Why oh why?

Question

Why oh why am I confused?
So many names for so few people.
Who is who?
Which name is which face?
Who's the real real Real Penfold?
How many names does the Anti-Christ have?
I'm glad I'm only me,
Little Cinnamon.

LOL ... I know what a poem is. I'm an English Major, desperately in love with poetry, and a good poet. This was just a silly piece actually meant for certain Y!Users with whom I communicate and who, I believe, have sevral names each that I often believe to be multiple people.

*holds up her miltary sword and taps tomtom on each shoulder* By the power vested in me by the Great Spice Rack, I dub thee Sir BobBob, Knight of the Herbs.

Answer 1

Cinnamon tree
Bark's very spicy
French Toast sprinkles
Curry Sauces
Shakes from a bottle
Floats like snowflakes
Makes for smiling
Apple Strudel
All of the fellas'
Camp by her window
Changing masks to find her favor

Answer 2

this is not a poem - this is just random thoughts written down.

imagine you are going to capture this moment and you are in the back with a camera, but instead of a camera you are going to capture that moment using words - that's what a poem is. A poem isn't pouring out all your feelings or capturing all your random thoughts, that makes no sense, even though actually your attempt did make sense. but if I were you I'd focus on the last two lines - exploring your uniqueness and then try to take a picture of your uniqueness using words, and try to imagine what your uniqueness looks like. Then you have a poem. But what you are doing here isn't a poem. It's just not. Not in my mind.
Do you see what I mean?

Answer 3

Well little Cinnamon, so many engagements , such little time. so im gonna give you a poem

Charlie Freak
Charlie freak had just two things to call his own
two weighed ounces, one of gold , one of precious stones
on the street he spies me , I hear him hail
in a circle of frozen space , he told his tale
the poor kid he over did it , he embraced a spreading haze
and inside his poor body died in 15 ways
in a crowd out on the street I ran to see
plastic tag on his feet read D.O.A
He had bought things he could not own
if I knew the way my friend i would take you home

pbn

Frankie and Albert
Frankie and Albert were sweet hearts, oh how they could love
bound to love one another
under the stars above
he was her man but he was doin her wrong
Frankie went down to the barroom to get herself a glass of beer
she said, hey bartender has my lovin man been here
the bartender said miss Frankie ,mam I cant tell you no lies
he left here bout an hour ago with that hussie called Nelly Bly
it was your man and he was doin you wrong
and there she was Frankie burst into the room
and from underneath her read kamono her gun went boom boom boom
it was her man and he was doin her wrong
Frankie screamed oh no, oh no what have I done
I done shot the man I love, with a colt 41
it was my man ,he was doin me wrong
soon the sheriff came rollin up the trail
I gotta take you miss Frankie and put you in that county jail
he was your man and he was doin you wrong
Frankie and Albert were sweethearts oh how they could love
they were bound to love one another under the stars above
it was her man and he was doing her wrong.

pbn

i came up with this after hearing about 4 hours of old blues

love , pbn

Answer 4

Hmm--well if you take the view of a partial preterist--Nero was the Antichrist, and what we know is...oh, wait this is the poetry section...I'm glad you're only you too, I think the real cinnamon, and the really, real cinnamon would make life too confusing for me.

Answer 5

What`s worse someone is Yoinking all the Polish answers. Here`s mine:
Hmmski--well if you take the view of a partial preterist--Neroski was the Antichristovich, and what we know is...oh, wait this is the poetry sectionski...I'm glad you're only you too, I think the real cinnamonski, and the really, real cinnamonovitch would make life too confusing for meski.

Answer 6

As an old soldier, I salute you Major English...

I need a new face,
can you spare a visage, sister ?

TD !!! help !!!, Pan Pendfolski is yoinking my chain, man...
spiritus (C2H5OH) is indeed sanctus...
you stay away from this Penfold... this is between Major Cinnamon and me...
Thank you Major English, I am relieved, I was afraid it would be BoobBoob...
I am ready to serve, as soon as I get rid of them bees...

Yo!!! DB...
this bud's for you:

olive branch beckons
Basho pisses on my head
beer of paradise...

kupa wariatow !!!

Answer 7

The anit christ will have as many as he can have to fool the people into believing in him. or it. or what ever it is at the point of its destruction. Ive written a poem about this very thing in a way.. guess I should put it on here , but it is way too long.. people wouldn t believe it anyways, I find it funny that they believe in evil but not God. stranger things happen. and they are strange. Im glad I am me.. and only the me I can be.

Answer 8

This is like a though process, like you took your thoughts and wrote them down , like one thing leads to another kind of thing, oh that's a fun game to play ya' know where someone says a word and the other blurts out the first thing that comes to mind--anyway it different and i like different ;)
keep it up! It the little diddy's that make the world go round!

Answer 9

Obviously impromptu, but well structured for all that. I'm going to dig back for your other ones--I'll bet they're good.

Answer 10

My oh my
I'm so bemused
So many questions to answer
Which one to choose?
What about a poem
that has no purpose
but to confuse
me too?