Posts
-
I'm Here!
Author's Note: This poem was actually inspired by Emily Dickinson's poem, "I'm Nobody! Who Are You?" I was experimenting with rhyming schemes, and then I read Emily Dickinson's poem.
-
I'm Here!
Context: There is a tiny mouse in the barn. He used to be a beloved pet to the farmer’s daughter, but she grew up and left. Soon, the mouse was forgotten about, yet each day, he came for a block of cheese, hoping someone would remember.
-
The NightSky
Author Bio: I love the Nightsky. It’s beautiful. There are so many analogies and stories and sights that all come with that one image or word of the night sky. So I decided to explore it and create the poem, NightSky. Enjoy!
-
The Sun:
The golden, bright, vibrant sun,shines throughout the day.
It shines brightly on the first day of school.
-
The Old Bench
She runs down the path to the lake by her old school.
Every day she comes there, for one reason.
To see something.
A bench...it stands by the lake.
Serene and frail.
-
What Do I Think
I want to live life without flaws.
More specifically, I want to live life without any regrets.
When I was five, I used to look up to my sister.
I still do.
Loves
-
A tribute to the observer.
Although I’d likely consider myself shy and coy,
Occasionally withdrawn from the crowd,
There are many facets of an observer.
For one,The ultimate observer can detect feigned emotion,
-
I believe in art.
though honorable and necessary,
i fail to recognize the emotion and fervor within technology and maths.
of course, it is possible one feels emotional and passionate for those pursuits,
-
Letter to a Stranger I Know Well
You came to me in a dream last night, as curious and full of life as the day I met you on the playground.
It was the first week of preschool and I had no friends, mostly because I chose not to.
-
Dancing in the Airport
“And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.”
— Friedrich NietzscheI saw someone
In the airport.
-
january
it's cold
the mornings freeze our words to our lips as we pore
over homework, plastic boxes of brightly dyed sugar cereal
waiting for february. it's gray
we haven't gone out for recess in forever, summer sun
-
the sweetest
I wonder what kind of mind lies behind those big brown eyes
behind her laugh, of which makes the sweetest souls swoon,
behind her smile, infectious and sugar sweet.
yet through it all,