This is probably one of my least polished poems...I think that the more bizarre the experience, the harder it is to fit adequately to words. I don't even know if this was a valiant attempt. It was more of a geyser of words & thoughts carelessly ordered on paper. As a side note, the silly site won't let me format it the way I have it typed on my computer so it doesn't look as cool as I had intended. Well, without futher ado, here it is: a poem based on actual events that occured last week at a Christian concert in Portland.
An Ode on Haughty Men
by Joann Renee
There you stand.
Rugged good looks
making your smile
lofty & disturbing.
You pick your target.
Tall, athletic, blonde
with an infectious laugh
and quick temper.
A brilliant choice.
She seems to be accompanied
by two other females.
One with wavy auburn hair
and that same easy smile.
well, she’s wearing a sweatshirt
with owls on it. Bizarre.
You work your way into their trio,
Focusing 85% of your charm
on the blonde beauty
and 15% on the wavy-haired temptress.
You are aware that owl-girl
is impertinently staring at you,
demanding a glance, if not
But you stand firm!
her owls do not deserve
the slightest attention.
Owl-girl is amused,
though her eyes brim
The male specimen so clearly flirting with her
friend has made several colossal mistakes
if he wishes her to be at all awed by him:
He’s patted her shoulder.
After asking for her myspace,
he then casually mentions
In under 5 minutes he’s managed
to insinuate his school is better than hers
at least a half a dozen times.
This arrogant 20-something is trying
to impress her by completely ignoring
one of her closest friends.
Seriously? Did you just hug me?
Mr. Haughty struts away:
Miss Blonde Beauty clenches her fists
and growls most ferociously.
Wavy Temptress smiles sweetly
and shrugs her shoulders.
Owl-girl doubles over in laughter,
pointing out that of the two topics
he brought up (besides insulting
their alma mater): Mutemath
and the Emerging Church,
she alone of the three had any interest.
It was a match made in heaven—
If only she was 3 inches taller,
20 pounds lighter, fuller hair,
and had opted for her black sweater
instead of the wise owls who hold
the secret to life’s deepest mysteries—
like how many licks it takes to reach
the desired tootsie in the center of the pop
and why bleachers always attract