Hello anyone that reads my blog, (you're sexy. that's right. you're sexy. I complimented you. I love on if you read this. yeah. that's right. read my posts more often. because I love you. I know my punctutation sucks. it's your opposite. that's right. one more compliment. love you. now read the rest of my crap, ya beautiful piece of ass.)

Apart from that long intro, hi.
I know I haven't written in a long time. I keep on meaning to, but today I had a lot of homework, so I decided, hey, you know what? Instead of doing all this work I should do, let me just procrastinate. I know, I'm responsible as hell.

Okay, but today I have a challenge for myself. Let me explain it to you. We're doing a poetry unit in English right now, and I want to show you a poem someone(aka a GOODASS AUTHOR) wrote:

In a Station of the Metro

The apparition of these faces in the crowd;

petals on a wet, black bough.

Ezra Pound

That's it. THIS BLEW MY MIND. *keyboard spasm* There's such a great amount of imagery in this. Seriously. What a kid/man/poet/ungodly thing that sold his soul to the demon for this kind of SKILLZ.

Anyways, my English teacher said you have to be a pretty strong writer to do this kind of stuff. So I decided, since I'm not a strong writer, why don't I go and try to humiliate myself on the internet? Yes. 

So, the challenge is that I'm going to look out my window and find two images, and try to write them as a one line poem. No dictionaries, nothing. Just an everyday test of the literary skills (NO). Anyways, I had best be starting.

Alright, let me look outside. 

Things seen:
- River

- ripples because it's raining

- yellow street lights

- twlight darkness settling in

The pearly raindrops dance on the river surface,

twilight darkness seeping through the weary bones of the city.

That didn't take too long(5 seconds max, I blew it, damn.). But it's probably poop(yes, that's right. I like saying poop. yes. no, it's not a swearing thing. I tell my mother I love her with this mouth and I have quite a dirty one on occasion. yes. back to actual writing now).

Okay, next thing I'm going to do is look around my room now. This is going to be harder. All I see is evidence of entropy. Crap. This is going to suck even more. I'm sorry to inflict literary pain on you.

Things seen:
- curtains billowing because of open window

- grossly messy bed because of all the pillows/stuff from school I dumped on it

- ME (oh yes, sexy little me, MMM. jk. that would be weird. or narcissistic.)

- wires from my charges dangling over my bedside table (potential poem piece? alliteration there? didya catch it? you're welcome)

- books on the shelves. tons of them.

No, I'm not going to write a two line poem on all of this stuff. You can only fit so much in one line.

A room with a view of the endless entropy that a busy life grants us,

books scattered on shelves like water splattered across the window after it rains.

I tried SO hard. I like the first one better. Okay, my dog just walked into the room. I want to write a poem about him

Things seen:
- ONE CUTE DALMATIAN DOG AND HE IS MIIINE

He gazes up at me with his adoring, brown eyes,

his ears flopping over  his face like petals on a tired flower.