Poet Engineer - Jon Koon 10 Year Old Elf - Nathan Robertus
 

There once was an elf named Nathan
Who claimed he could clean without speaking
His sister elves would say
"Brother, there just ain't no way,
Your story contains holes and has started leaking."
  
  There once was a poet named Jon
Whose poems just come out all wrong.
His stories are fables
And he has dusty tables,
Which makes cleaning his desk take so long!
The three little elves are with filled fear,
That Jon’s poems aren’t perfectly clear,
Yet, he lives for thrill,
Of rhyming with skill,
Make way for the poet engineer!

As for the dust that I carefully collect,
I kept it contained as I recollect,
The elves must have tipped
the container ‘til it slipped,
Which let the dust fly, that’s what I would expect.

 
  Jon was a poet; I'll tell you his tale
He installed a computer. It ran like a snail.
He printed some poems while gettin' behind
He should'a been working, but he didn't mind.

"Poetic Engineer is not what "P.E" means.
It means one who profits by staring at screens.
This is some of Jon's tale, but don't get me wrong,
I just ended this poem 'cuz it's gettin' too long.

No poem from the Poet Engineer.  
  What? No more "Jon-ish" poems
Which I can't comprehend?
It means one thing for certain-
I've triumphed in the end!

After all my poetic work
I've performed this easy feat;
And as my final rhyming line:
"With words, I can't be beat!"

Don’t mess with the master,
It will end in disaster,
Clap loud and cheer,
Welcome the return of the Poet Engineer!

Your poems indicate that Jon is a slob,
Who doesn’t do his job,
How does that differ in meaning
From one who writes poems instead of cleaning?

 
  What's this? More Jon-boy sarcasm
Which I don't understand?
I thought I ended it last time.
An explanation, I demand!

I thought I had you cornered.
I thought you couldn't escape.
I thought I was so good at this
And you'd just stand by and gape.

You haven't beat me yet, no sir.
You haven't won at all.
I'll write more poems and get you good.
You won't win; I will not fall.

Please don't inspect my cleaning
I know it's not first rate
I'm just a little kid, you see.
And it is very late!

I have to respond to my nemesis,
He’ll never have a poem as good as this!
My poems are rhymes, not Haiku,
Try not to confuse the two.
Good luck matching this, my friend,
The competition is not about to end!
  
  I knew that my chances were fat;
I could write a poem better than that.
It is an erroneous postulation
That your hope is in restoration,
So to your nemesis take off your hat.
As I write poems week after week,
It’s perfection that I continually seek,
The secret to writing poetry fine,
Is to constantly rhyme line after line,
It’s a challenging endeavor,
That might continue forever!
  
  I will try to make myself clear
That yes, your doom is very near.
But first, I'll show you
What a real poet can do
Instead of completing our struggles here.
As they raced to the floor,
With verses galore,
The Poet Engineer,
Proclaimed with a sneer,
“I’ll write so fast,
You’re sure to be last!”
  
  I'll triumph again if I must,
so you'd better put your brain into thrust.
What you said with a sneer
Just means something mere,
'Cuz you're goin' to fall in the dust!
I’m sure you meant “mirror”,
Instead of “mere”,
‘Cuz, in my rear view,
I’m sure I’ll see you!
Write, write as fast as you can,
You can’t catch me, I’m the poetry man.
 
  I'd like to address your clipart
'Cuz you left out two important parts:
The "Objects in mirror
Are closer than they appear,"
And the car that you drive needs a jump start.
As I head to Italy to slurp on a noodle,
You’ll have time to sit and doodle,
Since you’re closer than you appear,
I’m going to fly away from here,
But don’t count on a victory track,
Because, mark my words, “I’ll be back!”
 
  As you slurp up a noodle,
While staring at the sky,
You'll suddenly look out the window,
And see me flyin' by.

I put my car in 4-Wheel drive,
As you may already know.
So now I'll proclaim the simple truth:
"You're eatn' up my snow."

Poet Engineer in Italy

  
  I found your mysterious dust jar,
In one neglected pile.
Anyway, I won at last,
So I'm writing now with a smile.

With all the rhyming work I did,
You started to feel the heat.
But 'member my famous victory line;
"With words I can't be beat!"

Poet Engineer in Italy
  
  While you're in Italy slurp'n a noodle,
I do have time to sit down and doodle
'cause I'm alrady past there
And you are otta' my hair.
So for the victor clap and cheer,
For I finally beat the Poet Engineer!
It has been fun,
And you may have won,
But you had to cheat me,
In order to beat me,
Instead of shaking my fist,
I propose a new little twist,
First I write a line,
That you have to rhyme,
Then you write a line,
That I have to rhyme,
I think I know the name
Of the winner of this game!
 
 
 

Jon's Line: This is a poem about Nathan the Elf - Oh what a stinker,
Nathan's Rhyme: He liked to put his math on a shelf, but he was a thinker.
Nathan's Line: Nate couldn't be beaten; his fate was erroneous
Jon's Rhyme: His obsession with using big words is idoneous
Jon's line: For someone who believes words speak louder than actions
Nathan's Rhyme: Besides, what's the use of dividing with fractions?
Nathan's Line: Nate beat Jon at poetry, that is for sure.
Jon's Rhyme: His lust for words is like cancer, there is no cure!