Friday, May 26, 2006

A Day in the Life of Ann Tipsy

Call me Ann Tipsy
I’m a bit of a clumsy
Most of my life I spend
Trying hard to fix and mend
All the things I’ve tripped over;
Pick up banana peels I’ve slipped over.

I think it’s mostly because
I live life without a pause
Maybe I’m in too much of a hurry
That I leave everything around me in a flurry

I try to fill my pen
I spill the ink and then
Grape juice falls on my skirt
I have three missing buttons on my shirt
I trip over the garden hose
Can’t find my basketball clothes
Forget to brush my tangled hair
Lost my sneakers’ other pair
Raise my hand for all the wrong questions
Forgot my homework for all my lessons
Accidentally walk into the boys’ lockers
Take my stitching kit to soccer
Messed up the party at my own house
All because I invited circus clowns
Wore a yellow shirt on purple day
Didn’t notice my tulips decayed
Told my friends my cat was dead
In truth I had an iguana for a pet
Used face wash to clean my bike
My boyfriend told me to take a hike.

You must be thinking, “What a twit!”
I wish I was careful, just a little bit
But what can I do, this is just me
I’m the one and only Ann Tipsy
I just pray I don’t falter
And leave my groom at the altar.

4 comments:

Psychic said...

oooooooh!wow!
this is definetly my favourite.....dont worry i dont thnk u'll leave NEM at the altar!!!
and u dont seem at all like Ann tipsy.

Imperfect said...

@psychic
i don't necessarily write abt myself in my poems...
thanks for the compliment and the assurance..lol

Anonymous said...

lol, just saying, theses older poems are like, ur just trying to rhyme the next sentence so u write some crap..... the newer ones are wayyy over my head. The ones in the middle rok, seriously. No wonder u get so pissed when u lose marks in English.....wayyy more than other subjects

Anonymous said...

lol, just saying, theses older poems are like, ur just trying to rhyme the next sentence so u write some crap..... the newer ones are wayyy over my head. The ones in the middle rok, seriously. No wonder u get so pissed when u lose marks in English.....wayyy more than other subjects

~L. Rkn

Poetry

when language like bubbling streams flow




when words are laid down to fit like lovers' hands




when you feel the essence of the poet from within




when swirling thoughts are caught in the net of rhythm



when images reel as you read




when pen and paper create a symphony




then, it is poetry
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