Sunday, June 7, 2009

Isaak's poetry

For his English assignment, they had to write 10 poems using other poetry as a template. Here are his:

A sneaky, secret chameleon,
I mark a little connection to what mastery one should work toward.
It vanishes and becomes the Cheshire Cat; you could see its smile.
Its mouth opens quicker than a heartbeat and catches a fly in the woods.
Its tongue launched straight ahead… straight ahead… with powerful precision.
Its smile returns, wider and larger, but it can’t leave a contented burp.

A perfect, hypothetical human,
Full-grown, well-educated, all-around, and smiling, he is ready to take on anything.
Anyone in need of being taken care of can be taken care of in his presence.
Anything obstacle covering the path he seeks can be removed with wits and courage.
His reputation deeply swells… deeply swells… in powerful precision.
His smile returns, wider and larger, with the similarities of the chameleon’s fill.





I’ve seen children
That spent time playing
I’ve seen children
That tripped and cried
I’ve see children that act as an example like
Being the tallest tree in the forest.

I’ve seen children
I’ve seen children act important
and bossy and hateful.
I’ve seen children that react and cower
As they get picked like
Giants shoving trees out of sight.

I’ve seen children
I’ve seen children stay inside and play video games
To get their brains wired
I’ve seen children
That loved
Their mothers, fathers, siblings, and friends.

Oh yes, I’ve seen children…






Whenever thunder cracks the hills,
Whenever walruses wail,
Whenever sprinkler overdrive
Pours on mills,
From the depths arises a yellow tail.
It, struck before,
Attracts a shock.
How does it survive such a nasty mock?

The creature rises, resembling a seal.
It heads towards the eye of the storm,
When lightning and thunder
Come down for their meal,
By at the tail makes a dorm,
By at the tail makes a dorm,
And then,
By the shock it flushes again.






There was an old man with two eyes.
They can pop quite far with surprise.
His wife thought her aid
Malfunctions again
Until she saw the old man’s popped eyes!






I have known
Pretty young girls
And handsome young boys;
Their matches.

Date after date
And location after location
They kiss, and cry
And wave goodbye
Sometimes they part
And join up again.

Today
I hug the tree.








With their
hooting,
guffawing cries,
hyenas spread
creature
comedy.








How doth the
smelly little rat
Improve his
garbage reek,
And invade
dumpsters all around
In every house
he squeaks!

How vulnerable
he seems to be!
How predictable nearby;
The cat
pounces and
eats the rat—
HAAAACK!
How can’t she die?






A jittery stranger in the deep
Ambles
Underneath,
While way up high its many dangers
Pass by above
His sheath.

The burgundy signal
And he gets
Swept away
By the playful puffs of gray
Tickling in
Every way.

He settles in a dung heap
But never
Launches stench,
Rather takes care of the leafy gods
In the
Open trench.

He digs in through rich chocolate
And creates
Helpful humus,
For Mother Earth suffocates
And he must save her
And us!

He is shunned by its thick lard,
Size, shape,
And being,
Care can only be so helpful
As if it
Must sing!









Flap! Flap! Woof!
Flap! Flap! Woof!
A flying dog is in my house;
His existence is enough.

He flew in through the window
And broke my mom’s Greek vase.
Stephanie asks, “Can we keep him?”
But he’s a great disgrace.
He flew and smashed nine dishes,
He flew and startled the cat,
His paws left marks in Play-Doh—
Hey! Give back Sebastian’s hat!

Flap! Flap! Woof!
Flap! Flap! Woof!
A flying dog is in my house;
His existence is enough!

He played tug-o-war with my suits on hangers,
His barks are louder than shrill yells,
He wrestled Stephanie’s stuffed “Betsy”,
And Cupid shot him when he saw silver bells.
Every minute he influences thrice
That includes twice of my concern,
If only he would fly a—
No! Stop pooping in my fern!
Will he ever learn?!

Flap! Flap! Woof!
Flap! Flap! Woof!
A flying dog is in my house;
His existence is ENOUGH!






I
liv
four
skul
cant
wat
four
skul
I
wac
up
just
too
goh
too
skul
I
studie
their
to
luk
ahed
Id
sta
untill
I
goh
too
bed
Sins
wen
Im
thru
Im
fre
too
rom,
mature
as
evir
frum
skin
to
bohne
Sucses
is
strait
ahed
in
vyo;
Im
ready
four
soh
much
too
doo!






K, I'm completely flabbergasted. I actually didn't believe he wrote these and had to go back and see the original works to see if he really did just use them for ideas and write these poems on his own. I'm utterly in shock. Really amazing poetry here. I'm going to have to go study them, now.

6 comments:

Marinela said...

Such a lovely peoms :)
Thanks for sharing :)

Penny said...

WOW!!! I can't believe he wrote these. In the first place, just to spell words wrong goes against his grain. How did he write the skul poem without a lot of turmoil and confict? It shows he can think outside the box.

I love the rat poem, and pretty girls. Actually, all of them. He is truly amazing.

Sarah said...

That's some dang good poetry.

Susan M said...

Stop pooping in my fern! Haha.

Brilliant.

Shelley said...

Wow Isaak!! So impressive!

David Jensen said...

amazing stuff. no way i could write like that!