narrative poem

Back in december when the air changes to cold,
there was not a story left untold.
But as the campfire drew weary and ill,
the flames started flickering with little will.

Knowing all the scary stories we just said,
they were still very vivid in my head.
But to get more campfire supplies, i'd need to go in the basement,
trying to think the stories were just lies, i'd need to retrieve some flint.

As I head to the the back of the house and cellar door,
I see bright green ooze going into the underneath floor.
Curiously and cautious i pick up the closest weapon(a stick),
I draw close to the door and open it with question.

When I descend to the underneath labrynth the air is fowl,
I see a towel and pick up and wear it like a cowl.
Walking with quiet strides I see more ooze in the back side,
still armed i walk farther and hear something slide.

Almost to my gaol of getting some flint,
the air turns damp and i turn around to be almost hit.
It's my brother down here plotting this evil scheme,
knowing we'd need flint, he decided to intervene.

the raven

this peoms setting is in the night at his bedroom with him taking a rest. I think the message of the poem could be that his mind was playin tricks in him and wants peace to sleep and is disturbed by a raven. the ravens only words are nevermore. the rhyme shcemes i think i saw was metaphors and a ton of ryhming.

limerick

there once was a boy named sam
he lived in a garbage can
he was fat and loved ham.
since he was poor and couldnt pay
every morning he would say
who wants to feed me ham today
if no one would he stole it anyway.

biopoem

Preben

Danish, Protestant, patriot, helpful,

born in Snekkersten, Denmark

who feels there was no racism when he was younger, safe when hitler promised not to invade Denmark, and threatened when the gestapo look for jews in denmark

who feared denmark being invaded, mass extinction of jews, Hitler

who experienced good times, the recklessness of germany, and helping out the jewish people

who after the holocaust Pruben returned home in 1945

Munch-Nielsen

metaphor

A. Morning is like 6:00 am.i say this because in the morning the suns not up and its cooler than normaly and at 6:00 am the suns not up and its kind of cool at the moment.

B.i think the both metaphors are not that effective because when you wake up you still have all the regrets you had yesterday and the same problems.You cant just sleep off/do drugs or alcohol reality and your problems because they'll come back to haunt you.

C. life is chess,
your ponds are your first moves in life
and your knights are thy second.

Your opponent is death,
for which always wins,
with your deadly sins.

Your mission is to win,
or make it a race to conquer thy situation.

In the end if you win,
youve crossed the road safely up untill your body gives out from old age..hahahahahha nice try life

what i think of poetry

i think poetry is you know..words! words that are in weird orders with verbs, adverbs, nouns, pronouns, and adjectors.thats what poetry basically is but it has to make like no sence and be kind of like a puzzle which you have to decipher for the first clue in the jungle of words to figure out what the idiot auther is trying to say. But alot of peeps cant come near to understanding the weird and confusing ways of displaying the unorthadox structures and want thy authers to die in a pitfall full of fire ants.