Free Verse

This is not a poem.

Free Verse,

which is prose,

is what this is.

This has no rhyme.

This has no meter.

How could this be

Poetry?

It's not.

And if you think it is,

Prove it.

I don't believe you.

This is but

Broken Fragments

Strung along a page,

ink on paper,

hardly even there.

This is not a poem.

Poems ebb

and flow like water

from the mountains to the sea.

This halts,

stopping and starting,

like a butterfly among flowers.

But, of course,

it's not like that,

because that would be poetic.

This isn't.

This is not a poem.

Poetry rhymes

and sounds complete

because it is.

But this

sounds broken

incomplete

like a puzzle with half the pieces missing

but, of course,

it's not like that,

because that would be poetic.

This isn't.

This is not a poem.

Poetry has stanzas,

meter, clear devisions

things to make it

make sense.

All this has

is broken thoughts

inconsistency

like a great cloud blown by the wind.

But, of course,

it's not like that,

because that would be poetic.

This isn't.

This is not a poem.

Don't tell me that it is.

I don't believe you.

Switzerland?

So I've started getting college spam. Lots and lots of college spam. You know, the "more emails in a day than you've gotten in your entire life until now" kind of spam.
I think it's because of my SAT score... That would explain Stanford, MIT, and Westminister, anyway. But I got this one from Switzerland. They told me that we live in an increasingly global world, which makes sense until you think about it. And then they told me that I should go to Switzerland and attend college there. Also, Switzerland is apparently the gateway to Europe. I thought the airport was the gateway, but hey, that's just me.

Cripes

"Hey, it's not that bad. When I first got here, I almost got eaten by cripes," said Reed with a shrug.
"You keep talking about cripes, and yet you still refuse to explain what they are," complained David, keeping a wary eye on Luxor as she fired up a welding torch.
"What sort of questions do you have about them?"
"Well, for starters, what are they?"
"We're pretty sure they're reptiles, but they move too fast for us to tell definatively."
"How fast can they go?"
"Faster than anything Luxor's invented thus far. Which would make it...." He counted on his fingers for a moment. "About the speed of sound."
David sat in stunned silence for a moment. "You're kidding."
"Nope. They're really, really fast."
"And they eat people?"
"They eat anything. Well, anything that wanders into their territory. We marked the danger zone a while back."
"So how'd you get away?"
"We're talking about cripes, not me. Any other questions?"
"Yeah... Why'd you call them cripes?"
"It's the least offensive thing anyone's ever said upon encountering one."
"Ah." David pondered that for a minute. "What do they look like?"
"Blurs. Deadly ones."
"Any way to tell if one's coming?"
"If your arm is suddenly missing, there's one nearby."
David winced. "So I should avoid those then?"
"Probably," Reed admitted with a casual shrug, then gestured towards Luxor. "Weren't you keeping an eye on her?"
Luxor casually tossed another stick of dynamite onto the pile of scrap metal and explosives, then lit the welding torch again. "Blastoff in five, four, three...."
Reed ducked under the table. "You should probably hide."
David didn't argue.

DPC?

So I might have won the DPC. Or I might have lost. I'm not entirely sure. If Dana got disqualified for not posting on the twenty third, I won. If he didn't, I lost. And he didn't post on the twenty third, but he says that was a computer problem. Oh well. I don't particularly care anyway.
In other news, markers are awesome. As is LaserQuest, where I get to go today!