value, and the desire to succeed

The result is perfection, whether it be sweep stakes or threes

The joys are the perfection, and the Master Teacher keeps these

For Music Education

This was for a class. I had to write a poem that described me. And every line had to begin with "I am"

I am sublime secrecy in silent Socratic speculation

I am a supernova of sunshine in the sour smelly smog

I am a soldier for Someone whose sentiment sought to save me

I am the sinner sinking in the sea, to surface once a saint

I am the satire to the superhero, and servant to the sorrow stricken

I am the slime on the sharpness, to slice and slip away

I am a sinister sorcerer who’s Savior softened with solace and sustenance

I am a mask of masculinity, and mockery of manliness

I am a Midionite and militant when made a murderous monster

I am massive in my mind when my malice might take management

I am the mite of a mouse before my mother’s madness

I am mediocre in mile making and modest in math

I am moved by meager-means and maddened by money

I am microscopic in the magnificent majesty of Music

The Ominous 'It'

A Comfort Level

The Profound Blog

So....i've officially decided that my poems (that are present here) are not only made-up on the spot but also not very good. But i'm okay with that. So here goes another meaningless poem that probably will have you wondering why you sat and read that whole thing while you could have been watching the fishing re-runs (there's really people that tape them. no joke).

Dr Awkward
So here I'm going to go once again
With more blog-blah...for a space "filler-in"
But, I'm hoping that something profound
Will jump into my head on the next go-around
Well here's the next round and to tell you the truth
I got nothing exciting, my thoughts are aloof
But...perhaps...if I stuggle on
I'll catch me a thought( hopefully before dawn)
Well there is this one thing that I'll tell you about
That has grown so close that I can't live without
Now I must ask myself 'would it be a sin?'
If it were not God that I spoke of just then?
Surely it is the truth that through God I love her
The image of perfection that makes my heart go astir
Perfection through perfection. What more could I want?
Yet by dark images I've been constantly taunt
Though jealous and greedy may be on my list
They do not make-up the main part of my cyst
It would mainly be lust (that abominable thing)
Why can't it leave me alone or find some other fling?
It's abnormal power over guys is insane
and too easily pierces the 'Jesus' membrane
My old fake-faith could not prevent
the awful deeds of which I repent
these deeds though not actions i'll always regret
but now is not the proper time to fret
Actually there is no proper time for that
As our Faith in our Lord should beat all worries flat
So be strong in your faith and don't do as I did
For Satan doesn't care if you're just an innocent kid.

Well what do you know...something profound after all.
Well until next time...
"THAT'S ALL FOLKS"

J's Poem on the Bliggity-Blog

Here's Another one from Justin:

Throw your records out the window
I'll throw mine out, too
Forgive me my debts
I just want to hear you

If a scratchy letter on your window
Will bring a girlish smile to your face
Give me a word; show me your pearls
I'll write another with great haste

Its been a cold winter
A gloomy night indeed
A fruitful tree is growing
From this long-dormant seed

But don't leave me in this dead silence
I've seen my flaw in your mirror
My eyes are playing tricks on me
As I scrutinze ever nearer

If its my fault please forgive me
If its yours we're a pair
And though my own attempt is yellow
Please show me that you care.

So...that's it (by-the-by... the grammer mistakes such as the "its" are as written so don't blame me)
As always constructive anti-jerk-criticism is accepted.

The Blog-Boy('s friend's poem)

So... my friend Justin loves to play the guitar and write God-inspired poems. The only problem he has is that he cannot make up music to make his poems into praise songs (as he so desires). So me being the great friend that i am decided to make up the music for him (and take half the credit for the song). Here goes.

More than the Watchman
By J. J. Morton

Not for me
Not to you
I praise the One
Who makes me new

I will wait
For Your Will, O Lord
For who can ascend
Your hill, O Lord?

To be loved by the One
Who knows what's best for me
What more could I need?
Wisdom and understanding
Will be given in season
Now my Shepherd will lead.

And I accept the cup offered
But I'll have to be spoon fed
Or rather be poured into
Like the puddle that I am

I'm a boy with equations
But every scientist knows
That only by experiment

Can theory truly grow.

(constructive criticism will be accepted)
(unless you're a jerk)

So... that's it. Cya.

Blog Friends

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
My life is now complete, I have achieved the ultimate goal of "the blog friend"

This is a new concept to me as my introduction to blogspot was on a strictly teacher-student-YouDidn'tTurnYorHomeworkOnTimeYouLazyBum relation....ship. Zvahtever. Anywho It only about 1:11(i actually typed !;!! on accident but was able to correct myself on time) and feel like releasing my stored-up energy in a rather mean and whore-condesending way.

Prom

My date said that she

Had to be ready

with at least two hours to spare

but I on the other hand

played army-men in "innocent land"

and tried not at all to care

We went to friend's home

to eat, and bring comb

for Date had left it behind

we had our own feast

and were full to say the least

and left hardly crumb or rind

I went to the dance

Were was "love" and "romance"

and nearly barfed all over my shirt

The guys were on girls

whose shaking ruined their curls

and completed much more than flirt

needless to say

i learned lesson that day

that i believe all should hear

I hate the way lust

has turned into a must

and clung to our hearts too dear

so the moral of my rant is simple. Prom is not dancing, and if it is I'm southern Baptist till I die.

I pray to God that my children will have friends like mine to not only not 'Shuffle' with the jeesh but to also find it absurd to imagine ourselves doing such obvious blah. I must warn anyone and everyone to not let yourselves ebe corrupted by the flow though the temptation seems to be your ever constant companion. These thoughts may be random due to the content of the noise in this room but you should get my drift.Cya.

Blog-smog-clog-dog

So... me being the unfaithful blogger that i am...i've been un-faithful. Now don't jump to hastyconclusions on me, i havn't (haven't?) been messing around with myspace or xanga...but i have been writing on paper*gasp*...with...a...PEN!
Now don't hate me forever and for a slightly repentant repent...ance...i shall make up a peom on the spot for you.
Here goes.

I went to my friend's house

(whose parents are quite wealthy)

and realized that my blog diet

was rather unhealthy

I've been blog-starved

(due to bad connection)

and realized that my friend's cable

could be my correction.

So i went to my mom

(who's always hated the stuff)

and realized that she pulled

un-expected from the cuff

"we gonna get cable"

she said with a snort

and our dail-up days

are growing swift short

to believe i could not

for that couldn't be so

for to modern technology

my family don't go

It is almost sad

that in only two days

loyal d-up and i

shall forever part ways.

so that is my poem

and should you not like

give mommy a hug

and use the word "tike"