Comments on "Poetry Time, Part Four"

"The New Student" was probably one of the first unassigned poems I ever wrote. Well, at least it's the first one of which I have record present. I was in eighth grade at the time--the quality of my poetry writing skills don't seem to have grown any sense then; and I was having an okay time at school, as much as junior high students can have at school. Then, this punk kid gets transferred to our school. He was the stereotypical bully: big, dumb, and full of profanity.

Looking back, I cannot even tell you this kid's name. I'm only dimly aware that he did not end up staying at the school. With my present understanding of the middle school student mindset, I can safely assume this kid--who probably got transferred more than his fair share of times--came from a home that was either too lenient or mostly uncaring. It would not be surprising to find out that he had a very dysfunctional family background, maybe even adolescent drug use.

I wrote this short verse with the intent to get my feelings (which I believe are collectively referred to as "teen angst") out on paper, something I found myself doing increasingly more often as I matured. In fact, most of the times that I wrote to "get my feelings out on paper" end up erased, scribbled out, thrown away, or (as I later began typing more than actually writing) deleted entirely.

Poetry Time, Part Four

The New Student

From a large city he came
To a rural town. (A shame
He had to enter my place
Of rest and grace.)
Now my world is upside-down
With his words so profound,
And his essence of evil ways.
Why did he have to come to this place?
In his home he was more adapt;
Here he just carries wrath.

On My Chicken Spaghetti Recipe

I am a huge fan of food. Please don't take that to mean I am physically a huge fan of food insomuch as I eat a lot of food and, thus, huge. (Based on my height-weight ratio, however, I should probably be a few inches taller.) I am also not a motorized, multi-appendaged cylinder which induces airflow.

I have a growing collection of recipes at home. Some are neatly assembled into a 3-ring binder (although not necessarily categorized in any certain order.) Others are alphabetically arranged in a 3" x 5" card box. Still more are hastily thrown into a shoebox. The majority of these recipes have been collected by cutting them off of the backs or sides of boxes, removing them from can labels, or ripping them from magazines and newspapers.

As such, some of the recipes have ragged edges or do not quite fit inside the card box (hence the shoebox). I have transcribed some of the recipes onto index cards. I plan to sometime do the same for all of the loose recipes. (I even write it on my semi-monthly "To-Do" lists, in the same column as about fifteen other things that I plan to do. These include transferring the rest of my records and tapes to digital format, completing a distance-learning course for bookkeeping, exercising, and building a theater.)

Unfortunately, I don't really get to cook very often. My current job gets me home somewhat late in the evening, so my wife more than happily (and more than tastily) has dinner in the works by the time I get home. This way we don't have to starve as I try to invent some new concoction that we will never taste while gulping it down hungrily. Consequently, most of the recipes in my collection lay in the box on the bookshelf, quietly sobbing and despondent about their lack of fulfillment.

However, once I get to make something, I usually make the same thing. (This is usually at my wife's request.) If there is one thing that I can make well, it is Chicken Spaghetti. It is not really my own original recipe. I ate it somewhere and got the ingredients from whomever was there to tell me about the ingredients. Anyway, it is a recipe that has stuck with me, much like the cheese sticks to the pasta.

In order to broaden the reach of such a tasty dish, I posted the recipe to my Helium account. At the time, there was not a category for "Chicken Spaghetti", so I created one. I reiterate that I was the one that initiated the category of "Chicken Spaghetti" on Helium's site. Now, if you'll look at the site ranking for recipes within this category, you will note that there are seven (as of today) articles, with mine ranking 7th--last place. I find it funny.

Anyhow, I encourage you to try the recipe. It is super tasty. It only requires chicken, angel hair pasta, processed cheese, and diced chiles & tomatoes. If you are a vegetarian, grow up and eat some meat! No, wait: only joking. In fact, we have made the dish without chicken, and it is just as tasty without it. (I call the meatless version "Pasta Mexitaliano".)

Let me know how it turns out.

Comments on "Poetry Time, Part Three"

I should be, like, the next Mother Goose or something, if I keep coming up with stuff like "Running".

Of course, I'd have to go with a different name. Maybe "Father Gander?"

No, too obvious.

"Padré Ganso?"

Too muppety.

"Goosemaster Funk?"

Poetry Time, Part Three

Running

Feet aglow with fire
Running as on air
Speedily and hastily
To hopefully somewhere.
Blurring like a hummingbird,
Yet stirring up the wind;
Running quickly onward
Perhaps to meet a friend.

Comments on "Poetry Time, Part Two"

I don't know where I got the inspiration for "Vicar of Wicker". I think it was just the fact that the two main title words rhymed. Some poetry scholars might be able to see something in it, but I don't really. I put it on my Helium account under "Poetry: Politics" just because there seemed to be a little bit of a political air to it.

Poetry Time, Part Two

Vicar of Wicker

Thou vicar of wicker,
Tyrant of twigs.
You hasten not to your
Public of pigs.

You stand and gaze mightily.
No virtue you bear.
Your people stand anxiously,
Awaiting their fair share.

Have you no decency in you at all?
Do you eagerly await your downfall?
Give it a try.
Do what you must.
But, look on within
And do what is just.

Look not at the world
From your opaque point of view;
Instead look on them
As if in their shoes.


(This poem can be found at my Helium account.)