The Epic Battle of Crazy Henry
So this past summer, when I had taken Grad. Project, Jordan and I would stand outside in the front of the school and wait for my mum's Big Red Chimovaggen of Heysues Kreestow to pick me up for lunch. Well, a few of these days, we saw this cute little nutter of a squirrel and dubbed him Crazy Henry. He's crazy, because the first time we spotted him, he went over to this group of huge blobby seagulls and totally assulted them like there was no tomorrow - for a small, holey plastic bag from Safeway.
And so, we decided to make an epic poem [like, you know, Shakespeare or the Odessey - unfortunately, it ended up being more of an extended haiku!] all about this famous battle. Which I did: Here it is!
THE EPIC BATTLE OF CRAZY HENRY
The mighty ancient pine tree*
Stretched strong towering limbs to the heavens;
Gazing from his high perch with narrowed black-bead eyes
On magnificent haunches:
Crazy Henry.
Maddened from lonely years of his
Alientation and isolation,*
Burning with insanity and spiraling in
To the dark velvet abyss
Of his mind deep.
A pause - he jumps with sleek grace
(A midnight feline would envy such elegance):
Leaps and bounds, down the cracked bark - split rivers of
Coarse, hard wood that splinters and
Snaps into shards.
His eyes on the prize before
Him; imprisoned within a guard of tainted white,
Vicious, squabbling idiots - birds of prey who
Argue and defend their gem:
An old, dead bag.
The treasure, beautiful as
It sways, gently grazing the warm cement lot; it
Drifts along the currents, among the bickering
Wall of feathers and squawking:
Shattering wails.
He dives, dashing, darting. He
Weaves through the massive giants, snatching wildly at
The splendiferous masterpiece. A blur of fluff,
Racing in circles of chaos:
Such ninja skills.
Bright orange beaks peck upon
Him, a merciless rain of deadly blows. Yet he
Persists, perserveres, prevails against the daft foe;
With nimble bounds he springs to
attack. Blood wounds.
Shrieks, a flurry, flagrant
Massacre of sordid violence; the foray ends
In a whirlwind tornado of desperate leave
As the flock escapes the storm -
Nefarious.
The moribund frenzy quelled;
Quiescence descends upon the stilled gray desert.
The savage animosity pales, slinking back
To the abstract pit; insane
Or valient?
He wanders warily, the
Treasure caught tight in hand; triumphant and proud as
He holds victory, going
Back, sinking in to endless
Oblivion.
* The tree is a quote from my AP English Language teacher when describing the difference between figurative and boring language.
* And this is the main themes of every book and life lesson, as said by my AP English Literature teacher.
And so, we decided to make an epic poem [like, you know, Shakespeare or the Odessey - unfortunately, it ended up being more of an extended haiku!] all about this famous battle. Which I did: Here it is!
THE EPIC BATTLE OF CRAZY HENRY
The mighty ancient pine tree*
Stretched strong towering limbs to the heavens;
Gazing from his high perch with narrowed black-bead eyes
On magnificent haunches:
Crazy Henry.
Maddened from lonely years of his
Alientation and isolation,*
Burning with insanity and spiraling in
To the dark velvet abyss
Of his mind deep.
A pause - he jumps with sleek grace
(A midnight feline would envy such elegance):
Leaps and bounds, down the cracked bark - split rivers of
Coarse, hard wood that splinters and
Snaps into shards.
His eyes on the prize before
Him; imprisoned within a guard of tainted white,
Vicious, squabbling idiots - birds of prey who
Argue and defend their gem:
An old, dead bag.
The treasure, beautiful as
It sways, gently grazing the warm cement lot; it
Drifts along the currents, among the bickering
Wall of feathers and squawking:
Shattering wails.
He dives, dashing, darting. He
Weaves through the massive giants, snatching wildly at
The splendiferous masterpiece. A blur of fluff,
Racing in circles of chaos:
Such ninja skills.
Bright orange beaks peck upon
Him, a merciless rain of deadly blows. Yet he
Persists, perserveres, prevails against the daft foe;
With nimble bounds he springs to
attack. Blood wounds.
Shrieks, a flurry, flagrant
Massacre of sordid violence; the foray ends
In a whirlwind tornado of desperate leave
As the flock escapes the storm -
Nefarious.
The moribund frenzy quelled;
Quiescence descends upon the stilled gray desert.
The savage animosity pales, slinking back
To the abstract pit; insane
Or valient?
He wanders warily, the
Treasure caught tight in hand; triumphant and proud as
He holds victory, going
Back, sinking in to endless
Oblivion.
* The tree is a quote from my AP English Language teacher when describing the difference between figurative and boring language.
* And this is the main themes of every book and life lesson, as said by my AP English Literature teacher.