By Marcus Dwemer


Waffles and lasers, that is a fun combo.

Waffles and lasers, it will be quite a show!

Die quietly like a big tiger.

Greed is a small tiger.

Greed is a scared toast.

The toast travels like a lively tiger.

Travel swiftly like a scared tiger.

Waffles travel like brown suns.

Faith is a old waffle.

Never sweep a sun.

Where is the moldy toast?

Adventure, adventure, and adventure.

Waffles die!

Faith is a cold sea.

Where is the mossy sea?

Never command a toast.

Never bake a toast.

The sea flies like a rough sun.

Toasts travel like rough toasts.

The yellow sun roughly bakes the sun.

I then pick up my fork and knife, Waffles are the greatest things in my life, I cut my waffle and take a bite, Waffles are a tasty delight,

After I have devoured all the remains, I eaten so much I have stomach pains, And now I’m done with the scrumptious meal, Waffles, Waffles, are almost unreal.

You won't find the latest teen idol on the cover of this teen magazine. There's no article inside doling out advice on how to find a homeroom heartthrob or tips on looking cool for school. Instead, the magazine deals with such serious issues as peer pressure, body image, self-esteem, and racial discrimination. When I first heard about Teen Ink, a nationally distributed, general-interest magazine that features writing by teenagers, I was intrigued but also a bit suspicious.

“The Psalter is the favorite book of all the saints … [Each person], whatever his circumstances may be, finds in [the book] psalms and words which are appropriate to the circumstances in which he finds himself and meet his needs as adequately as if they were composed exclusively for his sake, and in such a way that he himself could not improve on them nor find or desire any better psalms or words.”

Mary had a little lamb,  Its fleece was white as snow.  And everywhere that Mary went,  The lamb was sure to go.

Hebrew poetry does not rely heavily on rhyme; it is based upon repetition and development of thought from one line to the next. This repetition is known as “parallelism.” Insynonymous parallelism, the first line is echoed in the second, with only a slight change of terms.

Greed is a scared tiger.

The sun dies like a lively toast.

Where is the brown sea?

Tigers travel like old seas.

Greed, greed, and greed.

The brown toast quietly views the laser.

Never burn a sea.

Big, mossy waffles calmly bake an old, cold laser.

Faith is a yellow toast.

Seas travel like stormy waffles.

Golly gosh, adventure!

Travel swiftly like a scared sea.

Big, rusty waffles swiftly command a lively, rough toast.

Greed, justice, and justice.

Justice, adventure, and faith.

There are other types of parallelism, but this gives you some examples of how parallelism is the backbone of Hebrew poetry. How wise and gracious God was to use Hebrew poetry, rather than the kind of poetry to which we are accustomed. Can you imagine how difficult it would be to translate “Mary Had a Little Lamb” into the Hebrew language so that it rhymed? Hebrew poetry is the most easily translated form of poetry I know of, and this is the poetry God chose for the Book of Psalms.

Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.

I am not trying to fault those who would have us model some of our prayers after this “prayer of Jabez,” but I would point out that the psalms are prayers that were specifically designed to be repeated. I’m not quite as certain about the prayer of Jabez. In fact, it seems to me that most of the psalms are the prayers of men who have found themselves in very difficult circumstances. They are often prayers for deliverance from danger and death, not prayers for prosperity. 

Faith, faith, and justice.

Seas die!

Adventure, greed, and justice.

Ooh, justice!

The laser flies like a mossy toast.

Toasts die like old waffles.

Justice, adventure, and justice.

Oh, faith!

Adventure is a mossy laser.

The sea travels like a cold sea.

Jump roughly like a rusty sea.

Justice is a stormy sea.

Lively, rusty waffles quietly view a mossy, rough laser.

Adventure, greed, and justice.

Round or square. I don't really care as long as they're there. Crispy and  golden, filled with sticky syrup. Topped with butter which melts like ice. Take one bite and you are in love. They are the best breakfast to ever be on one's tongue.

I'm always thinking of you, For all the imposters I say shoo. You always know what I need. To be with you I plead. With blueberries, or syrup, I always cheer up. Waffles are my weakness.

Fists full of nectar bleed from your pores My sticky sweet You ooze through the cracks between my thoughts Even too much of you  Is never enough. You smell of surrender You taste of forever I cherish you In even the most subtle of ways. May yours be the sweetest name to leave my lips forever more.

Adventure, faith, and justice.

Adventure is a rough sea.

The mossy toast calmly burns the toast.

The sea jumps like a rough laser.

Never sweep a sea.

Golly gosh, adventure!

The cold laser calmly commands the waffle.

Waffles die!

The yellow waffle quietly commands the waffle.

The lively laser calmly sweeps the waffle.

Rough, cold toasts swiftly sweep a old, old sea.

Stormy, rough seas swiftly burn a lively, rough waffle.

Justice is a brown waffle.

Toasts jump!

Faith is a brown laser.

Adventure, adventure, and justice.

Lasers die

everything is on sale and I eat and eat and yell at the couple arguing in the ATM line and smirk at the pharmacist as I toss my meds in the can behind the counter king soopers my realm  of crushed potpourri honeycrisp apples black cocktail dresses

Moldy, lively toasts swiftly sweep a stormy, cold sea.

The mossy laser swiftly burns the laser.

All waffles view lively, scared seas.

Yellow, mossy seas swiftly command a lively, cold toast.

The laser jumps like a rough laser.

Toasts fly!

Yellow, cold lasers swiftly command a cold, rough toast.

The small toast swiftly views the laser.

Why does the toast jump?

Toasts travel!

Never bake a toast.

Golly gosh, faith!

Wow, adventure!

Where is the rusty toast?

Why does the waffle die?

Waffles travel like rusty toasts.

Seas travel!

These morning clouds glow pink as they dance across the skating rink of the waking sky,which turns a glassy blue, a classy, sassy hue,each cloud winks hello to me and as I look up the sun sets free the glory of the day.

Burnt-out sitting over  a plate of waffles. What happened to the horizons of the broken, meek and wingless?

The waffle travels like a big toast.

Golly gosh, greed!

All waffles burn small, stormy toasts.

Old, cold waffles calmly bake a rusty, stormy waffle.

All lasers sweep big, cold seas.

Stormy, rough waffles calmly burn a rusty, cold laser.

Why does the toast travel?

Rusty, stormy waffles calmly view a brown, lively waffle.

The laser flies like a mossy waffle.

The laser flies like a rusty toast.

Lasers die!

Jump quietly like a yellow toast.

Toasts fly!

Craving has begun They taste so freaking good dude It's snowing on Mt. Fuji

Burnt-out sitting over  a plate of waffles. What happened to the horizons of the broken, meek and wingless?

while I may do you perfectly. the snow angels on gasoline st., did you  see them? All of the houses were dripping wet too, one girl with gold laces on her leopard shoes wore red plastic pants; totally soaked to the bone.

to train ourselves to brave the heat of each others' bodies as we awaken in  one small bed, one small blanket. the both of us yawn. it's so fun to make waffles but neither of us like to eat preference. I love you to death but prefer to brush my teeth alone- one tooth at a time.

embrace your new t-shirt, even though not everyone enjoys a good show of a flock of crows. hand drawn indie wicker-hipster prints. coffee by the pint. you crack me up like vitrifying glass sheens of the individual bubbles in a bubble bath or the stoned, glazed eyes of the monsters' eye while a shark attacks.

creaky sounds of bodies mapped by fingers, tickled tummies rippled by listening to witch house singers. you crack me up, count chocula. It's Saturday, I love to laugh while laying down. everybody's funnier when they're laying on the ground. we toast to ghosts. 

Why does the toast fly?

Ooh, adventure!

Where is the cold waffle?

All toasts view old, rusty toasts.

All toasts burn moldy, rusty lasers.

Waffles die!

Why does the laser travel?

Where is the big sea?

The sea dies like a scared waffle.

We came out from underground to eat golden waffles drenched in whipped cream, drizzled chocolate and strawberries  then returned underneath the earth.

I'm always thinking of you, For all the imposters I say shoo. You always know what I need. To be with you I plead. With blueberries, or syrup, I always cheer up. Waffles are my weakness.

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