Hamlet Mad Libs!!!
Above is a photo of Mel Gibson, playing Hamlet, talking to a skull. Keep your jokes to yourself. Now onto business.
You guys have done an amazing job this week! The in-class discussion has been fantastic and the blog responses have been smart, insightful and fun to read. So, I thought we'd have a little fun and get creative.
Read the soliloquy from Act I.ii. Your job is to write a parody of the soliloquy. You will use the format of the original but come up with your own topic. It could be about your math class, going to the doctor's office, practice after school, a bad date. You're free to choose, as long as it is school appropriate. Post your soliloquy as a comment by 10pm on Sunday night.
For guidance, read the "Senioritis Of The Modern Hamlet" handout that I gave you in class.
Go forth and be brilliant!!!
HAMLET
O, that this too too solid flesh would melt
Thaw and resolve itself into a dew!
Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd
His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! God!
How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable,
Seem to me all the uses of this world!
Fie on't! ah fie! 'tis an unweeded garden,
That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature
Possess it merely. That it should come to this!
But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two:
So excellent a king; that was, to this,
Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother
That he might not beteem the winds of heaven
Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth!
Must I remember? why, she would hang on him,
As if increase of appetite had grown
By what it fed on: and yet, within a month--
Let me not think on't--Frailty, thy name is woman!--
A little month, or ere those shoes were old
With which she follow'd my poor father's body,
Like Niobe, all tears:--why she, even she--
O, God! a beast, that wants discourse of reason,
Would have mourn'd longer--married with my uncle,
My father's brother, but no more like my father
Than I to Hercules: within a month:
Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears
Had left the flushing in her galled eyes,
She married. O, most wicked speed, to post
With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!
It is not nor it cannot come to good:
But break, my heart; for I must hold my tongue.
posted by Ian Anthony Godburn at 12:59 PM
29 Comments:
TRAFFIC in the mind of Hamlet-----
Oh, that this heavy, heavy traffic would speed up, loosen up, and return back to 70 miles per hour.
Or that officer clear the wreck to the side of the road.
Oh, HONK, HONK, How dreadful, slow, nauseating, and exhausting seem to be these thousands of cars on the road!
I would run over someone's garden of weeds, to escape this boredom! That I should take side streets! But two hours, two hours to go from Encino to Calabasas!
So great a day to come to this dreary foot, riding the break... Oh to pull it off and stomp on the accelerator!
God of Traffic... must I be more patient?
Why should I wait when there is a perfectly good emergyency lane to drive in; because if one more hour - I sure hope not; TORTURE THY NAME IS TRAFFIC!
To move to Kansas City, Cheyenne, or Juneau, where there is no such thing as traffic, why I, even I -
Oh God, a driver who has a heavier foot would have been home by now - gone into a warm bed, but no more like the traffic than I to Dale Earnhardt Jr.
Within a few hours, ere yet the gas in my poor car had diminished in the space of my 16-gallon tank, I turned on the engine!
Oh, most wicked clock, to pass time so slowly in this horrific mess!!!
Traffic is not, nor it cannot move any faster.
But tap the break, for I must continue on in this traffic.
Shane Zazula
Period 4
"I hate traffic" :-)
O, that this too too blue bruise would lighten
disappear and heal itself into skin!
Or that the pain had not ever been inflicted! O Sabahmnin! Sabahmnim!
How difficult, laborious, prolonged and excruciating,
Seem to me all the training of the Art!
Damn it! God damn it! ‘tis an never ending course,
That continues to expand; glorious tournaments and competitors to
Beat
Are only part of it. That it should come to this!
But two months have past: nay, not so much, not two:
So excellent a meditation; that was, to this,
Enlighten to a necessity; so serene to my soul
That it made my worst days seem not so bad. Mind and body!
Must I remember? Why, I would practice everyday,
As if increase of appetite had grown
By what it fed on: and yet, with the OPEN approaching --
Let me not think of it yet -- fear, they name is competitions!--
A little month, my shoes were worn out from speed and target
Kicking, like Young Wong Fei-Hung, all technique:--why I, even I --
O Sabahmnim! A person, that is sound of mind,
Would have waited longer -- Entered with haste,
With Kwonjangnim’s consent, but I am no more ready
Than 5 minute brownies: with a few months to go:
Ere yet the salt of most strenuous sweat
Had left the pores of my body,
I train. O, most wicked speed, to participate
With such determination for victory!
It is not nor it cannot be effortless:
But break, my heart; for I must continue to train.
Ariyani Wray
Per. 6
Oh that this too, too expensive price tag on that handbag would disappear. Return and shape itself into a sale price or that the manager of Nordstrom were to fix his rules on shoplifting. Oh God, God, how ugly, cheap, and unflattering the seem to me all the shoes at Payless. My mind is like my jeans collection, that grows and grows, that only true shopaholics would understand. That my closet should come to this! Two months gone, nay not so much two, so excellent were the Summer collections, that was to this huge fan of Prada, so damaging to my mother's credit card. That I might not beteem the winds of Chanel Number 5, occur in my mind too often. Heaven and earth, must I remember how much I spent on that sweater? Why, I would stare at it everyday in the window of Barneys, as if an appetite for Cashmere had grown, by what it fed on, and yet within four months-Let me think not of it-torture thy name is the sun-a brief break or ere these UGG boots were old with which I browsed the racks at Fred Segal or Neiman Marcus. Like a drifter, no cares, why I, even I-Oh God, a girl who possesses more intelligence would have bought more-gone home and hidden the receipts, but no more like my mother than I like Paris Hilton. Ere yet the salt of most righteous tears, had filled my eyes, did I forego the sale at Bloomingdales. Oh most wicked speed, to unite with such dexterity in an over spenders anonymous meeting. It is not nor it cannot come to this. But break my heart, for I must not shop for a month.
Shanley Wang
Period 6
Oh, that these too, too sorry Coyotes would run,
pass, and score e'ery now and then.
Or that the Quigmeister had not fix'd
his mind 'gainst good plays! Oy, vey! Oy, vey!
How unathletic, inept, disorganized, and weak seem to me the blocking of the offensive line!
Hut, hut! Hike! T'is another unchecked assignment,
That grows to a sack; an unaffordable mistake.
Block it merely. That it should be on third down!
But three quarters dead: nay, doomed from the coin toss:
So awesome the opponent; that are, to us,
The spear to a pin, so confident
That they may not play defense
and still win. Hell and gridiron!
Must I watch? Why, we would run,
as if to advance beyond,
the scrimmage line: and yet, within two downs--
Let me not go to the games--Defeat! Thy name is CHS football!--
A season, or ere the win count was zero
For four losing years running
Like the Dubya in office--off topic--
Oh, punt! a monkey with pads,
Would not fumble e'ery kick return--'stead catch the ball,
Like Jerry Rice, but no more like Jerry
Than I to Godzilla: within a season:
Ere yet the first game of the season,
Had been played by any team,
Has our fate been sealed. O, most pathetic accuracy, to throw
With such uncaring many interceptions!
We really, really, really suck:
But, care I not; for the Colts are 7-0.
Ads of a Modern Hamlet
Oh, that this too too gratuitous stream of babble would stop
and become something worth attention
Or that that the remote had been fixed
To make its mute button work again. Oh God, God,
How redundant, monotonous, and aggravating
Seem to me all of these commercials
A pack of self convincing lies
That expand to produce; people obese, depressed and impotent
Possessing them entirely. That they need such drugs!
With three months, three months payments of 19.99, nay not so much three, not
Always three, not if you call at the immediate hour
So excellent the show I was watching that was to this,
My mind a joy and relief,
That the winds from my mother’s screeching vocals could not
Visit my ears too roughly about the mess in my room or some irrelevant matter
But then it comes again…
Must I remember the lines?
“Where does depression hurt? Everywhere! Who does depression hurt? Everyone!”
why they would echo in my mind,
and yet within a month you may return it if you are unsatisfied
Let me not think of it; evil thy name is Viagra!
Month after month, you’d think it would get old
With which follows even more hideous ads
Like Bob, all smiles: why he, even he—
O’ God! A rapist, without any moral values,
Would be less lustful
A happy man, but no more like a happy man
Than someone on Prozac
Prozac…
Within a few hours,
Ere yet the salt of all the tears
Which had gathered in the pits of one’s eyes,
would be replaced with an artificial smile
Oh, most wicked thing, to play
With such dexterity with one’s emotions
It is nor it cannot come to good.
But alas, I must sit and be patient
Norbert Period 6
Oh, that this brilliant, brilliant Shakespeare had not died, had risen, and returned back to life.
Or that he had created more works for us to enjoy.
Oh, Shakespeare, Shakespeare! How meaningful, powerful, and confusing your words appear on paper!
Student's minds escape to a world of "thee," "thou," and "thy"!
Where, until clarification, they could cry.
That they should read Shakespeare!
But centuries have gone by
So restless a mind explores his works and words,
that engulf the eager body, and confuse the thinking
Love and Shakespeare, why should we read-on?
Why, we will carry it through our lives
Quoting infamous lines, on occasion; and still thinking on it daily - let me think on it daily; brilliance, thy name is Shakespeare -
An escape into the plays, where anything is possible, yet real, why I, even I -
Oh Skakespeare, a man who possesses such brilliance
Would have written more - returned to earth, but no more like Shakespeare than I to THE GREATEST WRITER EVER. Within a few years, ere yet the beauty of his words, I read.
Oh, most sacred words, to enchant the mind!
Shakespeare is not, nor it cannot be anything less that spectacular.
But keep on reading, for each work is a masterpiece.
Tori Cusick, period 4
O, that this grand grand actress Molly Ringwald would act sing and perform to amazingness!
Or that the casting director had not cast her in "Not Another Teen Movie"
Her ability to have red hair! So Puffy! So Puffy!
How red, curly, and 80s-ish looking,
Must be the 8th Wonder Of The World!
Perm it! Oh hair! 'tis really fuzzy, like a Chia Pet,
That grows like an exotic pet; maybe coming from Ukraine
Merely don't cut it. That it should come to the hair salon!
But two months and it may need to be cut: nay, not so much hair, after the cutting.
So excellent a crop of hair: that was, to the Gods,
Fluffy red hair to a thing of beauty; so loving to thy head
That the head might double in order to have two fluffy puffs of red
Visit this head with care! Barbers and Salonists!
Must you be wearing a whig? Why, she no way in hell,
As if the hair of the Great Ringwald had fallen off
By what hair products it fed on: and yet, it looks natural--
Let me not care about it-- Hair Products, thy name is L'Oreal!--
A little snip, or ere the hair grows rank
With which she followed her good father's genes,
Like Zeus, all hair and lightning bolts:-- why shave, even she--
O, Great Ringwald! a master, that wants a starring roll opposite Vin Diesel,
Would have done anything for Vin-- shaved her goddess like hair,
My idol's head, but no more like a sewer rat
Than I to Marie Calendars: whithin a good meal:
Ere yet the chicken of the most delicious pot pie
Had left my bowels like a raging bull.
She snipped her hair: O most quickly after "The Breakfast Club"
With such a bad choice as to "Rocky V"
It is not, nor can it grow back
But grow that fluffy puff O Grand Ringwald; For I really liked you in "Pretty In Pink."
Adam Jacobs
Per 6
I still hate ponies
Oh decisions, decisions doth creep inside my mind.
Willest I chooseth wrongly my fate.
This may tamber my spirit; dash my desires.
Shall I imbue the child with knowledge of lore,
Enable youthful souls to take flight-
Wide eyed question their worldly place.
Can that be my calling, like elfin whispers in my ear?
O' but forsake that noble choice
For one less lofty.
I pray I dare not strain to hear
The sirens of texiles begging me.
To wrap my life in woven drappings
catering to seasonal whims.
In all that is by any other name fashion.
Jenny La Van
Period 6
O, that this too too trying time would collapse
Dissolve and resolve itself into days past!
Or that Tempus had not fix'd
His mind 'gainst time travel! O God! God!
How boring, sad, dull and uninteresting
Seem to me all of the passing days!
Oh boring days come to pass in this untamed jungle
That grows unkempt; things fowl and trying in life
But all of life must come down to time
But two months ago were things so much better
So excellent a day that no thing could bring me down
Sorrow was scarce and love was plentiful
That the cold winds were as welcome as ever
To visit my face. Heaven and earth!
Must I remember? How happy I was to be near him
As if I could have been in love with him
The more I was with him, and yet within a month
He was gone and I was alone again—Frailty thy name is love!
A little month, and I was back where I started
With nothing but my happy exterior to cover up all the pain
Like before, all tears and no light in sight
O, God! There is a beast that wants to bring me down
Would he have stayed hand things been better
My past but nothing like my present
Than I could imagine it to be; within a month
Before my tears could even dry
He had left me for another
Not even looking back. O, most wicked speed
With such heartlessness to another
It is no t nor will it ever be OK
But break my poor heart, for I must watch him with her in silence
- Heather Gossler pd. 4
O, that this too too present steak would end
Stop and reapear in its opposite!
Although it seems the Everlasting has fix'd
His canon 'gainst ictory! O God! God!
How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable,
Seem to me all the hours we have spent!
Fie on't! ah fie! 'tis a state of mind,
That the loses come, that rank and destroy our nature.
That it should come to this, two months in, and not so much as a single win:
So excellent a team; that was, to this,
The most couragous students we have, so loving towards one another
That we might not beteem the winds of heaven
Cisit our face too roughly. Heaven and Earth!
Must I remeber? Why, we depend on one another,
As if one fails, we all fail, within a month-
Let me not think on't-Frailty, thy season ends!-
A little month, or ere those cleats were old
With which we fight along side one another,
Like solid ground, hard and dependable:-why us?
O, God! A beast, that wants discourse of reason,
Would even mourn our struggles.
We are like our founding fathers, although not fighting for freedom,
But rather victory on the gridiron: within a month:
Ere yet the salt of most acceptable tears
Will fall from our flushing eyes,
With a win. Or, with seasons end,
Will the tears flow in our sheet!
It is unfair that we cannot come to good:
But end this steak; for seasons end comes.
Andrew Goldstein
Per. 4
Oh, that this too, too difficult job would end
Return, and form itself into a paycheck
Or that my boss had not fixed his rules against slacking off. Oh Gd, Gd, how long, strenuous, and tedious seems to me this job!
I would rather lay in a garden of weeds
That grows to seed. Employees constantly running around catering to the managers demands
Possess it entirely. That I should come to work!
But six months gone, nay, not so much, not two,
So excellent an unemployed life, that was to this
Sleep and television all day, so relaxing to the body
That I might not beteem the winds of work
Visit my job too often. Heaven and earth, must I remember my duties? Why, I would hang on to it
As if appetite for a break had grown
By what it fed on; and yet within six months-
Let me not think of it: torture, thy name is work-
A brief sick day, or ere these Air Force One's were old with which I went to the beach and partied
Like a bum, no goals, why I, even I-
Oh Gd, an employee who possesses a greater work ethic
Would have taken more days off- returned to work,
My hated occupation, but no more like unemployment
Than I to a slave. Within six months,
Ere yet the salt of most righteous tears
Had welled in the pits of my ungrateful eyes,
I applied. Oh, most wicked speed, to be hired
With such dexterity in a difficult job!
It is not, nor it cannot come to good.
But put on my uniform, for I must go to work.
Michael Ashoori
Period-4
Oh that this too, too clouded mind woud clear,
open up, and be filled with knowledge
Or that the waters flow again from its fountain.
Oh Poe! Aristotle!
How empty, barren, wasteful, and dead
seem to me the vessels of my peers.
Phft! Their minds nothing but unweeded gardens
That grow nothing but pervese thoughts; action unfit to even lend the ear of the Forgiver of sins
Yet months: nay, not so short, not a few meisly months,
So horrific a group; that was, to this,
Lucifier to God; so hurtful to each other
That they might beteem the fires of hell
Visit their enemies.Stars and quantums!
Must I yeild to minds unfit? why, I would draw out information
As if increase apetite had grown from the wprds it fed upon: and yet, in years to come--
let me think not of it--insanity thy name is regret!
A little month, or ere their minds still new
with which they followed the footsteps of the blind
Like rocks, no brains--yet even they—
O, God! a fool, that wants discourse of reason,
would have known better!
Shiloh Stone
Period 4
I turned this upside down and since I love my job I made it into a good thing rather than bad.
O, that this not enough work would I have to do
Thaw and resolve itself into a promotion!
Or that the manager had not given.
His canon with good ethics! O Best Buy! O Best Buy!
How good, trained, helpful and profitable,
Seem to me all the uses of this promotion!
Tis like a dream come true in terms of my first job,
That grows to rise up; a job that is profitable and fun in work
Work at it. That I want it to come to this day!
With two months in: yes, already this much, just two:
So excellent a job; that is this,
Compare me to a good salesman; so loving to my job
That it might give me even a better promotion
Visit work 5 days a week. Best and Buy!
I remember. What I was without a job,
As if increase of boredom had grown
By what it fed on: and yet, when I wanted to have a job I got it--
Let me think on't—CAREER, thy name is Best Buy(maybe)!--
A little month, or ere those days were good
With which I follow'd my newly found success,
Like Brad Anderson (The CEO of Best Buy), I shall become.
O, God! a man, that may want a future as a salesman like my dad,
Would have worked longer—to be at the top like Brad.
My father's job is amazing, and I wish to be like him.
Than I to my father: within a few years:
I hope to come to the top of careers
Had left the ranks of past with my future associates,
I made it to the top. O, most amazing speed, to live
With such happiness at my job and home.
It is not nor it cannot come to soon:
But hope, for me; for I must work for long.
-Russell Tuchman
-Per. 4
-I hope that silloquey works
Oh that this hypocritical
society would wake up and realize
that double standards rot us from within
while media is censored thoroughly
Youth abuses vices oh God God
how hypocritical our thinking ways are
seems society has its standards doubled
fie on it all we live in debauched sin
hypocrisy rules against mother nature
mere mortality is not the right excuse
for our bashing people for smoking
while lighters are a teen accessory
we condemn pornography yet at the same time we accept
girls dressed like Victoria's Secret Angels
Society opposes all abuse
Yet we don't do away with death penalty
why may one not swear in a sole sentence
when Eminem can swear for a whole CD
Oh society thy breath reeks of hypocrisy
A teen in the US cannot drink yet
In Amsterdam it is allowed at sixteen
and less people over there care about it
the hearts of the french are healthier than ours
because they drink a glass of red wine a day
everyone claims to be so morbidly obese
yet lines still form at local fast food joints
Amish condemn us for our violent ways
Yet they have had five people shot at once
women are bashed for abortion daily
yet oddly enough infanticide still exists
our society will come to no good
if we continue this hypocrisy
-masha telishevsky period 6
O, that this too too analytical mind would calm,
Reason with its paranoia of perfecting mortal love.
Or that the heart and mind hade not chosen
To contradict! O F*cksicle! F*cksicle!
How anxious, dizzy, bewildered, and confused
Seem to me all thoughts of this mind!
Fart on't! ah fart! 'tis perfecting something already perfected,
Flaw is the truth of appreciation which expectation shall express,
Fall deeper than ever before, your pleasure will be worth the
Exchange of thy bliss, plummet will the depth of thy despair,
But fear not ‘twill arise!
But two month these questions: nay, not so much, not two:
So excellent a perspective; now turning to insanity;
Constant consideration of situation,
Terminating life for possible advance
Love and conscious!
Must I care? why, why dwell on’t,
As if increase of appetite had grown
By what it fed on: and yet, within a month--
Let me not think on't! --Frailty, thy name is Addiction!--
In a little month, obsession has arisen,
To advance in thy quest for the everlasting love that awaits
In a place of time,
O, F*cksicle! An animal, would have more answers to give,
‘tis but a fact of life, thoughts of idiotic mentality,
This mentality no more like mine
Than mine to a republican: within a month:
Thy expected despair makes itself predominant before
You’ve even tasted thy coming ecstasy.
O, most wicked mind, to so quickly
Fall for this love, always mortal love!
It is not nor it cannot come to good:
But break, my heart; for I do believe love to be worth its despair.
Hannah Kaufman Per.6
O, that this too, too could be one sweet world
Thaw and resolve itself into my dream girl!
Or that the Dodo had not fix'd
His canon 'gainst self-slaughter!
Some Devil! Devil!
How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable,
Seem to me all the uses of this world!
Fie on't! ah fie! 'tis a grey street
That has become crazy; things such as rhyme and reason that are not found in nature
Possess it merely.
What will become of me!
But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two:
So excellent a king; that was, to this,
Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother
That he might not beteem the winds of heaven
Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth!
Is it out of my hands? why, she would hang on him,
As if he was the best of what's around
By what it fed on: and yet, within a month--
Let me not think on't--Baby, thy name is woman!--
A little month, or ere those shoes were old
With which she follow'd my poor father's body,
Like Gravediggers, all tears:--why she, even she--
O, God! a monkey man, that wants discourse of reason,
Would have mourn'd longer--married with my uncle,
My father's brother, but no more like my father
Than I to the police: within a month:
Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears
Had left the flushing in her galled eyes,
She married. Oh, what is the weight of the world, to post
With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!
The deed is done:
But break, my heart; for I must hold my tongue.
Tara Miller, Period 6
O, that this too too exciting spring season would come to an end!
Or that there could be just a few more games to watch! O baseball Gods! O baseball Gods!
How boring and lifeless the winter must be without the fine sport of baseball!
Fie on't! ah fie! 'tis weeds in the outfield that tear my soul and rip out the spirit of baseball within.That it should come to this!
But 162 games plus the postseason all gone after four wins in the World Series by the St. Louis Cardinals.
Heaven and Earth! Why must I remember of why the sport of baseball runs through my blood as if it lives there and knows how to satisfy my entertainment receptors!
A little month of October, known to the baseball worshippers as the best month ever, shall bring such excitement on me--O baseball Gods!
And now, I must wait 'til the grass of 31 baseball stadiums hath become green once again, 'til the bats hath been shaven and weighted precisely, 'til once again the 31 teams of the MLB are ready and excited to go!
Miles Silverstein
Period 4
Oh that this too too milk would curdle,
Harden and form a rhine!
Or that the time would come where I could eat that heavenly cheese
How creamy, soft, delicious, and awful it would be to not import that omnipotent cheese!
The curdled bits are like weeds taking over until it consumes the milk-that it should come to cheese!
But two years have gone by, nay, not so much, not two.
So lucky a day to have that cheese with bread
To include cheese with my dinner
Visit my plate with your presence.-Heaven and earth!
Must I remember not eating that cheese?-Why I would eat all of it
Not leaving any of it left
As if my stomach only wanted it filled with cheese
But the only thing I ate was the bread;-and yet within one day-
Let me not think of it!-It is the cheese I can only think of!-
A few more hours! and I can walk down to the store to buy that cheese
Walking down the path I just went only a day ago,
Oh God, a fromagerist would have waited longer-to have that taste in the mouth,
My will could not, it will not
Like I to Fromag de Clorones-With 24 hours!
And I see the cheese which brings tears,
To my eyes ,
I purchase it. Oh how wonderful it is to eat the cheese
To sit there with a piece of bread and cheese on top!
It is only good that will come with my indulgence of expensive cheese
But in the end I will tell myself next time at the market I will try not to buy that cheese.
Laura Lascoe
period 6
Computer Problems
O, that this too too crappy hold music
Thaw and resolve itself into something good!
Or that the company had not fixed
It's warranty 'gainst self-preformed service! O God! God!
How annoying, time wasting, stupid and useless,
Seem to me all the uses of this service contract!
Fie on't! ah fie! 'tis an unweeded garden
That grows to seed; things wasteful and stupid in nature
Possess it merely. That it should come to this!
But two days broken: nay, not so much, not two:
So excellent a computer; that was, to this,
Hyperion to a satyr; so awesome to it's system
That it might not beteem the viruses of the net
Visit the system too roughly. Heaven and earth!
Must I remember? Why, it would run perfectly
As if created just for the user
By some higher power: and yet, within a year or so--
Let me not think on't--Frailty, thy name is Dell!--
A short little time, or ere this mouse was old
With which I ran my poor computer's programs,
Like Niobe, all tears:--why it, even it--
O, God! an Apple II, with a toaster burnt inside,
Would have work'd longer-- stay'd active and running,
To a virus, but no more like my last computer
Than I to Hercules: within such a short time:
Ere yet the data of most unrighteous software
Had left the flushing in her corrupt hard drive,
It Crahsed. O, most wicked speed, to post
With such dexterity to unworking systems!
It is not nor it cannot come to good:
But break, my heart; for I must hold on the line for a representative.
Michael Tarlow Period 6.
(Attach to last post or post after or whatever)
Oh, that school, the school is so boring, even more everyday.
Or I wish that god would make it un neccesary.
I would have him make all rich with no school, no knowledge needed.That I would sleep all day! But five hours, five hours to eat and play polo!
So exciting a day to come with all sleep and no work.. Oh how amazing!
God of all.. please!
Tis not fun, nor exciting, as it makes me dream while staring at the white board!
T.V., and sleep, the only thing I need, no school! tis very BORING!
Oh God ... the drule on the desk in Mr. Godburns class, so un neccesary;writing, calculating, working,Oh God WHY?
Oh God of all... I see school is neccesary; to make me unhappy and to make me work!
But no... I will stare at the white board as Mr. Godburn speaks, as I have no choice!
I must!
Jason Cordova per.4
O, that this too too common a sight would disappear for more than two blocks,
Or provide more than just a nation crazed for caffeine! O java!
Java!
How hyper, hooked, needed and craved you have become to these young people! No! Oh no it's a stimulant that someone of such stamina should not need
Within their system- It comes to this!
The late nights! Far too many,
Too many.
So excellent, a full night's rest is for the body that the pillow of Sleep
Would cradle a weary head- to dream!
A night, a sleep is so rarely visited
As if some desire for the product by which they feed is more important-
This must not be- Starbucks thy name is global!
A little less addiction to your elixers
That are so wanted and pleaded for constantly,
Would be the answer to the problem-
O java, a single bean has taken over
The country and more- together with hot water,
Into a brew, but no more than that it is
Yet it has such a dooming grip!
The juice of this small bean has
Had so many fooled into desperate
Cries for more and more in tired voices,
Not needed- O devilish sincerity to promise
Something better in the future for
Acute senses
With such dexterity and swift lures!
Java is not, nor it cannot replace-
But break thy sleep pattern for this drink.
Tony Romo and the Cowboys of a Modern Hamlet
HAMLET
O, that this too this scoreboard would
change its scored into a dallas fans favor!
Or that Bill Parcell had not fix'd
His canon 'gainst an interception! O Bledsoe! Bledsoe!
How old, immobile, hesitant and unprofitable,
Seems to be all the sorrows of this team!
Fie on't! ah fie! 'tis disheartened team,
That continues to fall; fumbles and turnovers in all quarters
Possess it merely. That it should come to this!
But one Sunday night game come, Tony Romo:
So excellent a quarterback; that was, to this,
Hyperion to Troy Aikmen; so accurate of a passer
That he might lead the distraught team to super bowl XLI
And tonight, Visit the panthers too roughly.!
Must I remember? why, the they would hang on to Bledsoe,
As the increases of turnovers had grown
By what it fed on: and yet, within a month--
Let me not think on't—The cowboys losing all three road games!--
A little month, or ere those cleats were old
With which he follow'd old Aikmens legacy,
Like Starbach, all hope regained:--why he, even he--
O, Romo! a beast, that wants completion of all downs,
Would have endured longer--married to the bench,
The Cowboys new Quarterback, but no more a rookie
Than Godburn to Shakespeare: within 4 quarters:
Shown his true colors to all of dallas
Had left Carloina with a 35-14 victory in her galled eyes,
She cried. O, most wicked speed, As he handed off
With such agility to Barber!
It is and will cometo good, this sudden change:
But break, my heart; for I must place my bets on the Dallas cowboys.
=]
The Life of a Camp Counselor
Oh that this too too hot day would end, cool off and turn into night. Or that I did not have to drink gefilte fish today.
Oh God, God, how abnoxious, loud, and rowdy my girls seem to be today. My group is a garden of weeds that grows to seed. Eight-year-olds so spoiled and whiny possess it completely! That it should come to this! But four periods left! nay, not so much, not four.
So amazing a party at Iceman's last Wednesday was to this like break at the Cornerstore, so relaxing with my ice cream that I might not beteem the boys from Santa Barbara to visit my mind too often.
Must I remember? Why, I would hop into that black truck after the soccer game as if appetite for love had grown by what it fed on; and yet within weeks! Let me not think of it. Sex God, thy name is Carebear!
A month later, or ere these Vans were old with which I walked up the hill to Go-Carts and Horses, like a chocolate bar melting under the sun, and dripping with sweat. Why I, even I, Oh God, even Nar-Nar would have only worked three-days-a-week.
But I almost married Kojack, my "uncle," but no more like my uncle than I to Jojo. Within weeks,
Ere the chlorine from the waterslide had left my eyes stinging, camp ended. Oh, most wicked speed I will return to be married (after July 8th).
It is not, nor it cannot come to an end. But break my fingers, I must finish my lanyard.
Layla Church
Per. 6
Bradley Goran-Period 6
A Fan's Sorrow
O, that this too too quick lead would melt, Melt and evaporate itself into nothingness, I thought the Everlasting had fix'd his cannon against self slaughter! Oh baseball Gods! How tired, stunned, and uninspired seem to me all the money spent on them. Fie on 2006! The stadium's grass will remain unweededed for months; and so will A-rod's fear; a thing so gross in nature that none should posess it, that he let it come to this. That it should come to a loss! But 2 weeks dead, nay not so much, not two: So excellent a captain; that was, to this, Jesus to his people; so dedicated to his team, That his team my again reach heaven, visit the classic too easily. Heaven and Earth! Must I remember? why, Rogers' breaks would hang on all, as if he wanted to lose, by what the fans fed on: and yet, within a month-- Let me not think on't-- Frailty, thy name is gambler!-- A simple month, or ere these cleets were old, with which this new curse follows my poor team, Like Liza Minelli, all tears:--why she, even she-- O, God! A team, that lacks discourse of reason, would have played harder-- married with the fall classic, The Tigers a good team, but no more better to the Yankees, than I to Rivera: within a month: Ere yet the breaks of most unrighteous balls Had left the strike zone in the batters' eyes, They gone. O, most wicked 5-game series, to allow with such ease to unimportant Octobers! It is nor it cannot come to good for baseball: But break his heart; for A-Rod must hold his tongue.
O, that this college application would dissapear
Thaw and resolve itself into an acceptance letter!
Or that the admission office become more leniant
To allow anyone who wish to attend a spot! O God! God!
How long, useless, boring and tedious,
Seem to me all the uses of this application!
I would rather hang out in an unweeded garden,
Than to sit in front of my computer and fill out this application
So much work to get a decent education. That it should come to this!
Must I remember? why am I filling this out,
As if I love to brag about what I have done in high school
For four years I worked so hard and yet, within an application--
Let me not think on't-- Admission would be nice!--
O, God! an application, that needs to be filled out by the end of the month,
Would have love to have longer--must be turned in soon,
My grades and extracurriculars are fine, but no more than the rest of my class
Than from I to the people in admission: within a month:
Must continue to fill out these appliction
Give it to the other people to judge,
They will read. O, most hardworked essays, to evaluate my grades
With such judgemental and opinoinated views!
It is not nor it cannot come to good:
But end, my stress; for I must be admitted
--Elita Hemmati, Period 4
HAWTHORNE (HAMLET) HEIGHTS
O, that this too too putrid band would break up,
return to Ohio and go work at a Dairy Queen!
Or that the Everlasting Tony Brummel had not fix'd
His canon 'gainst contract-breaching! O God! God!
How weary, stale, flat and surprisingly profitable,
Seem to me all the records of this band!
Fie on't! ah fie! Victory Records is an unweeded garden,
That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature
make lots of money. That it should come to this!
But two years dead: nay, not so much, not two:
So excellent a band was Thursday; that was, to this,
Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to its fans
That they might not beteem the pitfalls of success and selling-out
Visit its fanbase. Heaven and earth!
Must I remember? why, Thursday would play so well,
As if increase of intensity had grown
By what it fed on: and yet, within a year--
Let me not think on't--Consumerism, thy name is Victory!--
A little year, or ere those tattered, Warped-worn shoes were old
With which Thursday left Victory Records,
Like Taking Back Sunday, all tears:--why they, even they--
O, God! a beast, that wants discourse of reason,
Would have left sooner--married with Island Records,
a major label, but no more like sell-outs
Than Against Me! to Sire: within a year:
Yet the music of Hawthorne Heights
Has left the ringing in our pained ears.
O, most wicked speed, to post-hardcore overnight fame
With such horrible lyrics to moronic scenesters!
It is not nor it cannot come to good:
But break, my heart; Hawthorne Heights must, for the love of God, hold their tongues.
David Burris per. 4
O, that this too too teeming gridlock would dissolve
Melt and resolve itself into speedy travel!
Or that the Everlasting had not created
These dim-witted pilots of incessant honking! O God! God!
How weary, tired, frustrated and enraged,
I have become due to this intermittent stumble forward!
Fie on't! ah fie! 'tis an unweeded garden,
A vile hell; things brainless and gawking in nature
Possess it merely. That it should come to this!
It is as if all have driven for but two months: nay, not so much, not two:
So excellent a street it once was;
So flowing to my happy vehicle
That it might be blown the winds of heaven
Through a clear road. Heaven and earth!
Must I remember? why, these people would appear within moments,
As if increase of appetite had grown
By what it fed on: and it seems they all have driven only for a month--
Let me not think on't--aggravation, thy name is overpopulation!--
A little month, or ere those shoes were old
With which these dullards receiv’d their driving approval,
O, God! a beast, that wants discourse of reason,
Would be driving more intelligently-
Having driven only for a month:
Ere yet the beginnings of puberty
Had become prevalent among these young drivers,
They got their licenses. O, most wicked speed, to post
With such dexterity to driving privileges!
It is not nor it cannot come to good:
But break, my heart;
For I am finally out of the Calabasas parking lot.
Alex Ringe
Period 6
ps shane stole my idea
Oh, that this too, too difficult shot on net would score
Return, and shape itself into a goal, or that the Official had not fixed his prideful calls against the underdog. Oh God, God
How prideful, picky, tedious and unreasonable
Seem to me all the penalities of this game!
My helmet is a pool of sweat
That drips down my face. Players tired and weary on the
Ice
Skate in vain. That I should come to score!
But two slapshots gone, nay, not so much, not
Two,
So excellent a summer, that was to this
Sleep to an exhausted body, so restful to my
hamstring
That I might not concede the winds of fatigue
Visit my body to often. Heaven and Earth,
Must I remember my playbook? Why, I would hang
on to it
As if appetite for summer leagues had grown
By what it fead on; and yet within the winter leagues-
Let me not think of highschool hockey; tortue, thy name is
summer without discpline; pickup games that do not count--
A painful respite, or ere these skates were dull
With which I coasted the ice and the summer sidewalks
Like a vagrant, no cares, why I, even I--
Oh GOh, a pewee palyer who posesses more
Skill
Would have vactioned longer-returned to
travel hockey,
My aggressive ice time but no more like the
summer
Than I the Gretzky. Within a few games,
Ere yet the salt of dryed- on sweat
had stained the pits of my drenched jearsey,
I re-signed. Oh, most wicked speed, to join
With such stickhandling with amature team mates!
It is not, nor I cannot score the goals.
But deke and cut, for I must shoot on the net...
come what may.
Landon Ball (a.k.a. L-Ball)
period # 4
<< Home