Poet's Poem (mine and his)

"The Road Not Taken"

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

"Two Roads"

You notice a clearing in the forest ahead,
But two paths there die lie.
You like the looks of both roads,
But which one? You can't decide.

There's one that leads to the river,
It's all sunny and bright.
But the path is torn, many have tred on it,
But the road seems so right.

You see the other, mysterious
You look for the path's end.
You can't see it, but along the way
You notice the track bends.

Intrigued by its mystique,
You choose the one less traveled.
And all of its mysterious wonders
You hope to unravel.

You have embraced the best of its mystery,
Its endless brilliance.
To take the road less traveled by
Has made all the difference.

I Ask You by Billy Collins

What scene would I want to be enveloped inmore than this one,
an ordinary night at the kitchen table,
floral wallpaper pressing in,
white cabinets full of glass,
the telephone silent,
a pen tilted back in my hand?

It gives me time to think
about all that is going on outside--
leaves gathering in corners,
lichen greening the high grey rocks,
while over the dunes the world sails on,
huge, ocean-going, history bubbling in its wake.
But beyond this table
there is nothing that I need,
not even a job that would allow me to row to work,
or a coffee-colored Aston Martin DB4
with cracked green leather seats.

No, it's all here,
the clear ovals of a glass of water,
a small crate of oranges, a book on Stalin,
not to mention the odd snarling fishin a frame on the wall,
and the way these three candles--each a different height--
are singing in perfect harmony.
So forgive meif I lower my head now and listen
to the short bass candle as he takes a solo
while my heart
thrums under my shirt--frog at the edge of a pond--
and my thoughts fly off to a province
made of one enormous sky
and about a million empty branches.


I like this poem because I could see myself thinking about nature, like in the second stanza. I also often find myself much like the first stanza in the same situation when we are given a buzz word at the beginning of class. This poem is very prettily written. I really like this part:

"my thoughts fly off to a province
made of one enormous sky
and about a million empty branches."

To My Drums

I love my drums,
From the kick drum to the snare.
My neighbors don't like them
Because all they hear is a blare.

It feels good playing them,
But it's better to smash.
From the pounding of the bass
To the cymbal's crash.

When I bang on my drums,
I feel a big surge
Of jamming to my favorite song
I can't resist the urge.

Every break and every beat,
All the sounds collide.
The way it comes together,
You'd say it was a bona fide
Masterpiece.

"Stone Cold Crazy" by Queen

Sleeping very soundly on a Saturday morning
I was dreaming I was Al Capone
There's a rumour going round
Gotta clear outa town
I'm smelling like a dry fish bone
Here come the law gonna break down the door
Gonna carry me away once more
Never never I never want it anymore
Gotta get away from this stone cold floor
Crazy stone cold crazy you know

Rainy afternoon I gotta blow a typhoon
And I'm playing on my slide trombone
Anymore anymore cannot take it anymore
Gotta get away from this stone cold floor
Crazy stone cold crazy you know

Walking down the street
Shooting people that I meet
With my rubber tommy water gun
Here come the deputy
He's gonna come and getta me
Gotta get me get up and run
They got the sirens loose I ran right outa juice
They're gonna put me in a cell
If I can't go to heaven
Will they let me go to hell?
Crazy stone cold crazy you know

I chose this song cus it's crazy and totally awesome for rockin out. I love Queen's style, how they can blend classical strings with electric guitars. I also like how obscure the lyrics can get.

This song is about a guy dreaming he was Al Capone, committing various crimes. Lines like "Shooting people with my water tommy gun" are a little tongue-in-cheek, and are supposed to let the audience know that the song is a joke.

basement dj

Records are a work of art.

Take one,
Then another.
Put them together, Make something new.
It’s dope,
It’s ill.

I blow the dust off another black circle.
Another forgotten memory,
Lost talent that time forgot.
The cracks, the hiss, and the pop.
An old sound never sounded so new.

In the darkness of the basement,
I’m mysterious
As a shadow cascading off the wall

Making my own beats,
Cutting up breaks like a musical chef.
You cannot comprehend
My melodic genius,

The outsider.

-

The staircase of life is endless.
The question is.....

How far will you go?

The EPIC Throwdown

The throw down of the universe had begun.
Punches came from the left, kicks from the right.
He delivered a big shot that knocked his opponent over,
A hit so powerful it would break your legs.
His arms split and shattered like glass from the super kick,
Then he looked up and thought he saw the light.

Not backing away, he called his opponent a "light weight".
He threw punches as if shot from a cannon.
Down his rival went, black rings around his eyes.
The man feared that his head would break,
And he wanted to set his rival right.

He said, "Let's go. Right now."
His opponent knew it was going down.
"Not before I break your legs!" he retaliated.
"Nope! You're going out like a light!" he replied.
He had one more shot to prove himself.
"This here uppercut will blow you away!"

But that uppercut did not blow him away,
Nor did a single strike break his legs.
"Perhaps a super kick will set you straight," his foe said.
"Whatev. Hit me with your best shot!" screamed the man.