Watermelon Pickle!!

I wrote a short poem for English class a few days ago...:P I would love to hear negative and postive criticism, but mostly negative:evilgrin: I wrote it after our teacher let us sample her homemade watermelon pickle!!:ayecapn:

Reflections on a Gift of Watermelon Pickle


Thanks a bunch!
Now I have a hole in my throat!

Acids chew and tear away my flesh,
Wafted smells burn at my nasal hair.

The suprising taste that left me without a tongue.
The agony, the pain... but from and English teacher?

Heartburn, sour stomach, acid reflux.
Nothing worse than this smell of Christmas.

Suck in the aroma, but wait until you devour it.
Before you know it, you'll have a hole in your throat!

:evilgrin: *nod nod*

:lol: :lol: :lol:

My day is brighter for reading that, that's great.=D

:lol: nice poem :lol: =P

Thanks guys!!:cheese: You guys made my day better too!:D Well, I was a nitch mmelancholy this morning...:P

The way it starts kinda reminds me of Rafiki's chant. :p

:lol: Thanks Kovu!:cheese:

Just wondering, what the hell is a watermelon pickle?:p

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Originally posted by pntbll248
Just wondering, what the hell is a watermelon pickle?:p

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http://www.recipesource.com/fgv/pickles/02/rec0231.html

:P

:lol:

Great poem...I like Water melons......:D

:lol::lol:
Grreat work!

Quote:

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Originally posted by nafklt
I wrote a short poem for English class a few days ago...:P I would love to hear negative and postive criticism, but mostly negative:evilgrin: I wrote it after our teacher let us sample her homemade watermelon pickle!!:ayecapn:

[i]Reflections on a Gift of Watermelon Pickle

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Hey! =D We are reading some of that book for our Communication Arts class...anyways,

:lol: Thats great, it made my day....:evilgrin:

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Originally posted by Aquarain
Hey! =D We are reading some of that book for our Communication Arts class...anyways,

:lol: Thats great, it made my day....:evilgrin:

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Wha??:confused: What book?:confused:

I wrote this poem myself!:ayecapn: The teacher told us that the title had to be "The Reflections on a Gift of Watermelon Pickle"...;)

:lol: great poem

Hehe, thanks Wolfman Jack!! :cheese:

Watermelons are eval! :claw:

:lol:

Great poem ;)

thats even better thank my friends "oed to a Potato" ^^ :D:D nice one :D:D

:lol: Thanks guys!:cheese: Here's my revised version I handed in today!;)

Reflections on a Gift of Watermelon Pickle

By Robert Zhu


Thanks a bunch!
Now I have a hole in my throat.

Acids feast upon my piquant flesh,
Fluttering fragrances char my nasal hair.

The peculiar taste that left me lacking a tongue.
The agony, the pain, but from an English teacher?

Heartburn, sour stomach, acid reflux.
Nothing worse than this essence of Maraschino cherry.

Smell this aroma, but wait until you chow down.
Before you know it, you?ll have a hole in your throat!


:P

What did the teacher say after you handed in your poem? :lol:

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Originally posted by Suki
What did the teacher say after you handed in your poem? :lol:

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Nothin'!;):cheese:

D'accord, I wrote a short story a while ago and I won't nothin' more...:bleen:

Except for:

Reminiscences(encesences)

By Robert Zhu

Do you know those scented candles they sell on the store shelves in the home fragrances aisle? Have you ever gone to the store just to sneak a smell? Come on, you know you do. Do they remind you of something, sometime, somewhere? They sure did for me. This is my story?
There was a cool breeze from the a/c vents on the ceiling of Wal-Mart as I trudged slowly in with the automatic doors sliding closed behind me. As usual I followed my mom in, for my dad was still at work. My mom, as all moms were like, they never visited the ?electronics? department. I wanted to go but I couldn?t, not alone. I was only sixteen at the time (wow, twenty-nine years ago), afraid to venture on into the wilderness of trafficking people in the busy retailer. I had always gone to the ?electronics? department with my dad, but today he wasn?t here. I followed and followed my mom, like a great cane rat pup. Parents, they tread fast, don?t they? First, they?re in the ?frozen foods? departments, then the ?floral? section, before you realise it, your riding in the car going back home! It was just then when my mom and I entered the aromatic aisle of the ?home odour removal? department. My mom was looking for that new Febreeze aerosol while I was investigating the carcass of a fallen sandwich as it was stormed by swarm of ants to the bones. As I was watching the insectival invasion, I notice an awkward aroma lurking from the third shelf; it was two aerosol cans to the left, just within my grasp, a two-inch high, one-and-a-half in diameter glass suction cup of orange wax. I came near to the suspected object, it was easily handled with two palms, it was a little over a half pound, I estimated. It smelled like fresh persimmons in a weaved basket that just arrived in a cargo ship from overseas.
I quickly grabbed another.
[Sniff]
?Ahh?choo!?
Oh yes, I forgot to mention, I?m allergic to lavender.
I quickly sniffed all the multicoloured wax-filled suction cups on the shelf. The memories. I remember the toffee flavoured wax-filled suction cup had an aroma of a cross between Lego and Play-Doh, cherry as a restaurant in downtown Albany, lavender as lavender, vanilla as? I can?t really tell anymore with the runny nose and the sneezes and the replies to the ?bless yous? from the lavender.
Shortly after, my mom came back from checking the price of the aerosol from the self-serve barcode scanner, her without knowing, we left for home.
?Twas on that day, the day, I will remember for the rest of my life.
I hope.

EDIT: Okay... it doesn't allow me to indent or space or anything. *goes crazy*:eek:

Wow, cool, that is a great poem and I love that story. It's really well written. Great job! :D :cheese:

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Originally posted by Azerane
Wow, cool, that is a great poem and I love that story. It's really well written. Great job! :D :cheese:

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w00t! Thanks!:cheese:

im so lazy :zzz: i didn't even read the story, anyway! funny poem, :lol:

:lol: Oh well, here's another one...:P

Jambo

The Savannah isn?t just a sea of grass.
The acacias, baobabs, and animals too!
The roar of a lion, the snort of a warthog;
Who can not adore such a beautiful place?
I love it! I love it! And yet, still I despise it.
The tsetse, the fruit flies, the sleeping sickness!
The poachers, the hunters, oh what such a horrid place!
But what are the risks? It doesn?t matter!
Pack up your bags! ?Cause we?re going to Nairobi!

Yay! I wrote another story about an assignment which you have to read a book with an adult...:P

Adultus Readus


And so, it all started in my 10th grade English class where my teacher gave as a humongous load of homework and commanded us to complete it by a randomly chosen Monday before Victoria Day of 2005. One piece of our humongous load of homework was an Adult reading assignment. I dropped my jaws and gasped as my grade 10 English teacher furiously tried to describe to us that we must find an adult and read an ENGLISH book together. Searching the mental white pages of my relatives, I desperately tried to think of an adult that I knew that was actually fluent in ENGLISH. My mind, in a frozen state of the infamous ?Blue Screen of Death? had to be rebooted and all my memories, including the assignment disappeared into thin air?

Three weeks later? (On a Tuesday)

Laughing joyfully, as I entered the dark caverns of my grade 10 English torture chamber, I was knocked senseless by a jolt of words being etched onto the homework board:

HOMEWORK:
?
English 10- Adult Reading Thing ?Due next Monday
?

Screaming my head off, I peed my pants and ran out the door.

Next day?

After seeing a psychiatrist about hearing maniacal laughter in the middle of the night, I heroically trudged to school. Upon entering les ports grandes de l?ecole, I was dubbed the official school sissy.

Later?

?What? A fiction novel? The only fictional title I?ve ever read was the Da Vinci Code, and I only read that because it talked about Da Vinci!?

Later?

Feeling hopeless and realising that I will never find an English speaking adult, I carefully raised my hand and described to my grade 10 English teacher that there is no hope and I would probably die first than find an English speaking adult to read with.

Not knowing what?s plotting in her mind, she told me to give her my e-mail address and she?ll find an adult for me to read with.

Friday afternoon?

After many hours of selective picking, I chose a book called ?Sherlock Holmes And the Hound of the Baskervilles? because it sounded like some adventure book with people being slowly gnawed to death by colossal killer beavers.

Saturday?

Not knowing what may lie in my GoogleMail account, I logged on and found 22 new messages?

First message:
Hello, I have deposited the sum of twenty-million dollars into your Swiss bank account?

Yours truly,
Mbongo Mbeke

Give me a break! This is SPAM!

Scrolling down to the last message, it read?

Mr. G to me - Hi! Just a note to see how you are doing with this project. Why did you choose this story? Have you started reading? Any journal questions or observations that you've made so far? Mr. G.

Seeing this was my grade 10 English teacher?s father and not some spammer, I quickly replied.

After many days and several email conversations, I finally finished the book. And actually, it wasn?t very hard after the second chapter to realise that ?Sherlock Holmes And the Hound of the Baskervilles? was not about an adventure where people were being slowly gnawed to death by colossal killer beavers...

It's not very good, but at least I tried...:evilgrin: