A Collection of the Incoherent Ramblings
G. Derek Adams
I think this was from high school, sometime. It’s apparently a poetry portfolio, and since it’s on notebook paper, I’m guessing I did it at the last minute and banked on my native charm with our Gifted Teacher, Ms. Stephens to carry me through. And from the ‘A’ scribbled on top, I guess my plan worked. Here follows the transcript of three awful poems.
What Is A Poem?
A poem is the color of night wind blowing.
A poem is the sound of green things growing.
A poem is the taste of the headman’s blade.
A poem is the smell of bluish-green jade.
A poem is darkness.
A poem is light.
A poem’s a bandage.
A poem’s a knife.
A poem’s all of these; and more
A poem is both key and door.
OH MY GOD THAT IS TERRIBLE. ‘bluish-green jade’ really? REALLY. Oh man, I really thought I was super clever with this one — showing the scent of a sight, the sight of a smell, IT’S LIKE I’M WALT WHITMAN OVER HERE. And then the juxtaposition of ‘knife’ and ‘bandage’. Wow, it really hits you. Hits you hard, with all that TRUTH I’m dropping.
To Be Sung Tunelessly
Trees grow (in the ground)
Waters flow (up and down)
Winds blow (through the trees)
Farmers hoe (dirty knees)
(Now thank me for giving you the Secret of Life)
Holy shit. Okay, I’ve got to believe I wasn’t serious about these. I hope, I pray? Okay, last one.
I hereby state that Galileo and Copernicus were all wrong.
The world revolves around me;
Whirling and twirling in front of my eyes.
How dare they!?!
That I could possibly not be the sum total of creation!
I am not a speck of dust, oh no
It is the stars that are tiny;
No bigger than a pin head
and less important
Ha, this one wasn’t too bad. It probably also marks the last time I ever used a semi-colon.