Old Poetry 3

This one was actually an assignment in a high school writing class around 2008. I forget the name of the kind of poem that this is, but as you can see, for example, the first letter of each word of the first line spell “sanity,” the first word in the line; the second line the second word; and so on. These poems are extremely challenging to write and I’m proud that this makes one lick of sense.


Sanity. A new idea – thank you.


Never even wonder:

Idiots don’t emit acceptance,

The hand a nonbeliever knows.

You owe ultimately.


A child thinks up a little love, yeah.


Not every victim experiences regret.

Even vagrants express need.

What other news does everyone reap?


I died. I opted to sleep.

Devoted. Oddly, not true.

Enjoyed my idle time.

A chastised child envisions peace. Take a night. Call Eros.


Take heart, even,

Have another naive day.


Not one night, baby. Every lover’s individual excitement varies. End reign.

Kidding, nobody obtains words’ secrets.


Yes, our underworld.

Overwritten wonderers excite;

Undetermined lovers talk in moonlight. A thought: Evening loves you.

ImageThis picture is totally from my high school creative writing class. We developed a kind of family, and my teacher was the cool uncle/bad babysitter. Don’t get me wrong; he’s a brilliant man whom I admire and am Facebook friends with. He just didn’t like being the boss, I think. I played with the picture a little bit so you can’t see these kids’ faces, but I’ll tell you their names are Garrick and Emily. Thanks for the priceless pic, guys!



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