Just a bit of sillyness

So I've been going through lots of old documents saved on my computer and back up hard drive and found some old poems that I wrote in my first few semesters at BYU-I.  I love writing poems, and must have a knack for it because they flow very easily for me.  Most of them are so silly and full of nonsense I've chosen not to share them, but there are a few that I've decided to post just for fun.  They are pretty silly and immature but they are funny, so here they are.

This first one I actually wrote as a senior in high school.  In order understand it you have to be familiar with Edgar Allan Poe's poem "The Truth of Annabel lee.  I'll post it here for reference.

Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

Edgar Allan Poe

 

Now here's my version

 

The Truth of Annabel lee

Annabel Lee, who use to live by the sea,

Finally found out, life’s actual key.

Life’s not about things like love and death,

But really is about, her best friend Beth.

Beth was a good friend, who knew the right way,

She liked to sing, and to go out and play.

Beth made Ann laugh; she sure made her smile,

She helped sort out her feelings when they became a great pile.

Then along came old Poe, with his poetry and rhyme,

He spoke real sweet words, and always spoke in time.

Annabel ditched Beth, to be with old Poe,

That’s when Beth, stole Poe’s big Bow.

She was jealous of Poe for stealing her friend,

So she put an arrow to the bow, and pulled the string bend.

The arrow it flew right in to Ann’s heart,

Then Beth got away, in Poe’s new white golf cart.

And that’s the truth of the death of Annabel lee,

The maiden who once lived out by the sea.

Now Poe is depressed and cries though the night,

While Beth is now pleased, to be done with her spite.

-Jaylene Riley

(Jaylene Riley was my pen name in high school, and it's just kind of stuck since then)

Here's another one, I must have wrote this on a day when I was not feeling to well. :)

Blah to Girlhood

There’s a song that says, “I enjoy being a girl,”

Whenever I hear this, all I want to do is hurl. 

For what a lie this song is, line after line,

It makes my finger twitch, to give a nasty sign.

For what is so great, about the feminine race?

Who wants to “dress up,” and practically choke themselves with lace?

Doing your hair, now that sure is fun,

Until you go out, and to your surprise, there’s no sun.

So instead of the straight, smoothness on your head,

The rain, wind, and snow, turns your “good” look into dead.

And what about makeup?  Now that sure’s a curse,

But If you go without it, the boys will call for you a nurse.

There are so many expectations, so many dos and then don’ts,

And I’m sick of it, I tell you, and living like this I wonts.

Don’t chastise me now, because I was grammatically incorrect,

For if I was a boy no criticism I would get.

Now talking about boys, there’s a whole other issue,

They can be jerks, yet they’re perfect, and you wonder if they miss you.

You ponder if they’re real, do they like me or not,

Will he ask me out again, because I think, indeed, he ought.

But it’s sure not up to us, if going out again we will,

But if it happens, we’re required to put on lots of stupid frill.

And what about mood swings, we have no control

When those awful tings hit, I want to hide in a hole.

For they truly do suck, Blah to the world,

I’m under so much stress, I’m becoming uncurled.

It’s pathetic I tell you, I hate being a girl,

Excuse me, now, I need to go hurl.

-Jaylene Riley

 

I know, it's special, but it still makes me laugh. 

 

And here's the last one that I've deemed worthy to be posted, this is one is probably one of my favorites.  I'll never forget this day.

 

My Mistake

Sitting in English, with my mind a racing,

I’m resisting the urge, to stand up and start pacing.

Who cares about formalists, alliterations, and Shakespeare?

I have no desire to rhyme, ready Macbeth, or King Lear.

I just want to write, to show my sarcasm,

To make up my own words, unique, like tourgasm.

The meaning, unknown, to all but of course me,

Oh blah, right now, I’d rather be stuck in a tree.

Now don’t get me wrong, English is my love,

But this book of poetry, over I cliff I want to shove.

No, not because of reasons you might think,

Ok, so the truth, right now my situation sure does stink.

You see, before leaving home to come to class today,

I forgot to use the latrine and left right on my way.

Planning to use the facilities that are here,

But on my walk, a friend I met oh so dear.

We got to chatting, my time was then gone,

I hurried to class, running faster than a fawn.

And now here I sit, fighting this sudden urge,

Because creating a mess, I’m close on the verge.

But yet here I sit, writing to relieve stress,

At least I’m not wearing, a nice, pretty dress.

It’s ironic to think what this poem is about,

But yet here I sit, starting to fill with doubt.

Will I make it, to the end?

-Jaylene Riley

 

By the way, I did make it, but barely. :)

 

Hope you all enjoyed!

 

 

 

Lacey