Thursday, December 18, 2008

Waxing Poetic

Because I didn't really know what else to think about on my way to work today, I was challenging myself to remember the words to a poem I wrote for a project in high school about my infatuation with Rockapella.

So, in keeping with the holiday spirit, since you have all been good little boys and girls, I present to you my brilliant poem, along with another one I wrote in college about staphylococcus aureus.

Flaunt the Fabulous Four

I was assigned to create a poemic lyr,
and I guess it would behoove me to do it,
for it's due Wednesday morning, no later, I fear.
So I'm forcing myself to hop to it.

Today's lyric subject of vast contemplation
is one I deliriously adore.
It's about my dangerously lethal infatuation
with a group we'll call the Fabulous Four.

Now there's one tiny problem, a miniature disaster
that interferes with my position as fan.
See- while the delicately fine art of singing they've mastered,
they're only really famous in Japan.

So to all you stricken carriers of the Fabulous Four plague,
Don't hide your contagious disease.
Volunteer information and don't you be vague,
your admiration must never ever cease.

Wear their delirium like badges of honor-
stand tall, walk proud with iron jaw.
Make others think versus you they're a goner.
Be uplifted by their spiritual bra.

And if any pathetic naysayers just happen to poopoo
your instrumentless idolization insanity,
don't stoop to their crustacean level of doodoo,
use it as kindle for your fire of vanity.

Simply smile and wax poetic on the subject of your heroes
(Try to rub it in like salt to a scrape).
And if that doesn't work then step squarely on their toes
and run away cackling maniacally at your clever escape.

You know that these guys pummel major wooly mammoth butt.
So don't be a bitter old fella.
Let out your emotions, don't you dare keep them shut
and yell mercifully out, "Do It, ROCKAPELLA!"

------------------------------------------------------------

Staph Attack


Gather ‘round and hear this, ye children so fair
For a tale so much older than time.
Listen closely to me , for your health, if you dare-
I’ll try my best to keep tempo and rhyme.

There lives deep inside your inner nasal wall
An evil Staphylococcus aureus.
And, trust me, there’s nothing like it at all
In any dictionary or thesaurus.

It starts out innocently as a child,
Snuggled contentedly inside your schnoz.
But it soon grows restless, mean and wild,
Struggling to escape its resident laws.

It patiently awaits the perfect chance,
A ride that will bring it down south.
A lone finger enters- oh, see the Staph dance!
As it is carried straight into the mouth!

Staph loves the moist, such a Heavenly clime,
He is giddy and brimming with glee.
The finger brings more and more every time,
Our Staph is in good company.

Now, children don’t fear, what I tell you is true
For it happens both near and afar.
What comes next is quite graphic, so listen- please do!
Or you can go wait in the car.

They make their way down to the stomach and such,
Stopping several times on the way.
The lungs, liver, spleen- Oh, this is too much!
But the Staph, how they love to play!

At every pit stop, they leave something behind-
A pathogenic trail of crumbs.
An abscess filled with pus and such kind,
This can’t be cured with no Tums!

They infect every corner, every small nook and cranny,
Causing unpleasantnesses like endocarditis.
You won’t have the strength to get off of your fanny
Once you’re infected with septic arthritis.

But it can do lots more harm, if you don’t take some care-
You can end up with pneumonia or worse.
Just try to fight it, if you bother to dare,
Make every effort to get rid of this curse!

It’s got leukocidin and toxins, artillery galore
To destroy your body’s defense.
Toxic Shock Syndrome will even the score,
So wasting your time? It just doesn’t make sense.

Use all the strength your feeble body can muster,
The Staph just won’t leave you alone.
You simply cannot get rid of that mean grape-like cluster,
But only see every day how it’s grown.

You can use special soap, the antistaphylococcal kind,
And paint yourself white with the cream.
Even with antibiotics, the Staph never mind,
Though with time, they’re not bad as they seemed.

So, now heed my lesson, you know where Staph grows,
Don’t cause me to repeat it.
You know it’s not polite to pick at your nose,
And certainly, don’t ever eat it!

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