Wednesday, May 27, 2015

Poetry, It's Also All About The Chickens

We're at the end of the year and desk cleaning out at school has begun in earnest. Eion, happy to be done with school, perhaps the happiest, has a decidedly slash and burn attitude, eagerly dumping reams of paper in the recycling.

But he wanted me to keep the poems he wrote. When I looked through them, there clearly was a theme.

Chicken Food
I get a hamburger to throw down
The hamburger flies down the deck
James fights everyone else here
They are gulping it down
You must fight for it
Going away
Very small
Almost
Gone

And then there's...

I Am A Chicken
I am a chicken
White as a cloud
I eat almost anything
I am fast
I can lay eggs
I can be loud
I am a chicken

And one more....

If hope could be a color
it would be blue
as blue as the heavens

If hope could be a taste
it would taste just like chocolate

If hope could be a smell
it would be the beach

If hope could be a sound
it would be screams of joy

If hope could be a feeling
it would be happiness
[Editors note: I thought hope was a feeling. I am confused.]

If hope could be an animal
it would be a chicken


Clearly, one day when he is famous, this will be known as the poultry period.

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