A poem written on my toilet

*This is dedicated to my dear friend, Aikane Manuia

My friend was teasing me the other night--if you cant tell, it was Aikane--on how my blog was about me writing poems while I sat on the toilet. I think his words were, "Why don't you just go on your toilet and write poems!" So I figured to myself, why not grant him his wish, and write a poem as my naked butt sits on my toilet. But I'd like to think that I'm not actually on a toilet, but rather on a stage with my fellow bongo player.

It is night time
The sky has just turned orange
Where am I?
And seriously, why would the night sky be orange?

I'm in a lava field
Way below the field
Because if I were above the lava field, obviously
The sky wouldn't be orange

I'm swimming for the top
I need to escape to where it's blue
My arms are hurting, not from the arduous human paddling
But from these damn lava burns that I'm collecting

But wait, what's that? Could it be blue?
I must have escaped to the top!
Nope, it's just a checkpoint sign that of all colors in the world, it happens to be blue

I'm halfway there, I tell myself
Go, go, go, the cheerleaders cheer me
But the lava keeps pushing me down
Go, go, go, the swim team cheer me as they do cool synchronized leg movements

I have a languid body
I don't think I'll make it this time
We all can't be winners, right?
"Ask LeBron," one swimmer says.

I see a crowd of people yelling
Half of them for me, half of them against me, and weirdly another half yelling at their children
Three halves?
The orchestra from the Titanic is playing the Music when a protagonist is al.most.there.
I've made it

Everyone has disappeared except the noise of a violin
Sooothing, soft sounds grace my earlobe only, not
My whole ear
A man walks up to me

"You've passed level one, now on to level two of Two hundred and thirty-nine levels."
Dun, dun, dun...

It is night time
The sky has just turned orange
Where am I?
And seriously, why would the night sky be orange?



So, yeah, there it is. Great visuals, and solid structure is how I'd describe this elite poem. Also, I'd rate it at about a 9 3/4 out if a 10; could use just a bit more orange I feel like. But if you can take something away from this, shaaaaadap, I don't write poems!


Flushing the toilet with strength,

Loa