Thread: Garbled Aspiration To Be Like Tolkien

Please don't read this seriously; it's supposed to be at least a little comical. And don't ask me what I was thinking when I wrote it. And no, it isn't really supposed to make sense. I actually have no idea what any of you will think of it...so I'm taking a bit of a risk this way.

GARBLED ASPIRATION TO BE LIKE TOLKIEN

My memory is the size of a toothpick point,
my speech as feeble as a dislocated joint.
Had I been a renowned fantastical scholar like Tolkien,
I’d have not blasted all reality in my head to smithereens.
But I am me, a human of sorts
that laughs, spazzes, and makes some loud snorts.
I am weird to the fullest, no doubt that may be;
I cry so absurdly and yell so obscene.
I jump in and out of meter and rhyme
like a scatter-brained Tigger all the time.
I’d pay attention in class if I could,
but I don’t always do as I should.
Such like this poem, perhaps,
with all its mishaps.
It’s a little out of place I think.
Compared to scholarly writing, it’s a kink.
This is what I do when I can’t write well:
it’s a mess of a jumble of words from Hell.
The topic’s not really stated clearly.
I think my skills are lacking severely.
But in all honesty, I truly believe
that Tolkien’s Middle Earth was initially not wholly perceived.
Because in the beginning, he probably started from scratch
and out of his head came hobbits and orc rift-rafts.
If in some age, my memory and speech dwindle,
I’ll still aspire to create a world, though less simple.