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Wherever there's lots of food, That's where he'll be found. Connect Over a Poem: The speaker in this poem blames his cat for eating his homework. I'm sure if he keeps at it He'd win the talent shows. In this funny poem, the poet expands on his cat’s love of eating (and even uses that to get out of doing homework).
We're like parrots repeating stuff, like our brains have turned to fluff.
The moths followed the little square Like he was a flame The little square wrote a book about his despair And the moths made a proclaim The little square didn't like us So he told the moths to find us, "the mess"He told them to do it without fuss'Cause without us his garden would be flawless The moths came out to his garden They found me and my kind And pulled us out with a gun Treating us like we aren't apart of mankind We were put on trial by them And thrown into fire We were shoved into a room by 'em And gassed because it was "prior"Occasionally the moths were bored So they played hangman with us This was a game that they adored All we could do was stare at the hanging carcass They were our friends and family They were the only medals we had left We were too broken to be angry So we ignored the theft When the moths got rid of us They went for the most damaged weeds That often made us anxious Because of it some did misdeeds Some couldn't deal with the pain and fear So those weeds jumped to the birds On the floor they left a smear The smears thought jumping would send them homewards Though we saw death so many times a day We were still able to eat and treat people with hate It was because from our god we have gone astray Maybe because we were all under weight In our stomachs prowled lions Our hunger was so severe If we found stray scraps we would go for the ****If you went for the food you were a volunteer One time we ran out of food So we complained even more The moths got tired of our complaining mood So we ran to a new camp door We were often moved We went from camp to camp Of course we all disapproved On the house that was based by our stamp On each of our wrist Was and inky black stamp It was on the moths checklist It was our name in each concentration camp When we were saved from hell We were all broken weeds We couldn't even sleep well But the ones that saved us answered our needs The ones that saved us helped end the war And some were normal citizens Everyday we are grateful for their loving core Even if we had great differences Though the Holocaust made us different And the memories haunt us It was kind of a movement Because now people won't walk into war without a fuss •helping the kids with homework•no one told you,was part of the job description paycheck earner a-ok,gruff but tender lover,knowing her special places,building a tree swing, a tree house safe and satisfactory,one the neighbors envytaking them to the hospital forbroken arms and chemotherapy,part two of the non-routine but a very possible foreseeable,going to school to give that principal a lookthat will make him think twice before suspending one of his for defending himself you remember your daddy doing the same for you,forgetting to repeat the tar and hiding that came laterthe tucking in, the pretense ouch when your end of dayscratchy beard ruffling the skin of babies,carrying tissues in a toolbox,never heard of, nevertheless done,tho not a memory defining the future inclusive,definitely a learning ability, a likeability doing homework, nuh uh,no way jose, don’t dare let themknow how you never got a gold star,always sat in the back row, outta sight,all day dreaming, chemistry rhymes with mystery,and poetry is rhymes needing a big vocabulary which means lots of words for a man who don’t talk much ain’t exactly his strong suitsure, heard of Shakespeare but never met him,know where the on/off computer button hides,the rest is up to them;got no email address, but taught them sir and ma’am,how to address humans with respect,i’ll promise them anything but not doing any homework,unless it the kind that that makes “ Homework is inspiration,written in secretly,between the lines of due dates,and boredom.
I'm much too anxious to be my old, creative self for English class.
Who would have guessed that I look forward to Algebra II,where things are somehow simple--where black and white puzzles can be actually be solved.
(I'm sure we all know why.) He eats just about everything, So that's why, with a sigh...
Have you ever made up an excuse to get out of doing homework (or something else)? Fun Activity: Write a four-line stanza about your pet using this template from the first stanza of this poem.
Bruce Lansky has been crowned the "King of Giggle Poetry" by his elementary school admirers.
As editor of the successful poetry anthologies, A Bad Case of the Giggles, Kids Pick the Funniest Poems, No More Homework! , If Kids Ruled the School, Miles of Smiles, Mary Had A Little Jam, Rolling in the Aisles, Peter, Peter, Pizza Eater, and Tinkle, Tinkle, Little Tot, he learned what makes children laugh.
I can't keep up in French, and don't ask if I can understand: I can't.
AP World History might put me to sleep in a coffin with all this stress.