Student Excuse #87

I am so very sorry, Professor,
For not giving my homework in on time.
I swear, I have a genuine reason
That will not lead you to think it’s a lie.

Well, you assigned the paper on Wednesday,
But I didn’t see it until Thursday,
I saw it was due by Saturday night,
But I had plans all day Thursday-Friday.

I woke up at lunch because I was sick,
A friend came in to town I never see.
My internet was down when I came back,
Printer broke: I couldn’t make a copy.

Accept my late work to prove I did it.
Oh! And how can I get extra credit?

This One Time in Middleschool…


I once knocked myself out at a basketball match. It was funny, I guess. Funny for the people watching. Funny for the coach, heck, even the mascot found it funny. I wasn’t even on the basketball team; I was just someone in the audience that came down to try and win a free tee-shirt. It was probably just going to end up a sleeping-shirt anyway, I’m not a triple-extra-large, in truth. I found the best way to make it all go so wrong so fast. There was a little trampoline a few meters from the post of the net. The goal was to jump on it and propel the ball toward the large circular goal. I say large, because it was. How hard could this be? Running like a cheetah (an overweight retired one), I leaped upon the trampoline and sprung into the air. Or at least, I would have, if I didn’t land on it funny to begin with. To cut a short story shorter, the trampoline slid backward and I shot to the ground like a faulty missile. The ball flung from my hands, hit the bottom of the basketball hoop and smacked into my face. The laughing of the crowd turned into what could be described as crashing waves at the beach. My dizziness couldn’t quite piece everything together, so I remained there while my half-concerned half-giggling parents attended to me. My adolescent pride was snuffed like a burning wick, attributing to much of my awkwardness in the later years of my life.

The Witcher’s Warning

For soothe! fiendish felon,

draw back your claws and terrible maw.

Return to your dwellings below the floor,

where the earthworms squirm and eat dirt.

Don’t challenge me or you’ll exist to be

the bothersome beast that you are.

Limb for limb, I’ll tear you apart,

until there is naught left of you

but your grin laying on the floor,

impaled by my righteous sword.



My heart

How it beats like an African drum.

A perpetual thud,

Like hundreds of tiny trotting horses,

Racing to no end.

Like thunder booming from the heavens,

Beating the clouds.

Quell this wild, wild heart before








Honey Hair


Jake’s a pretty cool kid for a grease ball,
Seems the type to be loaded with money.
But what makes Jake stand apart from them all?
The fact that his gel is made of honey!

The glistening gold goo reflects the sun,
Drawing eyes near and far upon his hair,
It’s as if his head is just a glazed bun,
Inviting all around to come and stare.

But nobody knows the trouble that comes:
The sticky truth about honey hair gel.
What do you do when the ooey goo runs?
Jake found out that it isn’t very swell.

When the day reaches its hottest degree,
Not even tree shade can stop the trickle.
On and into his jacket it’ll flee,
Leaving poor Jake in quite the tough pickle.

He feels each of his neck hairs get coated,
Skin glued to his shirt, glued to his jacket.
His flesh pulls taut each time he turns his head,
He knew deep down, he shouldn’t have tried it.

Home at last, time to purge the sticky,
Jake peels off his clothing like strong scotch tape.
It clings to his skin, proving quite tricky,
Tearing baby hairs straight from his poor nape.

Was it all worth the trouble it has been? (Ben)
Yes! Jake exclaims, he’d do it all again.

She Smells the Phlowers

I absolutely adore situational irony. Why not shove it into a sonnet!?


Situational Irony
“She Smells the Phlowers”
(In the Style of a Shakespearean Sonnet)

Gazing long from down the garden pathway,
A young maiden could be seen dressed in pink.
She crouched to where the daffodils did lay,
to caress their petals and smell their stink.

How bonny she seemed and peaceful she was,
how quiet she was and softly she seemed.
Oh I wish I could appear as she does,
such is a wish that can only be dreamed.

I leap forth as my heart does from my chest;
a spring in my step as I step into spring.
From the pathway to where her knees do rest,
I meet the eyes of this pretty young thing.

She smiled, then she sneezed, and offered a grin…
then some green phlegm dribbled down from her chin.



While I exist I bring serenity,
When missing, I will bring ungodly pain.
I can be shattered in milliseconds,
but I truly take a long while to gain.

I am here, I make lovers feel safer,
I make families stronger than ever.
I make old women feel warm in their chairs,
and I’ll make bonds which will never sever.

I am gone, and all spines feel cold as ice,
stomachs churn, throats become ever so dry.
Backs turn and nobody sees eye to eye,
and the only thought in their minds is, why?

Stronger than steel, yet as fragile as dust.
Once-born, but never twice-born. I am trust.

Happy International Woman’s Day!

I’ve never done this before! But I am going to try and catch this wave!

Here’s a sarcastic poem for the chuckles! It’s silly and quick, but I felt like writing it anyway!


What I love about being a woman

Do I like being a woman?
There’s so much to enjoy.
Allow me to enlighten you,
You’ll wish you weren’t a boy.

Now, some of you will disagree,
until your face is blue.
I know most of you will relate,
This is my point of view.

In public we have decency,
truly, rather dashing.
With powdered nose and dapper clothes,
rosy cheeks a-blushing.

You’ll never believe opposite,
though honestly it’s true.
We all want to be princesses,
despite the things we do.

Men think we have tiny stomachs,
they think it’s rather cute.
But when we’re out with the girls,
Our mouths are a food-chute.

Contrast to what’s said on the net,
the slander young boys pitch.
We can make a whole lot more,
than just a damn sandwich.

Did you know we are magical?
It is a trick of ours.
When we’re told we have five minutes,
It turns into five hours!

Oh, we love to drive in our cars,
watch how fast we will go.
Cars move to get out of our ways,
and beep to say “Hello!”

We do not have to watch T.V,
our lives are a screenplay.
It doesn’t matter where we go,
drama comes anyway.

That’s only scratching the surface,
the list is never done.
Honestly, we have a good time,
and a whole lot of fun.