April 22, 2007

A Poem For Class

I am enrolled in a class that makes us write poems occassionally. This one happens to be a persona poem, in which the poet takes the voice of someone/something besides themself and acts like that character. I decided to do Monica Lewinsky.

I did try to rhyme, and I became lazy with iambic pentameter (almost to the point that it doesn’t even have a general pattern). I aplogize for any parts in the poem in which it doesn’t flow. I got lazy.

Hope you enjoy!


Monica’s Indic(k)ment
By: Courtney Scott


Mr. President Clinton,
“I wish you would understand
What I can contribute and
That my credentials are grand.”

“Please take me around
and show me the place
It would be ideal
To step up my pace.”

“I have a meeting tomorrow
In which is coming too soon
I must succeeded and prosper
I’ll see you next afternoon.”

“What is this now?
You want me stay?
My job is important
So I will obey.”

You take me by the hand
And show me your work room
“The Oval Office is phenomenal!”
And I feel too consumed.

“How could your office
Be so professional?
I do love it all! And admire
You and your congressional”

“What is this now?
You want to show me more?”
We drift to your bedroom,
And you show me the décor.

It is so lovely
I think to myself
I wish I lived here and could read
The books on that shelf.

You signal me now
To come near your location
Should I proceed?
And disrupt our relation


It seems that you like me
But I assume it is lust
You eyes seem to drift
Towards the prime of my bust

I’ve never felt sexy
By a man of your reputation
Looking into your eyes
Creates a sinful temptation

You whisper in my ear
And you gather me close
Your breathe is so sweet
And curls all my toes

You have me trapped
I want to give you pleasure
I just hope this will not
Become the way I will be measured


A mirror is hanging
Near the location of crime
I’m well out of practice, so
I hope it’s sublime


I get on my knees
And in the reflection
I see no visage
But only a sizable erection

I complete the task at hand
And clean up the mess
I hope it did not transfer
To my expensive blue dress

“I should be going now.
It is rather late.
I will see you later
At the fiscal policy group in the states. “

I walk to my residence
And feel a regret
Will I get caught?
I break out in sweat.

I walk in my kitchen
And appears an agitative flutter
I wish I was not fallible
I reach for the butter.

I binge all night
To fix my compunction
It tears my inside
To live this dysfunction

I am not perfect
I have many afflictions
Life is more than the nuance
Of my human “addiction’”

Tonight has been validated
Sex is an event
I just wish I could have
Felt more content.

Posted by Courtney at 12:11 PM | Comments (3703)