A poet. A poet? Perhaps not.

I have dozens of really terrible poems that I have composed over the years. Nothing too recent though. Some examples worthy of note are two of my sonnets. I wrote a sonnet about papayas. I also wrote one that involved a cuvette. I think the worst poem ever was an ode to a font that I liked (not a sonnet, if you wondered). I wrote it first in the font (which also happened to look incomprehensible with heiroglyphic characters), then "translated" it into ... Times New Roman, perhaps? The font was called "King Tut." Enjoy.

TRANSLATION:

This is King Tut.
I am illiterate.
I do not know how to spell
mischeif, nor retreive.
Or marraige.
You must not comprehend
what this says.
If you can, you have deTUTed it.
You must die.

Hmm..written in 2000. I still manage to write odes for people (usually on birthday cards). I wrote an Ode to Robitussin once. Maybe, someday, if you win a place in my heart, I'll write an ode to you.

An extremely short sketch on the nature of things.

The nature of things is dependent on many factors. These factors are, of course, other things. Those other things depend on yet more things. Surely, somewhere down the chain, one of the dependent factors is the original thing or thought to which the original statement is ascribed, and when such an idea is realized it makes the nature of things somewhat easier to grasp..

Thoughts on Birthdays

Birthdays are birthdays. You can celebrate the anniversary of your day of birth, but that is different from celebrating turning 19, or 45, or whatever. Technically, on my 23rd birthday, it will be the first day of my 24th year, so I should really be celebrating the day before the birthday --the day I am finishing my 23rd year. That is more cause to celebrate turning 23, is it not?