Monday, November 29, 2010

edit

You made faces across the dinner table
I almost spit out my food
You showed me your yugioh cards
and taught me how dual
You cupped your hand over your mouth
when you had something to say
You hid our study books
so that we could just play
We roamed the grocery store as if we were on a safari
hunting for samples and hiding between aisles
We peaked around corners and flashed each other smiles
You told me your crush
or what girl caught your eye
Those days were fun but now your a little shy

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Variation of Shakespearean Sonnet

Thanksgiving day is coming soon
a time to join with family and have a feast
We will all meet to eat around noon
and my uncles will watch football and rage of The Beast
Others suggest we go see a priest
But with the cold weather around i only think of June
How fun it would be if a boat was leased
As I gaze out the window to see the fall leaves blow
i smile as i hear the conversation flow
As i turn around my cousin jumps up into my chair
And with a playful smile i tickle her toe
Giggling she climbs down and asks if ill braid her hair
I braid the hair down her back and adorn her with jewels
And just as i finnish the oven dings and my mouth drools



Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Animal Poem

Koala
my back aches
and the wind tousles my hair
the young ones make racket down below me
disturbing my peace
just me and my bamboo
its all i need

Lion
I take a deep breath and puff my chest out
flex the muscles in my shoulders and feel the power of my legs beneath me
stretching, not a cat but a beast
chin up, i stroll out of my den
gazing upon my territory
I let a roar of satisfaction

You poem

You would make faces at me across the dinner table
making me almost spit out my food
You would show me your yugioh cards
and teach me how dual
You would cup your hand over your mouth
when you had something to say
You would hide our study books
so that we could just play
We roamed the grocery store as if we were on a safari
hunting for samples and hiding between aisles
You would tell me your crush
or what girl had caught your eye
Those days were fun but now your a little shy

Monday, November 15, 2010

Story Poem

Time to Grow up

fists fly
anger rages around them
red contorted faces glaring
the girl sits alone
sitting on a step
perched above the scene
past her bedtime
peering through the stair railing
her little hands clutch the iron poles and her face presses against them
She watches their chests heave in frustration and bodies dance wildly
Sputtering and spitting each other
Their voices crawling up to her spot on the stairs
profane words slither into her soft pink ears
Saying things they will later regret
a veil of innocence is pushed aside
time to grow up


Friday, November 12, 2010

Billy Collins REMAKE

This poem will be about a literal poem like the billy Collins poem i posted earlier.

dancing across the page
the pen full of ideas
dancing faster and faster with the sudden burst of thoughts
a hand sweeps across the page
admiring eyes take in work
from one hand to another its given to the world
sometimes she was gentle
cooing over the lines
other times she was harsh
ripping the seams
taking out all the meaning it once had inside

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

"as i write I create myself again and again"-Joy Harjo

I think im a willow
Seemingly sad at times but peaceful and comforting over all
Then the wind comes
it comes fast and cold
my long fluid branches rattle
and thrash around in the wind
the rain comes
the assault is over
i am really a birch
small and bare
thin trunk
stabilized on either side with chains wrapped around me and nailed to the side
in hope that one day i will grow to be big and branchy

Monday, November 8, 2010

A poem i like

Introduction to Poetry

Billy Collins

I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slide

or press an ear against its hive.

I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,

or walk inside the poem's room
and feel the walls for a light switch.

I want them to waterski
across the surface of a poem
waving at the author's name on the shore.

But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope
and torture a confession out of it.

They begin beating it with a hose
to find out what it really means.



I love this poem because of the truth and creativity in it. The way the author describes people analyzing the poem is very cool and i like that new perspective. The whole poem gives a new perspective of poetry.


Friday, November 5, 2010

nothing drought horror blanket

upon the fields we gazed
the vast stretch of land
dried up with the drought
tall grasses deadened
I walk to the fields
the dry lifeless plants crunch under my feet
I look back at the house i once new
turned around and with a indifferent expression proceeded on my journey.


It had been left out from my younger sisters birthday party
Last week our parents threw her a party in the backyard
Refusing to go anywhere without it
she dragged that pale blue blanket around the whole time
when the clown finally arrived she had dropped it and ran over to see his tricks
now weeks later it sits out there now
covered in dew and gnats
a sickening odor of old milk protruding from it
I pick it up
its heavy and soaking wet
the cheap polyester is hardened and rough
I take a deep breath
do my best to hold it with two fingers
and make my way to the laundry room

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Poem game

Anger
it doesn't regulate
I enumerate,
suffering, broken inside me
It yanks fury instilled within me
I pretend to be tolerably indiffrent
but it deems a strange affect upon me
torment clearly within

Happiness
She was practically skipping
Delicate ladybugs communicated colloquial sayings
Dragonflies fabricated myths
She was adrift in a panorama of pretend.

Confusion
Slender curves meant for me
broken for the price of discrimination
my indifference torments whatever it doesn't victimize.
is it that simple






Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Poems

1st: She deemed the voyage sordid
The deadpanned crew, tormented by the autonomy of the voyage
Utilizing the paradox of being adrift with the tempestuous sea
he assured her , enumerating reasons with his vulgar astonishment
Her delicate slender mouth instilled in fury.
poem #2
The faithful queen, blinded by summertime sparks. Mystique imperfections, dust upon her angelic face. Passion's glaring voice, mysterious visions censor fellowship.
Invisible metamorphosis visions under a wondrous willow