I can remember excelling in English since way back in grade school. My grandmother owned a typewriter and at that young age it appeared more like a toy to me. She, of course, knew of itʼs value and wished for me to learn it as well. This typewriter was the beginning of my love for writing. At that time, I lacked knowledge of poetry but loved to make up rhymes. I even used rhyming to help me remember school tasks and important events. I was the girl changing the songs we jump roped to on the playground. No, Cinderella was not dressed in yella and she didnʼt go to the ball to kiss a fella. But she did wear a gown of white and it fit just right!

My 5th grade class was participating with our local newspaper to run an advertising contest. Each student was assigned a local business and given a short description of it. From there, we were suppose to draw a picture and add a saying to advertise the business. There were to be 3 winners chosen, each receiving a specified savings bond and the privilege of seeing their ad in the local newspaper.

I was sadly disappointed to discover my business was the local shoe shop, Snyderʼs Shoes. Thinking it was going to be difficult, I took my poster board and business description home and started brain storming. The only conclusion from thinking about it that I can distinctly remember is that it was a store that everyone could shop at; all ages, sizes, and gender needed shoes right?

So I started by drawing the outside of the business with happy customers walking in and out of the 2 glass doors. It was a terrible rendition of the actual building and my customers might have been happy, but as stick people they looked terribly starved. After many pages of notebook paper scribbled on, crumpled up and thrown away, I managed to come up with this saying:

“Whether your feet are big, small, skinny or wide,

Snyderʼs Shoes has the shoes to fit your stride.”

Such a small, simple saying I thought and was sure I had no chance of winning. Well, my crude stick people paired with this simple rhyme won me 2nd place, worth a $50 savings bond and my ad in the paper. Excited to win but pissed to find that a savings bond meant I couldnʼt spend my money right away. My teacher at the time suggested I look in the school library for poetry books. I did and the rest is Proser Lish History!

This is a repost... It was my first post here, but it's also the first poem I've ever written... And my favorite..

I can't relate to you,

    you can't relate to me.

You are a neanderthal

    crawling on your knee

I'm a Goddess. You?

    An insignificant pig.

Why I thought we could be?

    How stupid, it isn't trig.

Stay within thine own species.

    How hard to follow?

It's my own fault that

    I now feel so hollow.

I can't be angry with you

    for being a bug.

In comparison to me.

    I'm sorry, need a hug?

Well too bad.

    I hug you, I squish you.

Don't blame me.

    I can't change what is true.

I think I'll consider this

    officially over.

Unless I want to

    continue dating Rover.

I can't imagine now

    what had me possessed.

I was distracted.

    I must have been stressed.

As you can tell,

    I'm horrible at poetry.

But your lack of intellect..

    it just came over me.

I'd prefer to write

    an epic novel.

Become famous

    then make you grovel.

Yet merely due to your

    insufferable idiocy.

Yeah, I went there.

    I got a little risky.

I apologize to anyone

    who reads this drivel.

Consider it, regarding him?

    My only scribble.

And then I implore you

    young maid and mister.

Even if you have to

    kiss your own sister.

Do not show your heart

    to those below you.

There is no possibility

    that they might know you.

Keep looking

    til the day you die.

For that ideal girl

    that perfect guy.

Trust me.

    Being all alone?

Sure beats the hell out of

    trying to reason with a stone.

Darrian Lynx

Under a gun metal grey sky

Another bullet shoots by

My friend lays next to me dead

He took his own gun to his head

The stench of death is around me

Men I knew now a rotting sea

Flies and the smell of burning pork

I am alone listening to garbled radio talk

If hell was on earth it is here in the mud

Mixed with pompous pride and innocent blood

I want to go home for I am now the last

I cannot protect this hole from one more bomb blast

But I am a soldier to run would be treason

Even though I am fighting a war with no good reason

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I wrote this when I was 9 for my junior school English teacher Mr Abbott, he asked us to write an account of being in the trenches.  My father served in the Korean war, he hated flies and the smell of cooked pork, being curious I asked why and he told me.

So I put myself in his mind set and wrote this.  My dad told me off and said it was to be thrown away, Mr Abbott read it to the class and I got an A+...I loved the subjects he asked us to write about and I think it was due to him that I began writing so early.

© M.Withers/M.Strudwick . All rights reserved.

Both the name The EriduSerpent/EriduSerpent

and any written material is owned solely by the above named.

Permission granted for all written material to be shared but not for profit.

Printing or publishing is prohibited without seeking permission first from said owner.

My first attempt at poetry, written a few years back. My friend was going through some rough times, and one day in class I just started writing

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Dear child, please hear me

For I have been told

You slice up your skin

Use a blade of gold

It brings down tears

That flow like rain

And brings up blood

That only brings pain

School is a battleground

Each day, a strife

At night you dream of ending it

Using your father's knife

So here I sit by your bed

Begging, "Please don't cry."

"Tears of woe won't help you get by."