A Poem

While studying Edgar Allan Poe's "The Raven" in my Advanced Reading class in 8th grade, me and Nick Allen (who I sat next to) got the idea to do our own play on the poem. We spent a good part of the next month working on this during that class. The result is a piece of literature I am very proud to have co-authored, and have showed to many people over the years. Certainly it doesn't sound like 8th graders wrote it! We mainly wrote it for inclusion in Southern Middle School's annual anthology publication, "The Eagle's Quill" which was run by our Advanced Reading teacher. It was published, but unfortunately she (the teacher/editor of the Quill) felt compelled to edit everything that year (I didn't notice the same when I had something published in 6th grade), including the poetry (you just don't do that!). Needless to say, by time it was published it was utterly ruined. Nothing but the best for my website though, here's the original version (of which I still have the handwritten manuscript :o).

The Rapper (In honor of The Raven, and in fun of rap)

Once upon a 3:00 fog, I pondered playing with my pogs
Over such a high and blasting volume of my stereo system.
While I nodded nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping
As of someone strangely rapping, rapping on my stereo system.
"Tis some rapper," I muttered, "rapping on my stereo system."
Only this and maybe Tupac Shakur.

Ah, distinctly I remember it was the 32nd of November.
Now I heard something rapping, but this time it was at my chamber door.
"Surely," said I. "Surely that is Ice Cube at my chamber door.
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore.
Let my ears be plugged a moment and this mystery explore."
Tis a cop killer and nothing more.

Open here I flung the door, when suddenly popped Tupac Shakur.
In here stopped a bald headed rapper with golden chains galore.
Not the least greeting made he, not a minute stopped or stayed he,
Looking like the lord of Haiti, he sat down on my floor.
"Tell me what your purpose is here so I can lock up."
Quoth the rapper, "Wuzup!"

Then methought, the air grew denser, as I wondered why Tupac's music isn't censored
Because it makes him such a nasty offenser, and now he's sitting on my floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee, by these angels he hath sent thee."
Then he started that annoying rapping again and I asked him to shut up.
But he just kept on rapping, and I thought I'd throw up.
Quoth the rapper, "Wuzup!"

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!- prophet still if musician or devil,
I wish you'd stop that incessant rapping, before I have to jack you up."
Then he said, "Punk, don't tell me to stop singing, 'cause I ain't gonna shut up."
"On this home by horror haunted, tell me truly, stupid punk.
Is there- Is there relief from pain- tell me- tell me, will you	shut up?"
Quoth the rapper, "Wuzup!"

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!- prophet still if musician or devil,
Please, please I beg in mercy, will you just shut up.
Tell this soul with anger laden, please shut up, my ears are ringing,
Before my fists start flinging, I suggest you shut up!
Now, what say you rapper, are you going to shut up?"
Quoth the rapper, "Wuzup!"

"Be that word our sign of parting, musician or fiend!" I shrieked upstarting.
"Get thee back into the tempest and the night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no golden chain as a token of that rap thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!- take your stupid rapping and pack up!
Take thy drums from out my ears, for they are about to give up."
Quoth the rapper, "I feel I must be departing, for it's late and you must lock up."

Tupac left the lonely man, and left a chain of gold in his hand.
He walked down the hall, didn't stop to stand, so he could leave in his van,
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon that is dreaming.
As he started down the stairs, he tripped, and like Tarzan, flied,
And when he hit the cement bottom, the rapper instantly died.
Maybe- it was suicide!

I wrote the following poem during an English test on poetry in 10th grade. We were supposed to demonstrate as many poetic elements as we could. Maybe I was in a bad or silly mood, or just didn't like the test. But it seems I made an attempt to freak the teacher out, it is kinduva freaky poem. Just don't try and draw any conclusions from it, please :o). Thank you.

Rubber Room

I killed the ceiling.

I hid from it, but it did nothing.

I killed a wall.

I begged and pleaded, but the stubborn wall refused to fall.

I tried to kill the door, but it will be here for ever more.

I killed the floor, and tried to climb.

Did you notice, this poem rhymes?

I killed another wall, it fell on my head.

Now I am dead, the Rubber Room

killed me, then went BOOM!

--the end--

Like I said, I did it on purpose. I used alliteration, onamotapoeia, rhyme, personification, and assonance in the poem. It was written in free verse.

Last modified October 31, 2000

This page hosted by

Get your own Free Home Page