Billy Collins poems and today I am okay.

This poem by billy collins is funny:

The neighbors’ dog will not stop barking.
He is barking the same high, rhythmic bark
that he barks every time they leave the house.
They must switch him on on their way out.

The neighbors’ dog will not stop barking.
I close all the windows in the house
and put on a Beethoven symphony full blast
but I can still hear him muffled under the music,
barking, barking, barking,

and now I can see him sitting in the orchestra,
his head raised confidently as if Beethoven
had included a part for barking dog.

When the record finally ends he is still barking,
sitting there in the oboe section barking,
his eyes fixed on the conductor who is
entreating him with his baton

while the other musicians listen in respectful
silence to the famous barking dog solo,
that endless coda that first established
Beethoven as an innovative genius.

 

I have decided to sell the harp. Honda sold the 2004 Blue honda that I wanted. Perhaps I should have signed that finance agreement for them to hold it. anyways, I need to get a new car and that is why I am selling the harp. so, the hunt is on and I am asking God to guide me. I need to get my act together: get a job, credit, a place of my own and be settled before I get a harp. I jumped the gun.

 

I stole a pop-tart from my roommate but went to the store and bought her another one to make amends.   gonna look at homework and go play the school harp.

Advertisements

About eagles11eyes

smart, athletic, musical
This entry was posted in poetry, school paper and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s