Dec 01
Hannah Campbell's picture

Love Wool

She sheared off the wool, 
with hands tender and gentle.
She spun the wool,
intermingling it with heart-strength.
She knit a green sweater,
laced the strings with her hopes.
She knit thick woolen socks,
blessed it with her bossom warmth.
She dyed a hair ribbon,
blasted colors of opportunity.

Then she cast them on her daughter,
who donned her sweater like armor
and her socks like her base
and she tied up her hair,
ready for the battle
of life.

She was protected by love.



 
Nov 24
Hannah Campbell's picture

Joyella's Galactic Space Suit

          Joyella was furious. Her Galactic Space Suit that she had just purchosed had been deflated right after she left the mall, and it had cost her a lot of money. Its price was ridiculous. God, those people were rude in there, she thought. 
 

          An hour later after hopping onto a Space Metro bus, she got off to find it was sprinkling down feathers, which ruined the suit even more. "No!" she growled, covering it with her jacket. "I have to return it after I've sewed it back together." she yowled to the feather-rain.
          Well, it didn't listen to Joyella's complaints, so lo and behold the suit was ruined. "Ugh," she whined, holding it out in front of her after she had gotten off the bus. She stood in the middle of the road, grumping for about five minutes. "Wasted all that money. All that money. . ." She tsked, shaking her head and looking at the rip.
Nov 21
poem 0 comments challenge: Furious
Hannah Campbell's picture

Adults vs. Children

Sometimes I feel like children 
are an entirely different race from adults.

Whereas children are compassionate, 
adults are selfish.
When children are shy,
adults are brutal

and vicious. 

When I am feeling weepy,
they keep on pushing so I
break. 
Repeatedly,
but I must hide my silent angry tears behind a locked door
so they don't see it.

So the child
can protect their parent.

Children dream of things, 
adults are stingy (money).

When a child has an opinion
or does something wrong

it is a sin,
and must not be forgiven until
they have been punished by the utmost.

Children give respect when they feel it,
adults demand it. 

Because they are old and wise.

(But stupid and jealous and small-minded.)

Life moves on, though!
Nov 20
Hannah Campbell's picture

Street Song of People - Ekphrastic Poem

I originally created this poem back in seventh grade around May-June, and figured I could match it up to the soundtrack of footsteps.

Runners running. . .

and panting. . .

And their heart repeat. . .

Echoes. . .

the beat. . .

of their feet. . .

on the street. . .
Men. In. Suits. And. Ties.

Trudge. Strict. In. Line.

Bear. Heav. Y.  Brief. Cases.

Don. Hats. That. Say.

“Stay. A. Way. From. Me”

andacyclerashadowsmoothasnightflowsroundandroundandroundcatchingupcatchingcatchingup
willpassaheadandkeepcyclingandcyclingandcyclingandcyclingandcyclingandcyclingandcycling

Nov 20
Hannah Campbell's picture

A Very Short Synopsis of How The Jungle Influenced the PFD Act of 1906

The Pure Food and Drug Act of 1906 was influenced almost entirely by a book called The Jungle. In The Jungle, it explained the various processes of preparing and packaging meat in mass-manufacturing plants. It also exposed how the government would form pacts with the businesses, not actually protecting the people from eating the harmful meat. For starters, much of the meat that had been used had been contaminated by several different diseases/illnesses, including boils and tuberculosis. Tuberculosis can also pass onto humans, which could have been a probable cause of the TB plagues of the late 19th century. Additionally, the working conditions were horrendous, possibly the worst in America out of all the jobs and times. The workers had to work almost the entire day, they were paid barely anything, and the jobs were extremely dangerous and would end up with people losing hands or fingers and also getting various diseases.
Nov 16
Hannah Campbell's picture

Noises at Night and Their Effect On Children

Rap rap rap. 
on the windowsill.

I shift to the otherside and pull up the comforter.

Rap rap rap.
I hear it again.

I become paralyzed with fear.

Rap rap rap.
mixed with the gurgling of rain water.

My heart beats faster than a buttefly in a jar.

Rap rap rap. 
One more time, and I'll get my parents.

Please don't, please don't knock.

Rap rap rap.
I can't get up, it will get me.

Things flashing by in my mind; I love life.

Rap rap rap.
I tear the covers up and run into my parents' room.

My Dad comes in and we wait for the systematic knocking.

Rap rap rap.
But now that we turned the fan off to hear better, we realize

it's just the humidifier. 

 
Nov 16
Hannah Campbell's picture

War Fever

I have a feverand  I feelshaky and unsta
ble andmylegs feel
very weak and my heart is cold and numb

my hands andthighsaretr embling 
and mybreathing'sweird and my
teeth chatter. but it's not a fever ofsickness


buta fever of painandconfusion
a war fever,
she says.

yougetit when a ll your little boys
have grownup and goneoff to
havetheir heads blown off their bodies.
Nov 12
Hannah Campbell's picture

Flying Crow - Ottava Rima poem

I saw a crow take to the sky, free and wild
and wings so wide, ashen-black, tasting the breeze
on a day so clear, like forest streams, cold and mild.
I ran below chasing, with just a slight wheeze
because I, young, quiet, shy, mellow, a small child 
have short legs, pale and unstable, with weak knees.
But my bright-eyed friend can soar, glide unburdened;
maybe, just one day, her wings to me she'll lend.
 
Nov 12
poem 0 comments challenge: Emotion
Hannah Campbell's picture

Goodbye - Cento Poem

And, in parting from you now,
I'm nobody! Who are you? 
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)!
and you were the only one there to hear —
My mouth is a fire escape.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air:
free bird leaps on the back of the wind
And though I oft have passed them by:
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Each star is a mirror reflecting the truth inside you.

 
Nov 11
Hannah Campbell's picture

Our Generation - Cento Poem

Like tunnels in a labyrinth,
Through caverns measureless to man,
Into the mouth of Hell--
How few! yet how they creep

To-morrow will be dying:
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical,        
 and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart.

If I should die, think only this of me: 
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

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