So what’s this Plagiarism Made Practical all about?
If you decide to plagiarize a poem from this book, you should be prepared to explain what it means or why and how you wrote it. That’s where this book becomes a valuable tool.
The author’s explanation immediately follows the poem.
This book will make you look Brilliant!
Here's a poem that shows you that you can have fun
reading, reciting, and or even writing poems.
My Cows Glow in the Dark
A farmer's life is a simple life
My dogs, my John Deere and my plows-
A hundred acres of God's good earth
And twenty-five dairy cows.
Ain't nothin' more excitin 'round here
Than bringin' in good crops.
But lately since that one
strange night
The excitement never stops.
All I know is I woke up that night
When my dogs began to bark.
Now my farm's the talk of the county
'Cause my cows glow in the dark!
I don't know what to make of it.
'Cause my cows glow in the dark!
Some people think it's the toxic waste
from the water in Potter's Creek.
Some people think the power plant
Done sprung a nuclear leak.
Some say the hole in the ozone
is suckin' the blood cells from them.
Or it’s them aliens that gave a space ship ride
to crazy Uncle Clem.
I don’t know what gives them that strange glow.
This story ain't no lark.
My cows glow in the dark!
The people stop and say,
"They's somethin' special in the hay.“
I smile and say "No way.“
My cows glow in the dark!
My cows glow in the dark!
Oh, no, no no, no, no, no, no,
I ain't puttin' on some fake freak show.
They’s one thing I really know
My cows glow in the dark!
My cows glow in the dark!
My Cows Glow in the Dark
While watching a science fiction movie on TV one night, I heard a line about something “glowing in the dark.”
The next show I watched included farmers, cows, rustlers, cowboys, and obviously, a hero.
I decided to have some fun and imagine a crazy situation that would result if both programs came together.
So, I used the idea of something glowing in the dark and imagined the uproar it would cause if cows glowed in the dark.
What would the farmers be thinking?
How would they explain this to the town folk?
As this book will reveal, writing and reading poems can and should be fun or at least enjoyable.
Here's a poem that shows you that you can be a romantic.
This love poem shows the softer, more loving side of you.
Measure of Love
Count the leaves on the summer trees,
Count the fish in the Seven Seas.
Count the stars on a clear moon-lit night,
Count the birds in their daily flight.
Count the tears shed for untrue love,
Count the clouds in the heavens above.
Count the flowers in splendid array,
Count the words that are said each day.
Count the trees in the forest so green,
Count the angels in God’s kingdom
supreme.
Count the dead soldiers of all the wars,
Count the grains of sand on the blue
ocean shores.
Count the people since Adam and Eve’s
fall.
Count the faithful who've answered
God's call.
Multiply by infinity, and you will get
The amount of love I have for you, my pet.
Measure of Love
MEASURE OF LOVE is one of those poems you read slowly and romantically to your lover while sitting under a tall, shady tree during the late spring, early summer or early fall.
Immediately after reading it, pause for a few seconds to let the brilliance of your poetic mind linger and then immediately jump up and shout “Hey, look over there, a deer! (or a bear or a flying saucer!)
Say anything, just as long as you distract your lovers attention away from the words and meaning of the poem.
While listening to you recite the poem, your lover will be completely enthralled at how much the words are saying you love that person.
The danger in letting your lover ponder too much or too long on the words is that the poem really says nothing at all.
I mean, how much true love can you relate to by adding up leaves and fish and flowers and sand?
I call this an Occasional poem. You can use it on a special occasion. After reading it and its explanation, you will see why.
The Crime
THE CRIME
The eyes of all my ancestors
Reprimand me before the fact
The honor of my family name
Depended on this act
The guilt of crime, the hidden shame
The awful fear of being caught
I 'm not sure I have the nerve
To live with something hot
It's done, I'm gone, but I now dread
To hear my conscience howl.
Who cares, yippie! I just ripped off
My first Holiday Inn Towel.
The Crime
Many times, poems become a celebration or remembrance of a special occasion.
Is not the theft of your first Holiday Inn towel a “special occasion”?
By the way, if you recite this poem for the first time at a party,look around to see who is laughing or smiling.
Those are the ones who are guilty of “The Crime.”
Those not smiling probably think those towels are for drying one's body after a bath or shower.
Haiku
This type of poem contains only three lines. The first contains only five syllables; the second seven syllables; the third five syllables
Big Number Seven
Big Number Seven
Launches missiles on target
Bringing victory.
Big Number Seven
If you are an avid sports fan, you might relate to this poem.
If you are not a sports fan, you might think this poem refers to the number seven cannon in some war.
And, if you are not an avid sports fan, you probably can create a better interpretation of this poem than a sports fan can.
If you are a Pittsburgh Steelers fan, you immediately think of Ben Roethlisberger.
However, if you’re a Denver Broncos fan, you think of John Elway.
Cincinnati Bengal fans will insist this describes Boomer Esaison.
In Washington, they remember Joe Theismann; Buffalo recalls Doug Flutie.
Wait!
Hockey fans will tell you Big Number Seven was Phil Esposito’s number or Paul Coffey’s number in Edmonton.
To me, Big Number Seven can only mean Mickey Mantle.
If you’re a gaming fan, you might have tried to destroy Silo 7.
The same words can paint such vivid, different pictures.
