Wednesday, November 14, 2007

   blahg
It took me all day but I got those horrible poems out of the way. Now I just have to practice my Algebra when I wake up. I almost put alchemy instead of Algebra. Yes, I've got to practice my alchemy for this afternoon. Blah, I'm out of it. I need the posts for English.

So, My Italian Sonnet is about mobsters. It took me six hours. I can't rhyme, it's annoying. So, after I wrote it I found out it needed all this other junk and was supposed to be comparing two things that are really diffent but somehow the same.
Blinded by passions,
not all is unknown.
Hatred is the most shown.
Atrocious transactions,
there are no questions,
keep silent or be blown.
Must protect your own,
from wrongful temptations.
So, that's the first half and I'm supposed to compare it to the second half.
There are no moles,
only lowly rats,
who betray the prick.
Watch for the holes,
dug for the combats.
Now in the thick.
Ugh, it's all so horrible. I hate poetry so much. I'm dreading having to critque other people. The free verse one was a little easier because it had no rules. I made it about Mica and Beryl Masters from Beryl's point of view. I like the title, but that's it. I called it; Semi-Precious Stones. Not creative, but I think it's funny. I tried to cleverly hide thier ages and time in there but failed. Oh well, I knew this was an 'F' section to start with.

Thrown aside before morals in place,
you were my soul protector.
The best doting brother by day,
at night you were a known terror.
Master of the double life,
brother I would’ve never knew.
When I was just reciting colors,
you were fiddling with wires to make an engine roar.
Always afraid when you’re gone,
hearing sounds of scattered shells beneath my window
that I believe was thunder,
I once tried to find you.
Deafening sound, point blank buckshot,
a nightmare come to light.
I realized that you were fine,
and joined you by your side.
The gun was my new life.

Hacked the ending, just wanted to end it. I actually never said Mica's ages, but I did say Beryl's. The very first line says he's three and the seventh said he was six. Actually, the ninth line says he's nine but in the twelveth line he's ten. Mica's ages went from eight to eleven to fourteen, and then fifteen.

Refresher on Mica: His parents abandonned him and Beryl when they were eight and three. Mica became a pick-pocket to get them by. When he was eleven he started robbing cars and houses. When he was fourteen he became a hired gun. When he was fifteen Beryl got out of the house to find him because he was scared. He saw Mica shoot a man point blank in the chest with buckshot, Mica's perfered weapon. Beryl later became Mica's right hand man when he became a "boss".

Scary stuff. Mica is the reason no one should listen to rap. Ten/eleven hour car ride with only bad rap, that's where he came from. Copywrite Blue Swallow Productions, but seriously, Mica...ew.

SGAH
FYWR
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