Only Together

Here's the poem that got me first in Reflections at the school level...we'll see how it does at the counsel and region levels. The theme was "Together We Can" so I decided to bring in objects that not only worked together to do something, but that could only do it when together. It kinda turned out to be a love poem, which isn't what I had intended, but it's a nice addition. Tell me what you think.

Only Together

You’ll be the wind and I’ll be the sail.
Faced with waves tough and vast, we’ll prevail.
Pointless when alone, we’ll join to save the day.
I’ll stand up strong and you’ll choose the way.
We’ll see our captives to their destination,
Revel in the travelers’ show of fascination.
Steering this vessel back toward the land?
Together we can.

You’ll be the paper and I’ll be the pen.
We’ll brave the ideas of countless great men.
Dull when alone, we’ll create at the touch.
I’ll dance and you’ll hold letters and such.
We’ll laugh at thoughts seen in his face,
Watch in amazement as she fills the space.
Enabling their work to reach every fan?
Together we can.

You’ll be the left hand and I’ll be the right.
Bouncing on many keys, we’ll take flight.
Boring when alone, we’ll move side by side.
I’ll play treble and in bass, you’ll confide.
We’ll rejoice in any acclaim, even mere,
Wonder at every gasp, every tear.
Bringing forth the skill of this man?
Together we can.

You’ll be the fuel and I’ll be the spark.
Where once there was nothing, we’ll leave our hot mark.
Useless when alone, we’ll keep warmth flowing.
I’ll start the flames and you’ll keep them going.
We’ll delight in the joyous tunes that are sung,
Suppress a smile when the s’mores burn a tongue.
Pointing out survivors to eyes that scan?
Together we can.

You’ll be the girl and I’ll be the guy.
We’ll fall for each other and never ask why.
Hopeless when alone, we’ll seize a great love.
I’ll fight the world below while you search above.
We’ll keep hope alive and in fear, never cower,
Barely fathom the extent of two hearts’ power.
Inspiring happiness through all life’s span?
We can,
But only when we’re together.

I Saw Myself

This is my best effort poem. The choice I had to do what I wanted resulted in a pretty unique pattern and message. I like this one...tell me what you think.

I Saw Myself

I saw myself on a city street
I saw the people chat and hurry their feet
They were all so focused on the time of the day
I tried to get their attention but they had nothing to say
They only walked past with somewhere to be
They didn’t see me

I saw myself in a parking lot
I saw the people and the things they had bought
They were all so focused on finding their cars
I tried to get their attention but no meeting was ours
They only fumbled with their lock and key
They didn’t see me

I saw myself in a limousine
I saw the people basking in the rare scene
They were all so focused on the glamour and poise
I tried to get their attention but they didn’t notice my noise
They only delighted themselves with endless glee
They didn’t see me

I saw myself in the driver’s seat
I saw a person with a smile so sweet
She was so focused on the perfect soft tune
I gained her attention with the sounds that were strewn
She only turned her head left to some degree
She saw me

That makes two of us

I See You

For this poem, we were to take a picture of ourselves from our younger years and basically speak to it and offer advice and what not. Here's what I came up with. Don't laugh too much at the photo...



I see you
With that goofy grin,
That tendency to fall into the spotlight,
A one man show
Still trying to decide
What his signature act will be.
I know where you come from,
But I have no idea where you’re going.
I know it’s somewhere amazing.
Some bits of advice:
Expand your cast.
Bring along the ones
Who will improve your performance.
Take some risks.
Try new things
Or your ratings will plummet
And so will your profit.
Above all:
Keep that smile Kyle.
The fans love that stuff.

Haikus

So for one poetry assignment I had to write a group of makeshift haikus. I say makeshift because I kind of mutilated the Haiku syllable pattern. The syllables for the lines are supposed to go 5-7-5 and I did 7-5-7. Let's just say I did it on purpose for creative effect. :)

A raindrop on the smooth leaf
It hangs on the edge
Will it never let it go?

Dark clouds taunt us from above
I shiver alone
But together, we stay warm

The water is now rising
But on this high hill
We’ll not feel a single splash

Because I could not stop for death

This is my version of Emily Dickinson's "Because I could not stop for death"

Because I could not stop for death
He kindly stopped for me
He offered his hand as I stepped in
A sound journey-his guarantee

He took the reins and on we went
With endless time to spare
I threw away each doubt and sigh
I tossed my every care

On the horizon first, a soaring dove
Its peace I did surely crave
Now on the right, a dying tree
Twas beautiful, but also grave

The horses galloped faster
As death cracked his flaming whip
I shivered as I caught the truth:
This was no welcome trip

Then suddenly, the wheels were still
A new figure appeared ahead
A powerful, bold stance had he
“This ends now,” he said

I leaped to the ground as quick I could
This bright man I could not deny
For his name was life and his home was earth
It was not my time to die

The Great Lover

Earlier in the year, we were instructed to take a poem of Rupert Brooke's as an example and write a similar poem of our own. Here's mine.

The Great Lover
These I have loved:
Musical notes on paper, ovals hanging from lines
A mess when written, a masterpiece when played;
The distant hum of the highway, where varied vehicles
With different destinations play the same song;
The inner sense of unbridled musical passion,
Keeping the beat in your mind and your feet;
The instrument in your hand, cold at first touch,
Then warm in your grip as you yearn to incite
The vibration and the resonance without holding back;
Air sweeps cinnamon from the candle especially for me,
Its tantalizing sting has my nose addicted;
And as the pillow captures and cradles my lazy head,
The purified scent of clean sheets
Will have me lay there forever;
My mouth suffers to fully savor the flavor of warm pastries,
But the silky milk is more delicious
As it cleans my throat soon after;
The night sky, mostly plain and dull,
Unceasingly attracts my eyes and my thoughts
With the wonder brought on by its dark emptiness;
Almost as satisfying is the fresh smell of the grass,
Which feels so sharp, yet soft as I lay upon it;
The crickets manage to irritate and calm me
At the same time with their unrelenting, alluring chirps;
The banana, with its creamy flavor released
After being smashed with my tongue and teeth,
Is perhaps the most stunning of all,
To think that nature could produce something
So pleasurable and unique confounds me;
An uncommon, unnoticed essence
Somehow always seems to dim the others,
Not seen, heard, tasted, or smelled,
Not even felt, at least not physically,
Secluded silence, the most perplexing presence,
Is only there because nothing else is,
Its lack of senses invites me to create my own.
With it, a whole new world unfolds
Right on top of the spectacular one before us;
All these have been my loves.

Another Path

Here is my version of Robert Frost's "The Road Not Taken".

Another Path

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then saw the other, as just as fair,
Which had perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

A great problem in my mind did arise
For the first went left and the other right
But I wanted straight with no reprise
And no forward path welcomed my eyes.
I pondered, then cursed at the plight.

Both trails seemed used quite oft,
Any wonders there were already seen
And while the soil seemed pleasingly soft,
A prevailing thought, my mind held aloft.
My desire was the lost treasure between

And so I left the easy ground
And into the thick, wild wood I fled
With a hope to discover something profound
In a place where risks and rewards abound.
A third path will be paved where I tread

A Slick Gimmick

So we've been writing poems for English lately and my friends have apparently enjoyed them enough to urge me to put them up here on my blog. So here are a few I've finished up. I must admit, some did turn out quite fabulous!

This is my sound poem, where we had to bring in rhyming, onomatopoeias, consonance, assonance, alliteration, or, as I did, a combination of all of them. People who have read mine seem to like this one the most, tell me what you think. For the full effect, try reading it out loud. And yes, it shares its name with my blog. That's how awesome it is.

A Slick Gimmick
Faint footsteps fall
Onto the faded floor
The flick of a light
And now the sounds, taking flight
Mark the start of noisy night

A loud burst from the mic
Like a lightning strike
Then the bleak speaker
Settles itself
A quick test: “1, 2, 3”
The vocals are ready to be

The bass takes its place
Putting power before passion
A cord is caught
On the strumming thumb
Now the ground is riddled with rattles
A quick “ready” zips from his lips
The term affirms silence

A guitar from afar
Seems extreme, like some are
Its dulcet ring sings things
That no other could bring
Low notes and high lines
Soar softly

A tap-tap on the tom-tom
A proud pound on the big bass
Sticks click with a finger trick
Trimming the rim of the cymbal
The beat is broken by
A thunderous roar of wonder

They know the slow moment
Could captivate the crowd completely
So in an easy tease, they delay
And wait for the breeze
Then finally the unique union
Begins their gig with a song
And so goes the rest of the show
A slick gimmick without a doubt

A Leaf

This here's my personification poem: choose an object, bring it to life. This is one probably my favorite of this round of poems.

A Leaf

I am born in the springtime breeze
When the winter is finally done.
I advertise the coming season
Of bright days and endless fun
The tree is my mother
And my father is the sun.
They have made me so beautiful,
But of thousands, I’m just one.

My green siblings stay by my side;
Together, we sing a blissful tune.
We call to those who pass us by
Throughout the sunny afternoon,
But when our brilliant father leaves the sky
And leaves his promise in the moon
Mother cradles our trembling bodies
And whispers: he’ll come back soon.

I hang on to my mother’s fingers,
But I am only so strong.
We all know that one day snow
Will end our summer song.
I’ll be torn from my big family,
Having done nothing wrong.
And when I finally hit the ground,
I’ll forget where I belong.

With the help of the chilly wind,
I’ll leap from place to place.
I’ll paint a solemn shade of brown
Upon my poor wrinkling face.
The chill will cause me to shiver,
Not caring for my timeless grace.
In the end, I know I’ll pass away
And fall into the soil’s embrace.

Lap

For this poem, we had to come up with a multiple-meaning word, and to bring in all of these meanings in an almost riddle-like way. I chose the word lap.

Lap
Your heart beats faster when you complete another
But you hate when someone does it to you
Especially when they over-do it
Some think of a place of peace, of luxury
Others see the hollow place in the hill
Accompanied by wrinkles and folds
It taints disheveled clothing
Coworkers always seem
To stack their problems and complaints on yours
It’s what the blankets do to your bed
Or what the puppy does to the water
You will find one in a jewel crafter’s workshop
And many in the fabric store
The little ones sit upon grandma’s
When she reads their favorite stories
She better not stand up, or it will disappear
If you are adorable enough
I just might let you sit on mine

Potential

Here is what I came up with for our metaphor poem, with potential as the subject.

Potential

It’s the tip of the sun on the horizon
As an unknown day begins to unfold

It’s the first few notes of a brand new song
However beautiful or catchy they may be

It’s the King/Seven you see in one hand
As you rummage through your dwindling chip stack with the other

It’s the first chapter of a fresh book
The one that doesn’t yet make sense

It’s the light bulb that turns on in your head
As your heart starts beating faster

It’s a blank sheet of paper
With so many things to become

It’s the first firework of a fiery show
The one everyone was expecting, but never saw coming

It’s the ball dropping as seconds pass
The end of an adventure and the opening of another

It’s a child’s mind taking it all in
But not yet knowing exactly what to do with it

It’s the dress rehearsal for the final performance
Or the warm-up for the game everyone’s been waiting for

It’s the smile on her face
As you walk her to her door after a lovely night

That’s potential

Bloomed, Not Doomed

Here is a poem I wrote early in the year for English where we had to choose whether we'd be a weed or a flower. (PS: making a poem rhyme makes it take four times longer to write, just so you know)

Bloomed, not Doomed

Why be a weed?
They annoy, irritate
With no beauty, no purpose
They inspire us to hate
Their only wish is to live
To fill in the gaps
More appealing things
A weed only entraps
They may be free
To explore the unknown
But a boring life, that is
For they are alone
They have little to offer
They are only doomed

A flower is my choice
They’re a pleasure to see
Delicate and treasured
Are better things to be
Vibrant and extraordinary
I’ll show off with no care
If only to let everyone know
I have something to share
Even when my time is come
And I am picked and sent away
I’ll always be a symbol, by which
you remember that special day
I’ll be in the garden
Worthwhile and fully bloomed

White

Here is what I wrote for our color poem: pick a color, associate all five senses with it. This is what I came up with.

White
A blinding light
Piercing my eyes with intensity
Only when it is dimmed can we see
A blank paper
A more appealing sight
Boring now, but perhaps more appealing
When later tainted with the shades of color
That lay upon the imagined canvas of our mind
Winter
The numbing chill of its snow
The threatening slickness of its ice
While the tantalizing embrace of a soft pillow
Waits inside
Popcorn popping
An audible delight
Though the heavenly ballads from clouds above
With their angelic chorusing and strummed harps
Are far more dulcet tunes
An array of flavors
Tickling the tongue almost incomprehensibly
The bitterness of salt
The sweetness of sugar
Soap, sour and revolting
Mint, cool and refreshing
Plainness in the form of milk
And the lusciousness hidden in marshmallow
A new plethora of complexity enters the nostrils
The rancid stench of an onion pushes us away
While the pungent mozzarella draws us near
Acrid mist and smoke signal danger
When suddenly, again
A blinding light

Simple Poems 3/15

That's right guys: poetry, a new hobby I've picked up. I guess you could call me an amateur poet now. Here are a few of the first lines I've come up with. They're simple, but who cares? I'd love it if you tell me what you think! Enjoy!

A Hard Life
There are times I'd give anything
For an easier life,
One that is filled
With more joy and less strife.

But then I smile and remind myself:
That is no fun.
I'd much rather try
To fight the clouds to find the sun.


The Storm
Cold and alone,
I shiver and moan
At dark clouds I never wanted to see.

But huddled together,
We brave this bad weather.
Nothing matters when you're next to me.


Soaring
So
Here I go
Taking off again
Forgetting where I've been
Looking up and around
But never down
Soaring


Yep, definitely amateur, but ever so promising!