The abnormally funny and weird

The abnormally funny and weird

Sitting here in Kramer's class, wishing that I had a glass

Of somthing cool, perhaps iced tea? That would be real lov-er-ly.

Something cool to drink and sip, to swallow down while here I sit.

This heat I bear is much too hot. It's melting me--I need a pop.

But only if that pop is cold; I do not like them warm and old.

I like them fresh from the ice box, burried deep within cold rocks.

Rocks that melt but still are cool, like diving straight into a pool.

Pools-oh I love to swim; I like to jump right into them.

I love to swim and splash around and yell and make a lot of sound.

The water makes me feel great; that kind of bliss no one could hate.

But I'm not there within that bliss: that nice, cool water that I miss.

I'm sitting here in Kramer's class wishing that I had a glass...

--Esther Duman 5/24/99

*Alright, this is one of those weird poems I mentioned. Now before you freak out, this poem was written as an assignment for my senior english class with Mr. Gordon. We were told to write a work where we accidentally revealed something to the reader that we hadn't meant to reveal, and then try to brush it off. It was absolutly stressed that this was to be a work of FICTION because Mr. Gordon "didn't want to hear any of our dirty laundry!" It was inspired by teacher's meetings held in our school's resource center, which my locker and my best friend's locker book-ended. We could be found in front of our lockers most mornings before school, and we always watched them crowd in that room for those meetings. Anyway, if you know me, and I don't know why else you'd be reading this page, you'll probably find this as humorous as I do. I know I sure had fun writing it, and I had even more fun when I got my paper back graded 10/10 with the word twisted underlined several times underneath the grade. Enjoy!

Not Quite Me (a dramatic monologue)

I love being at school in the morning.

Before all the students, the teachers are there.

They're busily planning their schedules with care.

They grade and correct and make copies of tests

And sip their black coffee with jokes and with jests.

But at seven thirty they all pile down

To the resource center where they gather around.

They listen to lectures and learn the new rules

And try to protect us from dangerous schools.

They never suspect all the innocent ones;

They think only bad kids carry chains, knives, and guns.

I've looked at them in there, all packed like sardines,

The more teachers that entered, the easier it seemed.

But I couldn't do that, I'd thought many times;

My heart isn't like those that do all those crimes.

You see, I'm the good kid, the one teachers like.

I do all my work, and my answers are right.

I joke, and I laugh, and I seem to have fun-

They couldn't have guessed that I carried a gun.

Their screams and their shouts made my ears ring with glee,

Then happier still when the silence was free...

I love being at school in the morning.

It's so quite and peaceful...

Kiddie Bliss

Yea! It's T.P.!

It's time to make a mess!

To get down on your hands and knees

And live in kiddie bliss.

Throw that one roll over here

Drape it over this lamp.

Let's use blankets, let's use chairs

Let's make a T.P. Camp.

Wrap your little brother tight

Cover all his skin.

A mummy stalks throughout the night!

Let's all tackle him!

Wrap your head a turban,

An exotic-looking cap

Cover all that you can see.

Hey! Here comes the cat...!

                      -E.Duman 04/01

Sleep deprivation

where's my salvationg?

I call for it thrice!

Appeared from thin air.

and lay my head down.

Too many poets in the tackle box

The trout flips about

Trying to find a way out.

And there is little doubt

That he will not get out

Though he may flip about

And twist and scream and shout.

What are you talking about?

Now don't you go and pout

Just because you can't find a rhyme with clout.

Shall we have it out

And whether he can scream and shout?

It's a metaphore, you lout!

Let's try another route.

By E.Duman and L.Lynn 11/11/99