I am a nerd, but I need to practice!

I plan to write an alternate ending
For the play Romeo and Juliet,
So I must practice writing in meter.

I am not good at writing in meters,
I can hardly make a decent haiku.
But forsooth! This post will hence be written
In iambic pentameter, like so.
(Omitting those certain stressed syllables 
Of course, because they are such a hassle,
And Shakespeare doesn't always adhere thus.)


I think that this meter is so oft' used
Because humans have ten fingers, not nine
Or eight or fourteen or seventy-two - 
Ten have we, and so we count in base ten
And write in iambic pentameter.

The music of the moment is pleasant,
Or rather, that is, peasant not pleasant;
It is Poet and Peasant Overture!
Which we hath sight-read in Wind Ensemble,
Much to my utter excitement inside
(Though not expressed outwardly at the time,
For fear I would be singled out by he,
Who is the most fearsome band director
In the kingdom, or at least in the state.)
 I love Poet and Peasant Overture;
It features in a cartoon of my youth
Which is called Hep Cat Symphony, behold: 

What a wonder that this film which I loved
Contained so much great classical music,
Which I have later grown to greatly love!

And now, moving onto relevant things
(Perhaps sealing wax, cabbages, and kings?)
No, I chide, I was merely making rhyme
(Yet Wonderland is always relevant!) 
Banqueto is tomorrow, I can't wait! 
We are slaves to the elders, oh such joy!
It will be fun, in spite of our bondage
For I am sure that the feast will be grand!


This gets easy as I keep going on,
Although I still must count on my fingers,
It is somehow becoming rather fun.
And though I wish to revert to normal,
I seem to be unable to stop this
Madness, forever I shall always write 
Alas, in iambic pentameter. 


I believe I am done here. This was fun!
DFTBA, with love from Virgil. 

Poetry Makes My Ears Go *BOOM*

Hiiiii....So today I wrote a poem, I'm going to post it. I know it sucks but I don't care. It actually just doesn't make sense....

My POEM:

Once upon a time,

There was a little lime,

He fell in love with a pear

But had to despair

For the pear was in love with the thyme.

Wasn't that fantastic?

Now, onto my post. Today was rather boring, so I won't write about it. I'm gonna write about poetry. (About Poetry, not WRITE poetry) Poetry...poooooeeeettttrrryyyy.....pppppppppoetry....pppoooooooooEtry.. ..poeeeeeeeeetry... POETRY...poetry? pooooooppetry...popopopopopopopopoppopopoetry. yeah...somehow, the thought of me writing about poetry for my post is just....weird. So, er, um, I'm gonna switch the topic...*mind goes blank* ya know what? I'm just going to call it quits for tonight. I'm very sleepy(hahahaha...House and xiy complained that lately all my posts have been about me being sleepy and me not liking Greek at this time....sorry, but I think it's going to be like that again), and I have Greek tomorrow....which I hate right now :)

G'night

Lynda

Blue Laws

Whoa... This new posting thing is so cool...wow...
*ahem* Anyway, today's the first day of the first official Six Little Curly Fries theme week! From an agreement reached in the comments section of the previous post, the curly fries have decided to tell you wonderful readers about blue laws this week. So go get your food and drink from the Tower (look, it's a lovely neon black color today!), and sit down and listen to me ramble on.
So. A "blue law" is a law generally found in the United States that were originally supposed to enforce various religious standards; most of them were about alcohol and Sundays, though not necessarily together. Some say that blue laws are called blue laws because they were originally printed on blue paper. However, that has never been proven. Most blue laws have been declared unconstitutional or just left unenforced.
...Hmm. I just Googled "blue laws," and apparently a real blue law is just any law regarding drinking/gossiping/"sinful" behavior done on Sundays, though my US History teacher said that a "blue law" is just any unenforced silly law. So, in order to keep you readers interested, I will go with the latter definition (if you want to hear about the colonial blue laws and/or legal drinking times, or just background stuff on *real blue laws*, please leave a comment and I or another curly fry will do a post on it).
Y'know what? Just to clear up confusion, we could call these laws "silly laws." Whether they're *blue* or not, they're still funny and interesting, and I'm all about keeping you guys interested (whether I do a good job is another matter entirely). People, please vote on the naming--should we stick with "blue laws," or change it to "silly laws"?
[Basically, that last paragraph was a disclaimer; I don't want people--i.e., legal buffs--telling me I don't know what the heck I'm talking about. Maybe I do, maybe I don't; the laws are still real, even if they're not blue laws.]
Here goes:
1) In Maine, a law says that people are required to take shotguns to church in case of a Native American attack.
2) In Watersboro, Maine, it is illegal to have a dog leash over eight feet long.
3) Men with shaved chests are not allowed to run around in Omaha, Nebraska.
4) In Colorado, one is not allowed to mutilate a rock in a state park.
5) Throwing missiles at cars is illegal in Alamosa, Colorado (gee, I never knew that!).
6) Women must get permission from their husbands in order to wear false teeth in Vermont.
7) It is also illegal in Vermont to tie a giraffe to a telephone pole.
8) In Akron, Ohio, it is illegal to sell colored chickens.
9) In Indiana, the value of pi is, by law, 3.
10) In Florida, if an elephant is left tied to a parking meter, the parking fee has to be paid just as it would for a vehicle.

I think ten laws is enough for one day. Don't worry; Carrie, Lynda, House, Virgil, and Momo will all be posting blue/silly laws for you wonderful readers.


Lastly, I would like to end with a poem. It is "Ode," by Arthur O'Shaughnessy, and it's probably (1) the most epic poem ever, (2) one of the few pieces of poetry I really, really love, (3) EPICNESS INCARNATE, and (4) Just awesome.
If you hate the poem, it's okay; I'll accept that. I like to think of myself as very open to people's opinions. ^.^
Oh, and by the way, apparently there is an abridged version of the poem (three stanzas) and then there's the entire poem (nine stanzas). I'll just be posting the abridged one because I don't want this post to be too long; it's long enough already.

Ode
Arthur William Edgar O'Shaughnessy

We are the music makers,
And we are the dreamer of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-breakers,
And sitting by desolate streams;
World-losers and world-forsakers,
On whom the pale moon gleams:
Yet we are the movers and shakers
Of the world for ever, it seems.

With wonderful deathless ditties,
We build up the world's great cities,
And out of a fabulous story
We fashion an empire's glory:
One man with a dream, at pleasure,
Shall go forth and conquer a crown;
And three with a new song's measure
Can trample an empire down.

We, in the ages lying
In the buried past of earth,
Built Nineveh with our sighing,
And Babel itself with our mirth;
And o'erthrew them with prophesying
To the old of the new world's worth;
For each age is a dream that is dying,
Or one that is coming to birth. 

See you guys next week!
-xiy

Happy Mother's Day!

Good morning Curly Fries (and our super followers)! If you didn't already know, today is mother's day. We should all be honoring our mothers today, but in case you forgot, here is a poem that you can print out and give to your mommy to tell her how much you love her!

Mommy I Love You
Mommy, I love you
For all that you do.
I'll kiss you and hug you
'Cause you love me, too.
You feed me and need me
To teach you to play,
So smile 'cause I love you
On this Mother's Day.
Nicholas Gordon