EXTERMINAAAAAAAAAATE!!!
"This is the emperor of the daleks"
"WOR-SHIP HIM! WOR-SHIP HIM! WOR-SHIP HIM!"
Wouldn't that be absolutely amazing if I won one? I could take it to school and get in it and yell "EX-FOL-I-ATE!" to people. So hopefully...*fingers crossed*
Oh dear, I entered a comp to interview David Tennant in London but I obviously didn't win. *sniff* Ah well, we can't all have...true...dreams, ahem.
Anyway, today is a turning point in the month, for we have our Christmas treeeeeeeeee!!! Hurrah! I have spent most of the day putting up the decorations and all the completely random stuff our family has at Christmastime, for instance:
- A straw goat from Sweden that goes next to the Christmas tree.
- A huge photo of Prince Charles' head mounted on cardboard (there is a backstory to this, but I always forget what it is).
- A gnome that goes on the mantlepiece.
- Loads and loads of "off the ceiling" Christmas cards my Dad buys for the family every year. You know the sort, with jokes like: 'Margaret recieved a standing ovation for her Christmas cake laced with viagra.' Anyway, these have photoes of the family stuck in with speech bubbles and stuff.
- Swedish advent calenders. (My parents have a long-lasting connection with Sweden).
- An old Christmas song book where you pressed buttons and it played notes for carols. It hasn't worked for years, but we keep it as a memory of when me and Joe (ME AND JOE, ELIZABETH, HAHAHA) used to fight over it.
And I could go on. So yayzels, it's all up (albeit a bit early) and once we have enough Xmas cards from people I will do my annual job and sticking them up on the bannisters (I know, another weird tradition).
I wrote this poem as a sort of simple version of the ones we do in English. Have a look-see and comment, if you will. (n.b: I don't know whether it should be "can" or "can't")
Can't we but laugh
Over loves we have lost;
Through summers of romance
That ended in frost?
Can't we but joke
About ones that are gone;
Those rascals who ruined
True love's gentle song?
Can't we but shrug
And leave sadness behind;
Of all those decievers
Who said, "love is blind"?
Can't we but live
Our lives without pain;
How hard can it be
To say "never again"?
I did try and think of an ending but got stuck. I am reasonably (sort of) adept at poetry, but I'm not brilliant, like my Dad.
Must go and view our beautiful tree. Byeeeee!
*rises up into the air and floats downstairs*
And you thought you were safe, eh?
5 Comments:
I think you're right to go with "can't". Can't is more wistful - it suggests that the answer is, no, we can't. "Can" would make the poem sound more petulant, the underlying message being: buck up everyone and stop whingeing. (Though maybe that's what you're going for, in which case...) Is your dad a poet, then?
By Marie, at 8:33 AM
ITS 14 DAYS TO GO ROS... GET IT RIGHT WOMAN!!!
Oh yeah, I saw another possum riding a bike.
By Sophie B, at 8:44 AM
Marie: He isn't a poet; he's an English teacher.
Sophie: ...possum.
By Rosby, at 9:09 AM
You know, I haven't said you're getting it on with Jack for a long time; if you annoy me anymore...*runs finger across throat*
By Rosby, at 5:33 AM
Yayzels! Good poem!
Hannah, when you talk about social suicide I dearly want to kill you. So don't, okies?
*exterminates her and runs off cackling*
By Anonymous, at 12:27 PM
Post a Comment
<< Home