Wednesday, May 20, 2009


Just in case the whole photography business doesn't pan out like I am hoping it will, I thought I would try my hand at poetry. In Junior High I had to do a report on the poet William Carlos Williams (creative name, no?). And I thought his poem about peaches was,, nothing too special, but it made him famous, so I thought it was interesting.

Here is his poem.

This Is Just To Say

by William Carlos Williams
I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox
and which
you were probably
for breakfast
Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

So in an effort to kill two birds with one stone, I thought I would seek validation from Blaine while also honing my poem writing skills. See, sometimes I do something scrub the mutant fungus out of the shower. And it takes all day, and the rest of the house is a mess. Then I get all mad at Blaine when he doesn't notice immediately that I scrubbed the shower. So I figured to be fair to him I would leave him a note taped to the shower. He gives me the validation I need, I practice my poetry, and I don't get mad at him for not noticing. It's what Michael Scott would call a win-win-win.

My note to Blaine...

This is Just to Say

I have scrubbed
the fungus
that was in
the shower

and which
you were probably saving
for a science experiment

forgive me
it was multiplying
and staging a hostile takeover of the master bath
so disgusting
and so unsanitary

Your friend in fending off diseases bourne of soap scum,



Janae said...

I love it!

Angela said...

William Williams got nothin' on THAT.

Blaine said...

I'm surprised this one didn't get more comments. Anyway, I think it is funny. And OH SO true ;-)

Shauna said...

That first poem is one of my all time favorites. I use it on Mike all the time in different variations. The second one may also be one of my all time favorites now. You would have made an excellent English major, my friend.

Stef Bassett said...

love the poem Kris, how did Blaine like it? :0

Stefanie Miller said...

Kris, I've known for years that you are a poet at heart. If I find one of your old poems I'll put it on here. One went something like this, written in your AP Calculus class:

The wrath of math grips at my soul... (I can't remember several other lines, until the very end): Jed just tapped me on the shoulder, his calculator to display. That's all he does all period long, yet he still gets an 'A'! (I think he was playing tetris or something.)