Molding a New Flat

For anyone who is interested, I am going to tell you the tale of the 'Moldy Walls'. It is based on a true story that only happened about a week ago. So, without further ado:

'Moldy Walls' by: Caitlin

Once upon a time there was a lovely young lady, who everyone loved. Her name was Caitlin, of course. Now, Caitlin had been hearing stories about people finding black, poisonous mold in their rooms, but Caitlin had been moving her furniture around in her room and never saw any, so she paid the stories no mind. Well, one day at about midnight, when Caitlin was getting ready for bed, her roommate asked her to look at a sploch on her wall, and guess what it was? Correct! It was black, poisonous mold!

Well, Caitlin was worried about her friend sleeping in the room with the mold, so they moved her friend's bed to a mold-free room, emailed the people in charge, and took a picture of the mold as proof. Because of this, and all the other issues with nearby rooms getting mold, the school sent a contractor down to inspect the building and decided that the issue was structural, so the building should be renovated and everyone moved out.

After a long weekend of waiting patiently (because the school was not sure where they had room to move everyone) Caitlin and her friends awaited the news of where they were going to live, and did their best to avoid the murderous mold. Finally they were told they could move to another flat nearby, which they did immediately. It was hard to move everything, but it was worth it.

Once the move was complete, Caitlin and her friend's rejoiced by going out and getting curry and a pint for 5 pounds at a nearby pub instead of cooking dinner. And they all lived happily ever after. The End.

Below I have also attached a short poem I wrote about the same issue, also titled 'Moldy Walls'.

Moldy Walls

Mildew, Moist,             Rotten, Rejoice.

It grows and stretches,
Leaving behind traces of poison.

I can feel it here.                                     The spores in the air,
Are flying about,           Sitting deep in your hair.

There is some on the wall,            Some in carpet,
Some on the ceiling and some in the hall.
I hope it leaves soon,
             This plant world viper.
                         It calls on other bacteria,
Like a third-world piper.

                   It is black and splotchy,
Like a lizard’s new egg.
      I hate this damn stuff,           I think it is toxic.

You can’t hide in here,           There, or over there either.
It knows where you are,   You can’t move any farther.
Good luck to you all,
        I hope we survive.
But honestly, sir,                                        We are deep in it's hive.

              I am leaving,
Forever from here.                        I cannot be asked to stay,
         When the company's grey.
Outside in the air,            I can breath once again.
And pass on the horrors,
Of the mold's long reign.

[End]

Until next time...

Embrace the Odd,
Caitlin

"Never fight an inanimate object." -P. J. O'Rourke

Paying the Meter

After writing that poem about the giant hill I have to walk up everyday, I decided I would try to get more into poetry. Because of this I went and looked at the different requirements for a real ode and found that you usually write one in iambic meter. I then had to learn what that was.

It is, as most of you probably know, a way to make your poems more lyrical and easier to sing. (Ok, I don't actually know that. I am just guessing.) There are also three other kinds of ways to structure your poems meter. They are listed below with how to structure them.

Iambic --> unstressed syllable, stressed syllable
Trochaic --> stressed, unstressed
Dactylic --> stressed, unstressed, unstressed
Anapestic --> unstressed, unstressed, stressed
And depending on the number of them used, makes up the meter. (i.e. monometer=one set, pentameter=five sets, octameter=eight sets)

I have written a few short couplets using the different meters and they are below. Although, I honestly have no idea how to tell if a syllable is stressed or not or any rules about them, so these are really just good tries. (I really can't even tell the difference between syllables sometimes.)

"Hello" (Iambic Couplet, Pentameter)
I am / af-raid / to say / good day / my dear,
To end / is such / a sad / be-gin -/- ing here.

"Cigarettes" (Trochaic Couplet, Pentameter)
Si-lent / the smell / cig-arr -/- ettes bring / ch-oke
The life / out of / the liv -/- ing soul, / soak-ed. 
[A lot of people were smoking near me while I was writing.]

"Falling" (Dactylic Couplet, Monometer)
So I fall
Last of all.

"Meter" (Anapestic Couplet, Tretameter)
All me-ter / is ra-ther / diff-i-cult,
I th-ink / it is fun / as well though.

Until next time...

Embrace the Odd,
Caitlin

"The mellow sweetness of pumpkin pie off a prison spoon is something you will never forget." -Mitchell Burgess

Ode to My Giant Hill

Today I am going to grace you all with a poem I have written about a hill that I have to walk up every day to get to get pretty much anywhere.

Ode to My Giant Hill

Steep, steep,
Forever winding.
I climb up, 
But you have no ending.
Too high you go,
Too far to walk.
I must keep going,
This is bollock.
The squirrels are glad,
But not me.
I'm walking up this hill,
In spite of thee.

The black road goes,
On and on.
Time is passing.
Is it dawn?
Much to far,
Forever unceasing.
Will it end?
I think I'm dying.

Out of breath,
But more to go.
My legs are jelly,
I hope it won't show.
I want to cry,
It's no lie.

I see the end,
Almost there.
Dear God, thank you.
I need a chair.

Oh wait there's more,
I'll rest on the floor.

Don't wait up.

(End)

I am one day going to redo this poem as an actual Ode and try to follow the real poem restrictions.

Embrace the Odd,
Caitlin

"The world is my lobster." -Henry J. Tillman