Contrary Mary

So this poem was inspired by a number of things. I recently read the book Mary, Bloody Mary, about Queen Mary. It was quite good, actually. But anyway, the little nursery rhyme – Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow? – is about Queen Mary. And then, I also got for Christmas The Pocket Muse, which is an excellent source of inspiration for writing, and there was an opposites exercise in there, so that gave me the idea for this poem too. It was sort of a mix of things that all came together and made – well, this. Hope you guys like it!

I once loved a beautiful lass

Her name was that of Mary

I tried to please her very hard

But, oh, she was so contrary

I came to her one morning

And offered her a kiss

She tried to slap me in response

I’m lucky that she missed

One day I brought her flowers of purple

Her favorite color, I knew

But she seized them from me

And through the air they flew

On her birthday I brought her a cake

She slowly took my dessert

And in my face she shoved it

Saying she would rather eat dirt

Beautiful Mary was always complaining

About her broken fence

But when I fixed it and showed it to her

She seemed to take offense

First, she chased me off her lot

Then, as I watched with moony eyes

She kicked down the fence

With cross, contrary cries

I kept trying to win her heart

For several years more

Until one day I found out

We were moving down the shore

When I told her of the news

She said she couldn’t care less

But I thought that she might miss me

Even if that’s not what she expressed

So I gave her a ticket

To visit me by train

But she remained as contrary as ever –

She visited me by plane.

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The Show Must Go On

Sometimes I feel like my life

Is a drama, played out on stage

Boring in some parts –

But oh, here’s a new twist!

And suddenly I’m in a situation

With so many doors

For me to chose

The audience, laughs, mocks

The choice is obvious to them

They can just read ahead

But I can’t

Oh, the dramatic irony!

They know that I know

And that he doesn’t know that I know

And I, of course, am not supposed to know

But he told her, who told me

Because she felt she had to

– Breathe –

It’s a right pickle, it is.

I wish I was in the audience

So I could watch

With excited anxiety

And enjoy it

But, alas, I am the star

The main character

And you know what they say –

The show must go on.

Mount Olympus

I wrote this poem for a Social Studies project. Our current unit is Ancient Greece  and I chose this as my project because I have Mythology as a class, so I figured this would be no research and easy peasy pie. Hope you like it!

This is a tale told by a mountain

The highest one in Greece

Home of the 12 Olympians

Where heaven and earth supposedly meet

Where is it said that all is peaceful

Where no rain nor snow ever falls

Where thin clouds surround the peaks

And radiant sunshine reflects off the walls

Because I am the home of the gods

I have seen it all

I can tell you all about the 12 Olympians

 Each of them – from the big to the small

Zeus is the King of the Gods and the Sky

He is mighty and strong

But do not be under the impression

That he can do no wrong

His conniving, cheating ways

Are of great annoyance to his wife

Who gets revenge on all of Zeus’s lovers

Cursing them for the rest of their life

She’s the Queen of the Gods and Goddess of Marriage

Hera is her name

And because she can’t punish Zeus

His lovers must take the blame

Poseidon holds a trident

The Ruler of the Sea

Earth-Shaker, horse-maker

A brother of the Big Three

The final brother is the Ruler of the Dead

God of the Underworld and Wealth

He rarely comes to Olympus

Preferring to keep to himself

Hades is his name

Persephone his kidnapped wife

He took her to the Underworld

So there she must stay for the rest of her life

Next we have Athena

Daughter of Zeus alone

She was born from his head

Wearing armor and fully grown

She is the Goddess of Wisdom

And with her olive tree

Became the Patron of Athens

The Gray-eyed’s special city

Another son of Zeus

Is Apollo, God of Truth and Light

He is also connected to the sun

Because his name means “shining” or “bright”

He is also called The Healer,

The Archer-god as well

And it is said a false word

From his lips never has fell

His twin-sister is the Goddess of the Hunt

Artemis is her name

She is connected to the moon

And shoots her silver arrows with deadly aim

She is The Lady of All Wild Things

Preserver of youth

But she is not all peaceful

She’s rather harsh, to tell the truth

Ares is a son of Zeus and Hera

The bloodthirsty God of War

He loves a good fight

Always wanting more

Ares is not married

But his lover is

Aphrodite, Goddess of Love and Beauty

And the fairest of all, Paris says

Some stories say she is a daughter of Zeus

Others that she was born from sea foam

She is wife to Hephaestus

To whom the forge is home

He is the God of Fire

And of all the Olympians, is the only ugly one

And that is just because

He is Hera’s son

She saw how ugly he was

And she was ashamed

She threw him from my mountain tops

Or so Milton claims

Hermes is yet another son of Zeus

Some call him the Master Thief

He is The God of Commerce and Market

And wears winged sandals upon his feet

He is the Messenger of the Gods

Graceful, cunning and shrewd

And of all the 12 Olympians

Probably the most familiar to you

Hestia is Zeus’s sister

She is the Goddess of the Hearth

She is very soft-spoken and quiet

And in your myths, usually plays no part

She was one of the original 12

Before Dionysus came

And of all to enter Olympus,

His is the last name

When he wanted to become

One of the 12

Hestia, to prevent arguing

Graciously stepped down

Dionysus is the God of the Vine

He has a dual personality

On side of him is joy and ecstasy

The other rage and brutality

These are the 12 Olympians

None omnipotent or omniscient

And I suppose that for the time being

They have proved sufficient

I have been their home for thousands of years

Just observing, being silent and large

And after all this time, I have just one question:

Why on earth are they in charge?

A Worry Up For Trade

I was actually texting my friend and he (inadvertently) gave me the idea for this poem. I love when I get inspired by the weirdest things. Hope you like it 🙂

I’ve got a worry up for trade

Going once, going twice

Who will trade me for my worry

Just one worry for another, no money, no price

I promise my worry isn’t that bad

It’s not depressing,

Not stressful

Not terribly sad

I’ve got a worry up for trade

Someone, anybody, anyone at all?

It’s a really good deal

My worry is really very small

I’d just like to trade my worry

Because I’ve had it for a while

And finally getting rid of it

Would give me a reason to smile

So I’ve got a worry up for trade

Going once, going twice

Who will trade me for my worry

Just one worry for another, no money, no price

My Dreams

My Dreams live up in the clouds

And every day, they wave and beckon

So I go up to them

And stick my head in the clouds

But after that, I never know what to do

So I asked my mother,

“What do I do with my Dreams?”

She said,

“Follow them.”

So every day, I followed my Dreams around

And around

And around

Until I got so dizzy, I fell down

So then I asked my father,

“What do I do with my Dreams?”

He said,

“Chase them.”

So every day, I chased my Dreams

And they ran from me,

Laughing and shrieking and smiling

Until I ran out of breath,

Frustrated, exhausted and irritable

So I gave up on my Dreams

I took my head out of the clouds

And left them there

But one day,

I asked my grandfather,

“What do I do with my Dreams?”

And he said,

“What Dreams? I didn’t think you had any.”

This made me rather cross

I told him I had Dreams

But I had left them in the clouds

“What do I do with my dreams?”

And he said

“Grab hold of them and never let them go.”

So I stuck my head in the clouds

And saw my Dreams, now slightly faded

And I grabbed hold

Pulled them back down to reality

And never let them go