Bad Tuba Poetry

From the “Tuba Lady“, at Interact comes this post on her blog about a tuba poem she wrote when she was young. Her self-criticism is in parentheses:

My tuba, my tuba, I really love my tuba (gosh, that’s such an original way to start)

It came with me from Florida, I’d take it to Aruba (well, I guess I didn’t want to go to Cuba)

It’s big and shiny and really, kinda heavy (true, albeit a stupid line)

I think they musta made it out of a ‘57 Chevy! (not even close to clever)

I’ve had it since I was a girl of just eleven (I might have been 13, but I needed 11 for the next line’s rhyme)

Do you think God will let me bring it all the way to heaven? (I did mention it was a church talent show)

Mom and Dad found it in a little music store (true)

They paid $300, but I would have paid much more (not true, I didn’t have any money then)

It had dents and scratches, but played a tune just fine (it was me that was bad, not the equipment)

From the minute that I saw it, I knew it would be mine (I don’t think I saw it until they bought it and it was no return, no exchange, so we had to keep it)

I’ve played it in churches, I’ve played it in bars (luckily not at the same time)

I’m sure my neighbors wish, I’d only play it on Mars (this is so sad)

I’ve played it for money and I’ve played it for free (you can guess which one happens more often)

I’ve played it for others, but mostly just for me (obviously)

I’ve played concerts and solos, in and out of doors (noise ordinances be darned)

I’ve played it in competitions and received the judge’s scores (sympathy more like)

It’s made from silver and some other nickel ore (it could be lead, that would explain the brain damage that occurred before I wrote this)

I’d give more detailed info, but I don’t know any more (heard of the internet?)

It just plays oompah, oompah to the really untrained ear (is that how you spell oompah and shouldn’t I know?)

But to me it plays beautiful sounds that I really love to hear (I can’t hear anything when I play, it’s too loud)

I’ve played the clarinet, the flute and saxophone, (none of these are any better)

I’ve played bagpipes and cello, and the slide trombone (you haven’t heard anything yet)

None can compare to the joy, that I often receive (solitary joy, everybody else leaves the room)

from all my tuba playing, a gift from God I believe (give thanks, always – that I don’t live in your neighborhood)

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One Response to Bad Tuba Poetry

  1. Margie says:

    I loved the poem an the comments. That’s the way it is!

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