I was wondering if anyone wanted to share some of the poetry they've written, whether it was for English in the past couple of years or just for yourself. If you want you can give a brief explanation, or you could just leave it up for interpretation.
I'll start off, I guess. This poem is about my step dad's mother.
Dissecting Dolly
Withering wrinkles
shield her face.
If
I could count them
I would be a math
star.
For show-and-tell
in social studies,
she would re-enact
the American Revolution
in detailed description.
In science,
I could dissect her frown lines.
Chemical creations
dripping
from her dress.
She shall not
come to English
because
if she did,
she might read
this poem.
"Tiger, Tiger.." ( anyone know that poem?)
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4 comments:
This is really good steph. I like it, I find it very witty, and well thought out. The only part I don't really get is the title, but something can be called anything for whatever the reason.
Well since I replied, and no ones been writing in here I guess I'll share something.
Dim Light
This room was once full of
Memories
Sad one
Happy ones
Old ones
But the ones I want the most
Are of her
Her smile lighting up this room
Making it seem like paradise
But now
It has been forgotten
Collecting dust
As dim light
Pours through the window
And shows me what once was
Sorry this is so long, but I got the urge to share another.
Prowler
It was his birthday
He tore at the paper with so much excitement
A truck!
Shiny and new
And still in the box
He brought it to me
Pleaded me to help him open it
I pulled it out and handed it to him
He took it gleefully
And started to make those truck noises
I got up and left the room for a second
Back in the room
I looked around
He was gone
The shiny new truck in the middle of the room
Alone
Then, the box
All on its own
Moved
Right across the hardwood floor
and straight in my direction
With a smile on his face
He jumped out
Laughing
Back in the box
He crawled to the kitchen
Looking for his next victim
The title is a reference to her name (which is Dolly).
And I like those poems :) I really like the where the lines end, especially in the last poem when "moved" is all on its own, just like the box.
Okay I get it now, thank you for clarifying that.
Okay, so I wrote this in grade seven.
Mourners
I stand at a corner,
staring dreamily toward the rushing crowds.
People gather at a church-mourners.
their faces show the sadness to match the menacing clouds.
The rain begins to fall,
upon their sad eyes,
Still they do not call,
or shout to god in the skies.
They stand in silent thought,
Waiting for the storm to clear.
Their hearts are so fraught,
but their eyes have no more tears.
And this one is more recent.
Follow, follow, foolish children.
Eyes blind to the pain.
Follow, follow, foolish children.
Ignorant minds, lazy souls.
Follow, follow, stupid children.
Stop waisting your time!
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