An Original Collection of Poems by Blake Meyer

The Chronicles of Blake – Volume XCVI (ninety-six)
Or check bjunewsletter.com for some incredible kicks

Hello All My Wonderful and Faithful Newsletterinarians,
This Newsletter will be one big Poem
About snow and paint and vegetarians.

But alas, that would take me to long
So Erika suggests I make it a song.
A song of trees and of flowers and of apes,
Of beanies and of scary places and of grapes.
But still, that would take me too long.
Why not just ditch the idea of song?
But I like it so much, it has always been my dream.
So I will attempt it, though cheesy it may seem.

Please don’t be a critic. It’s harder than it looks.
If you don’t like it, you may get back to your books
Of Hobbits and Giants and Spaniards and kings,
Of Cats in Hats and elephants and other such things.
These are all in the books that I am now reading.
It satisfies the longings for fiction I am needing.

“Apology” – an original poem by Blake Meyer
Sorry for sending this out a little too late.
I have had some hard weeks, although they were great.
I’m not too busy with homework, but work nonetheless.
I work quite a lot making sweet Alpha dress.
And comics and paintings take a lot of my time,
And cut somewhat into my time for this rhyme.

“The Snot Day” – an original poem by Blake Meyer
Two Weeks ago on the sixteenth of January,
The snow came down and made the southerners wary.
I was on extension when the flakes did come down,
So we left rather early in a van somewhat brown.
We met for society later that night,
And knew that a snow day would only be right.
But alas, it did not come to pass,
As we still had to drudgingly go to class
Through slush and snow and lots of things wet.
But apparently it was nothing to fret.
It was alright though, because my load was easy.
I wore a bright tie that some thought was cheesy.
I wrote myself a note that gave my IQ away.
The typo in my title proudly read “Snot Day.”

“Woody’s Stuff” – an original HAIKU by Blake Meyer
Woody’s stuff is there
All around the room it’s spread
But now he got it

“She’s Got an Arm” – an original poem by Blake Meyer
For my watercolor class we had to try some new things,
And mix things in paint and see what it brings.
We were encouraged to try all kinds of techniques
And see what works and what’s really weak.
So I thought, “Why not try to throw a snowball
And hit a spot of paint on the canvas to sprawl?”
So I dabbed on a spot of crimson red,
Made a snowball, but gave it to Erika instead.
She tried to hit it without any success.
I found that it was tough, I have to confess.
It took many tries, but we finally got it.
But by that time we were both pretty frostbit.
It created a sweet effect, though, and I was glad to show
That small dab of paint all splattered by snow.

OK, just a little break from the lovely poetry to write about some other things. Call it free verse if you like.

It is with a heavy heart that I write that a wonderful friend who I really respected, Jan Stees, is now with the Lord. She is one of the original founders of our church back home in Shannon, and was very highly respected among the church members and the community. She has been there all the years I have been at Shannon Baptist, and I knew her for her godly example that shone through in everything she did. She was a Sunday School teacher and Children’s Church teacher for me, and 2 summers ago when I interned, I got to know her and Bill (her husband) much better. I had many opportunities to help her with her Junior Sunday School class, and I got to see her servant’s heart there. And since I live 45 minutes from church, Bill and Jan let me stay overnight many nights at their house right next to the church. I was able to see that they were just as godly at home as they were in church. Every morning after breakfast, the two of them had their devotions and prayed together. It was wonderful to see such an example of the believers, their wonderful marriage, and their bountiful fruits. For the past year, she was really struggling with cancer. The Lord took her home on Saturday. He saw that her work here on earth is done. Now she is worshipping God face to face in Heaven. We will all really miss her.

Last week for prayer meeting, we did something different. We had Matt Weathers (former student and lifeguard at the Wilds this summer) give a testimony of his teaching English / Missionary work in China. I have to say that he was probably one of the most excited people I’ve ever seen, almost to the point that he looked silly. (But he didn’t care. He was sincerely and passionately excited about serving Christ) It is something I would like to see more in others and myself. This was followed on Sunday by a passionate sermon from a man going to southern California to plant churches. In both guys, their excitement for Christ’s love was contagious. I realized that this is something that is mostly lacking in my life. Sure, I’m excited… some times. I am involved in ministries. I do my devotions. But I am not nearly as excited about serving Christ as these two guys. I definitely don’t show it enough. I don’t really see Christ’s sacrifice for what it really is. This excitement is something that was at a peak after this past summer, and it has gone gradually downward until now. I am now striving to show a renewed passion for Christ and let it permeate my life. It is hard at times, and I fail. But I will strive to keep on going and growing.
If you could keep me accountable to this, that would be great!

OK… Back to Poems!!! Yay!

“They’re Here” – an original poem by Blake Meyer
It was another cold day after the day with the snow.
Alpha met for society and they did not know
That this would be the day that a new fad was born
That looked good on Robbie and Gomer and Bjorn.
I made an announcement: “The BEANIES are here!”
And at that time the room filled with cheer.
“If you want to stay warm and have ladies notice you,
Then grab yourself a Beanie and stop feeling blue.”
They then rushed right over, and bought almost all.
They put them on their heads and were having a ball.
Since then I have seen those tassles in every place.
And beneath those sweet beanies, a smiling face.

“Hairspray” – an original poem by Blake Meyer
There was a time when I worked on a painting
That was a bit strange, but no reason for complainting.
I had to use hairspray to see what it did.
So I brought it to art to try on my grid.
As I was walking I saw many strange looks.
After all, it seemed I should be carrying books.
I saw Joel McAllister who looked down with shock.
I just replied that I was taking it for a walk.
I used it and such, but had no bag to carry,
So I took it in my hand to the library.
There I left Erika for awhile to grab some things for a test,
And decided that going to my close room would be best.
On my way I saw in the coffee shop, Eric, Mike and Tim,
And decided to wave “Hi” with my non-hairspray limb.
I stood by the window and looked inside
And pretended to do my hair, in a mirror, with pride.
In the very end I did finish by making their day
By raising the bottle and giving my hair a good spray.

“Rain” – an original poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
The rain is raining all around,
It falls on field and tree,
It rains on the umbrellas here,
And on the ships at sea.

This is the poem on which I based my new piece:
A painting that shows that the fun in rain will not cease.
It shows men in hats carrying strange yellow umbrellas
That stop the rain from soaking them fellas.
It really is was lot of fun…
One of my favorite paintings that I’ve ever done.
It took many hours of careful brushwork,
But in the end it was worth it, a wonderful perk.
My thanks go to Kara Russell for finding a poem that was better
It was an inspiration for much, including a Newsletter!

“Salisbury Steak” – an original poem by Blake Meyer
Last night I went on dinner date with my wonderful girlfriend
It is the longest on Tuesdays that together we spend.
With delight we noticed that it was Salisbury Steak!
And you’re prolly thinking, “Ewww. Give me a break.”
Why would we be so happy for this amorphous meal?
Well, exactly 52 weeks ago I made Erika a deal.
Well… not EXACTLY, but I poured out my heart
And discussed the possibility that dating was smart.
She laughed at my antics, and agreed with my thoughts…
It was a wonderful night I have thought of a lots.
One thing I remember was the uneaten food on my plate.
I was so nervous that nothing I ate.
What was this concoction that scared anxious Blake?
It was none other than that Salisbury Steak.

“Running in the Rain” – an original poem by Blake Meyer
Also last night I had an urge to go running,
So I changed into clothes that made me looks stunning.
I went downstairs in my warm-ups and shoes
And my first look outside did give me the blues.
It was raining quite hard. It was windy and cold.
I had to make a decision: was I really that bold?
I decided, “Why not? I’ll just quickly dash.”
So I sprinted out the door as cold rain did splash.
I was quickly soaked from my head to my toe
As I finished and came back in the rain cold as snow.

POETIC PICTURES: (these pictures are utter poetry in themselves)


1) This Christmas I finally acquired this picture. Ummm…. Nevermind. I don’t know.


2) This is a picture I took of myself on the snot day.


3) This is my day job… saving the world from some foe


4) This is Erika and me. Is paradise supposed to look this way?

“There Go My New Khakis” – an original poem by Blake Meyer
One last poem before I am done:
You might find this one amusing, but for me not much fun.
Looking back I now laugh, and think it quite strange,
But at the time it was testing, something I would surely change.
I was painting in the classroom, on that momentous day
And hung up my smock as I wandered away.
At the end of the hour I painted some more
And decided it safe if the apron I wore.
When all was done and I had to leave,
I took off my smock and I couldn’t believe
That somehow someone’s red paint came to be
On the back of my smock above my left knee.
As I had moved all around in the large painting room,
I spread that red paint and further sealed my doom.
Now it covered my entire upper lap,
And there was nothing I could do to cover that gap.
I didn’t have time to change into clean pants,
So by going to chapel I was taking a chance.
Many people did stare as I walked right on by.
I really did look like I had blood on my thigh.
I had to sit funny so I wouldn’t stain Joy.
I’m sorry she has to sit next to this bizarre boy.
I made it through chapel and changed by and by.
It’s a very good thing that I’m not very shy.
Those poor khakis will never again prance.
This is the sad story of my ill-fated pants.

THE END

OK, it’s done. You can stop rolling your eyes now. I hope you have a greater appreciation for poetry. I wonder if this bumps my Newsletters up a notch as a finer form of literature… You know… more CULTURED.

maybe not.

-Blake, Poet Extraordinaire