Worse Poetry

I never remembered that there was a short-lived literary magazine* at my high school. But, low and behold, when I went upstairs to my room to head to bed late last night, I started poking around a little bit (one of my projects for the summer/fall is doing a massive cleaning up there and getting rid of everything I don't need). On top of a pile of boxes was a booklet stapled together with a blue cover, entitled "Paint Me As I Am." 

I didn't know what it was at first. I thought it was something left over from my sister's years at the jr./sr. high, but when I saw the worn post-it note on the cover with my name on it and my fourth and fifth hour classes from Spring 2003 listed, I became exceptionally curious. 

Some of the entries are anonymous, some chose to keep their names attached to their work. Two of my poems were chosen to be included in the journal. And they're awful. So deliciously awful, in fact, that I wanted to share. 

Ahem. 

A Garden 

A bench

Set in a grove 

Flowers blossoming all around

Lilies 

Roses

Daisies

Chrysanthemums

All under a willow tree 

With low flowing branches

That grab you with love and wonder

Beside the gently babbling brook

Water softly engulfing pebbles 

With every breath it takes

Around the pebbles swim

Tiny fish

Frolicking within the 

Great expanse of what they call home

Birds sing gaily in the trees

Singing the bird song

Telling of a Garden

Nature's Garden

And, of course, the quintessential angsty high school poem, complete with subtle title, no? 

Leave me be

anger 

rage

it's not all good

don't care what you say

so mad

life hates me

shut up and listen for once 

be happy

'cause 

you're one of the lucky ones 

you probably have a life

that's all milk and honey

well you know what

i have no happy life

cause I'm not like you

don't even go there

 nor start your

foolish hypocrisy

cause it's not all good

don't laugh

not funny

don't you see

it's not all good

leave me be

One thing to understand--something that I have to keep reminding myself of--is that these poems were written when I was freshman in high school. Other than that, I'll let them speak for themselves. Happy Wednesday. :)

*If I remember correctly. I don't remember it lasting much longer than one semester because it might have been a class that put it together--but it's been about 9 years and the details have since escaped me.