"Pintler Falls"

“Pintler Falls” Water roars down Over the rocks. Mist splashes my face. A good, long hike Has taken us to this beautiful place Where the bears come To quench their thirst. The trees’ roots are jumbled Over the ground. You better not trip, Or you’ll find yourself Headfirst in the boggy mud.

"Moose"

“Moose”

Gangly legs.

Small tufts of hair.

Their ears move

Independent of each other

Thus great hearing.

It turns to look at me.

I snap the picture.

It turns its large head back to the tree

With not a care in the world.

What a peculiar creature.

"Autumn"

"Autumn"
Two faces painted.
One girl.
One boy.
They sit in unison.
Side by side,
The pumpkins lay,
A vivid bright orange
Amongst the hay.
These enchanting smiles
Bring joy to what is fall.

Kayla

I.
I was a replacement child;
Born to fill the void.
The times of sadness
Were no more.
Born in a mountainous region,
My birth brought joy to all.
The room was full of smiles,
And my grandfather was proud all the while.
He stood;
Grinning from ear to ear
As he always would
Whenever he was proud of me.

II.
I’m looking through the glass
At the world around me.
A river runs through the backyard.
The Canadian geese fill the air
With their shrill honks.
The moose stand in the middle
With their noses in the air.
They turn their massive heads
To eat the lush, green
Of the willows.
Serenity.
My home.

III.
A friend.
A teacher.
A mentor:
My sister.
A guardian.
A saint.
A blessing:
My sister.
Trusting.
Honest.
Beautiful:
My sister.


IV.
My favorite pastime:
Tennis.
Rain or shine,
You can find me on the nearest court.
Backhand.
Forehand.
Volley.
Lob.
The Wilson drifts over the net.
Into the back corner.
Victory.


V.
My bestest friend.
She’s a fighter.
A winner.
We grew up together.
We share the same mind;
The same thoughts.
Her troubles are my troubles.
If she is in pain,
I am in pain.
Her family is my family.
My family is her family.
We are sisters.

VI.
I love basketball.
The ball spins through the air;
A rainbow of sorts.
It hits the backboard.
Circles.
Endless.
All eyes fixated on the perfect ring.
Goes in.
A loud gasp
And the crowd cheers.

VII.
My grandfather’s house:
A children’s playground.
A big yellow slide
That never ends.
An old, rusting swing set against the shed
Reminds me of younger days.
The hammock, now destroyed,
Was once new
And the center of everyone’s attention.
Caught in a web,
We all giggled with joy.

VIII.
I feel like an only child.
My sister has left the house.
We were once so close,
But now she is far away.
She has a new life
With new opportunities.
The one she lives now
Is a world different than mine
With glassy skyscrapers
And heavy traffick,
But I do love my Montana.

IX.
Some might say
They love the sunshine.
I do,
However I prefer the rain.
The rain is good for lots of things:
Dancing.
Singing.
Playing basketball
(One of my favorite things to do).
It washes away yesterday
And leaves the promise
Of a tomorrow.
A new day.
Cleansed.
Fresh.
Free.

X.
Fill your cup with paint.
Any color.
You choose.
Become your character.
Absorb that color.
You are now a different person.
When you are on stage,
You are not yourself.
I love these funny anecdotes
That we must do
Before we perform
In a play.

The Dream

The rain was a torrential downpour.
It woke her from her dreamless sleep.
She got up to explore
But fell back asleep.

Her dream consisted of imaginary things:
Mystical unicorns, elves, and dragons,
Beautiful birds with red-tipped wings.
She would be sad when she awakened.

She woke up all too soon.
She wished she would have never woken up.
She felt as if someone had taken a pin to her balloon
And then it blew up.

She hoped she would dream of that place again,
But she didn’t know when.

Summer

The rays of the sun shine down upon my head.
I let out a sight of contentment.
The sunburn on my arm is blood red
And vibrant.

I wade into the shallow water
And let it surround me.
In the distance I can see a sleek, brown otter
Crawling towards the shade of the great, green tree.

The ants tickle my toes,
And I flick them away.
A day like this helps me to forget my woes
And keep them at bay.

The sky turns to pink and purple with the sunset.
A day like this is something I won’t forget.

Mental Tennis

My head is spinning.
I’ve worked so hard.
Right now I’m winning,
But I always play the mental card.

I focus my eyes on the yellow ball.
It’s coming fast.
There is no time to stall,
And I don’t want to be surpassed.

I take a deep breath in and out.
The air is fresh and cool.
My opponent is worn-out.
This time I didn’t have to play the fool.

I fill with accomplishment as I hit the final blow.
I put a smile on my face and everybody can see that I am aglow.

Poetry Appreciation Week #2

I chose "Why Nobody Pets the Lion at the Zoo" because it has a fun rhyming scheme and a positive message about human nature. I thought this poem was fun for everyone. I chose "Arithmetic" as my number two because it makes you think, and it is humorous. I chose "Summons" as my number three because oftentimes I never want to sleep because I feel like I will miss out on something. There's so much I want to do in life and little time to do it. The second and third peoms probably only appeal to adult audiences. I liked all three because they have a deeper meaning and may teach a lesson.

Poetry Appreciation Week

Why Nobody Pets the Lion at the Zoo

by John Ciardi

The morning that the world began
The Lion growled a growl at Man.

And I suspect the Lion might
(If he’d been closer) have tried a bite.

I think that’s as it ought to be
And not as it was taught to me.

I think the Lion has a right
To growl a growl and bite a bite.

And if the Lion bothered Adam,
He should have growled right back at ’im.

The way to treat a Lion right
Is growl for growl and bite for bite.

True, the Lion is better fit
For biting than for being bit.

But if you look him in the eye
You’ll find the Lion’s rather shy.

He really wants someone to pet him.
The trouble is: his teeth won’t let him.

He has a heart of gold beneath
But the Lion just can’t trust his teeth.






Arithmetic

By Carl Sandburg

Arithmetic is where numbers fly like pigeons in and out of your head.Arithmetic tell you how many you lose or win if you know how many you had before you lost or won.Arithmetic is seven eleven all good children go to heaven -- or five six bundle of sticks.Arithmetic is numbers you squeeze from your head to your hand to your pencil to your paper till you get the answer.Arithmetic is where the answer is right and everything is nice and you can look out of the window and see the blue sky -- or the answer is wrong and you have to start all over and try again and see how it comes out this time.If you take a number and double it and double it again and then double it a few more times, the number gets bigger and bigger and goes higher and higher and only arithmetic can tell you what the number is when you decide to quit doubling.Arithmetic is where you have to multiply -- and you carry the multiplication table in your head and hope you won't lose it.If you have two animal crackers, one good and one bad, and you eat one and a striped zebra with streaks all over him eats the other, how many animal crackers will you have if somebody offers you five six seven and you say No no no and you say Nay nay nay and you say Nix nix nix?If you ask your mother for one fried egg for breakfast and she gives you two fried eggs and you eat both of them, who is better in arithmetic, you or your mother?




Summons

By Robert Francis

Keep me from going to sleep too soon
Or if I go to sleep too soon
Come wake me up.
Come any hourOf night.
Come whistling up the road.
Stomp on the porch.
Bang on the door.
Make me get out of bed and come
And let you in and light a light.
Tell me the northern lights are on
And make me look.
Or tell me clouds
Are doing something to the moon
They never did before, and show me.
See that I see.
Talk to me till
I'm half as wide awake as you
And start to dress wondering
whyI ever went to bed at all.
Tell me the walking is superb.
Not only tell me but persuade me.
You know I'm not too hard persuaded.

Changed

Charlie lived his life doing the same thing day after day. Every morning he woke up on the right side of the bed and had two pieces of toast and one egg for breakfast. After that, he would take a shower and put on a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt. He always wore white socks and the same old white shoes everyday. It was obvious that Charlie was afraid of change. He had lost all his friends because they couldn’t stand doing the same thing day in and day out.
One day, Charlie woke up and realized something was missing in his life. He didn’t know what, so he continued on with his boring routine. That night, before he went to bed, he decided he would embrace change.
The next morning he woke up on the left side of the bed and had two pieces of toast with grape jelly and a bowl of cereal. He dressed himself in shorts with a blue T-shirt. He put on green socks and a brand new pair of tennis shoes. He called up his old friend Bob and invited him over. Bob greeted him with a hug and forgave him for all the years that he wasted. Then Charlie and Bob went out for dinner. When they got there, Charlie immediately took notice of a cute, young woman sitting alone. It took him awhile to gain his composure, and some courage, but he finally asked her to join them for dinner. She accepted. Her name was Mary, and Charlie liked her from the very beginning. She loved his outfit and agreed to go on a more formal date with him. Charlie was glad that he took a risk to change.

The Procrastinator

Katrina was a smart girl who always got her homework done on time. She worked hard in everything she did. The first thing she did when she got home was do her homework. Even on days that she had drama practice or tennis practice, she always got her homework done. Most nights she would stay up until the early hours of the morning just to finish her tremendous pile of schoolwork. She would wake up five hours later to get ready for another day of school.
One day, for her creative writing class, the teacher, Mrs. Hunt, assigned three parables for the class to write.
“You have five days to write them. They’re due on Friday.”
Katrina thought that was easy enough. She had finished all her previous assignment with a couple days to spare. She figured she could write them in no time. As the week progressed, she had only written parable that made absolutely no sense. At this point, she began to worry. Justina had finished all her parables before the second day, and Kailey already had a great start on hers. They were starting to make her look bad.
It was the day before the assignment was due, and Katrina was freaking out. She already had so many other things to worry about and a lot of other work to do. What made things worse was that she had a tennis match that day. The tennis meet would consume all her time after school, and she began to wonder how she was going to get everything done. In a panic, she thought about her options. Maybe Justina would be nice enough to write one for her…. No, that wouldn’t work. She couldn’t think of anything else but to just do it on her own with any spare time that she may have. The only time she had was in study hall that day. She immediately ripped out her notebook as soon as the bell ran. Her hand was screaming across the paper as she tried to finish a parable. The paper was covered in blotchy handwriting, but at least she had something to turn in the next day. That night, after tennis, she went home and worked on the other two all night. They were not good at all. Katrina was worried for the next day because she knew she did horrible on the assignment.
Before she knew it, she was sitting in her creative writing class and had to read her work aloud. She tried to hide her face as it grew hot with embarrassment. As soon as she was done, the kids laughed at her, and Mrs. Hunt said, “That was poop. You did not take your time on the assignment. You fail the class.” Katrina cried and never went back to school.
You should always take your time and do your best.

The Race

Once there was an old, rich man who had two sons. His oldest son, Joseph, was obsessed with money. He would like cheat, and steal to get what he wanted. The old man’s other son, Jachob, had many friends and was well liked by the community.
One day, the old man realized he was getting too old and didn’t have much time left, so he organized a race for his two sons. The first one that would cross the finish line would inherit all his money and land. Joseph was very excited by this. He could just see himself winning the race and rolling in the money. The people in the crowd would surround him and congratulate him. On the other hand, Jachob was not concerned about the race at all. He already had all he could ever want: great friends and family.
It was the day of the race and both boys were on the starting line. As soon as the buzzer went off, Joseph pushed his younger brother to the ground and ran ahead. Jachob slowly got back up, but, by this time, Joseph had already won the race. Joseph was throwing his arms in the air with glory, but nobody was there to congratulate him. Everybody was gathered around Jachob helping to brush off the dirt.
In the end, Joseph was very lonely and not even his money could help him. Jachob had no money, but he had friends that were willing to help.

Revenge

I was always there for you
To help you dry your tears.
I was your lean-to
And got rid of all your fears.

You were my best friend.
You were my rock.
I hated your stupid boyfriend
That used you like a dirty sock.

I tried to warn you,
But you would not listen.
What you did is something you can’t undo,
And, for that, I know you will always miss him.

“Let’s do something tonight,” I would say.
“I can’t, I’m busy,” she would always reply.
In sorrow I would state, “Maybe next Sunday,”
And let out a sigh.

My patience grew thin
As I saw less of her.
Competing with him, I could never win.
To her, he was always better.

All those years meant nothing,
And all those hours spent
Resulted in loathing
And my discontent.

You’re so naïve
And just a child.
He was destined to deceive
And leave you defiled.

I tried to pick up the pieces
And put them back together.
The pieces would not fit,
And now I’ve lost you forever.

He is to blame.
You can’t deny.
I’ve been dying inside
Ever since he came.

He must die.
He cannot live.
I will not let him tell you another lie
And let you be submissive.

I got my knife
And went to his room.
I took his life.
“They killed himself,” they would presume.

Nobody would ever know,
That was the way it had to be.
I never had to hide my shadow
Because I would always be free.

Untimely Death

The rain was crashing against her window
While she was snuggled in her bed.
She looked to her beau
And kissed his weary head.

He looked so serene
With his eyes closed.
They’d been together since she was seventeen
And two years later he proposed.

She loved him with all her heart
And would ‘til the day she died.
They had never been apart
And it was on him that she relied.

“I love you,” she whispered in his ear
And cupped his hand in hers.
He did not seem to hear,
So she continued to discern his features.

She touched his cheek
And she touched his lips.
He felt so sleek
Under her tight grip.

So peaceful he was
With his head on his pillow.
She loved him so much
That she wept like a weeping willow.

The sun started to rise
And the rooster to crow
She let out some sighs
And wondered what the day would bestow.

She went downstairs for some breakfast
And a hot cup of coffee.
She took a sip
That sent chills through her body.

She could feel something was not right.
It went straight through her bones.
What she found was a frightful sight;
Her lover lay still with unknowns.

The tears came to her eyes
And stung them with pain.
She gave him her goodbyes,
As she would never see him again.

She wept on the floor
And pounded the ground.
She ran out the door
And was never to be found.

His body was discovered with lipstick on his cheek
Of the girl that he truly did love.
The love that they had was truly unique
In that it sent them free like a dove.

St. Dobbs

Long ago, when the state of Montana did not exist, there was a young man named Edward Dobbs. He roamed the grassy plains in search of a new home. In the plains that he roamed, he found countless numbers of pestilent rodents that got in the way of his building site. In order to remove them off the property, he started a grand fire that swept clear across the modern state of Montana. This eloquent fire killed a vast majority of the rodents. After this, Edward Dobbs was highly esteemed. People came from all across the nation to settle in the empty plains. The population multiplied, and Edward Dobbs’ success is still celebrated today on March, 18. On this day, people often gather and build small campfires to symbolize the great fire and roast rodents on a stick. It is tradition to wear red and orange on this day.

Limericks

There once was a dog named Jack.
He loved to be scratched on the back.
Then, one day,
He ran away.
They couldn’t even find his tracks.


The small man that wore green
Was awful shiny and sheen.
He laughed a lot,
More often than not.
But he preferred not to be seen.


A certain boy named Mark
Wanted to live with the sharks.
He grew a gill
And swam until
The sun went down and became dark.

Personal Ad #4

Beautiful, illustrious student seeking friend. I'm nice, friendly, and attractive. Must be smart, be able to hold intelligent conversations, and like the outdoors. Don't keep me waiting, put on your hiking boots and let's go!

Personal Ad #3

These heels need a break from the fast-paced confines of the city. I love pink, shopping, and shoes, shoes, shoes! Looking for a knight in shining armor covered in hundred dollar bills. Must love dogs. Please come sweep me off my feet that are held down with thousand dollar shoes.

Let's Get Personal...Again

Fancy feline looking for the purrr-fect tail to tango with. Purrr-ky and loves the color purrr-ple. Looking for the meow to my mix, someone to put the frisky in my Friskies, and will take me out to a fancy feast. Come on, Tiger.

Let's Get Personal

Oriental pharmacist seeks bitter ex-convict for card games, watching movies, and badminton. Must be short, enjoy Austin Powers, and be tolerant of drinking. Fit body a plus. Jehovah Witnesses need not apply.

Giving Me Hell

I remember it clearly. It was a Friday. Friday, February 6, to be exact. I had just woken up from a late night with the roomies and had to be on the bus by seven o’clock. I quickly jumped in the shower, and, to my dismay, couldn’t find any shampoo. I found the conditioner, but there was no shampoo. What good is conditioner without shampoo? Right away I knew that my day was not going to start off well. I got out of the shower and sat there impatiently and waited for the sleepyheads to get up. I looked at the clock and it was almost six o’clock. Amy’s phone went off, and she quickly got up, followed by Marina. I waited for them to get ready and it felt as if I’d already been ready for hours. We went down to the lobby and waited for the boss, Mrs. Shaw, to come down. We headed on out to the bus and were driven to the theater where we would watch other schools perform their plays.
Thespians are a cool, lively bunch of people. As this was my first year at the Thespian Festival, I was really excited about what was to come and the people I was going to meet. We get to the college and sit down in our designated areas. At this point, I’m feeling pretty good, despite my morning’s mishaps. As I’m quietly sitting in my seat, I remember the dreadful cold I had gotten two days earlier. I found it hard to breathe, so I looked in my purse for some medicine. And what did I find? Nothing. For weeks I had been preparing myself for this day just to make sure that I would have everything that I needed. I couldn’t believe that this was happening to me. I vented my anger to Carl, who was sitting on my left, and to Mallory, who was sitting on my right. I knew that my day was not going to be the best when there was no shampoo. It was a foreshadowing.
The first act began, and I was sitting in dreadful, painful misery. I really tried to enjoy myself, but it wasn’t working out. I looked to the front, but my attention kept getting caught on Carl with his noisy, oversized coat and Mallory whose head was practically lying on my shoulder. I leaned to my left and was uncomfortable for the rest of the performance. Hours later, or so it seemed, there was an intermission. I stretched myself out, and, a short while later, the next school began its performance. It was a comedy. I was actually starting to get into it when I heard somebody listening to their loud, obnoxious music.
“How rude,” I thought to myself.
I tried to ignore the music and pay more attention to the play, but it was overwhelming.
“Hard candy?” asked the player on stage.
The music continued to go on.
“What the hell,” said the Eskimo sitting on my left.
“Whoever is doing that should die.”
I look around to see who it could possibly be. It sounds like it’s coming from my left, so I look to the left. The Eskimo hears it coming from his right, so he looks to the right. We are looking all around, and I see this girl sitting in front of me. She looks directly at me with a disgusted look in her eyes. I’m irritated that she would even think that it was me, so I try to play off my exasperation and put my attention back to the play.
“Hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell.”
I tapped the Eskimo on his shoulder, and, at that exact moment, I was overcome with fear. I hurriedly reached into my coat pocket to pull out the iPod that I had left there earlier that day. My face grew so hot and I was so embarrassed. The obnoxious music that had been playing was all mine. It had been me the whole time. I felt horrible for distracting everyone that was around me. I felt like a complete idiot. I got laughed at the rest of the day by Carl and Mallory. I’m still embarrassed to this day.

Ewe Kill Me

Freshmen and sophomores have to be the strangest people on the planet. They are kinda in their awkward stages of life where they are just entering high school and appear to be really immature. As I sit in Mr. Head’s room, I realize I am sitting amongst a group of monkeys; really loud, smelly, silly monkeys. I’m surprised that they weren’t hanging from the ceiling upside down. Señor Cabeza was trying his best to control them.
“You’ll get homework again if you keep talking.”
“We don’t want homework again. You guys be quiet,” blurts out the loud mouth of the bunch.
It wasn’t ten seconds later, and everyone started chattering again. I smile to myself while Mr. Head is trying to control his frustration.
Meanwhile, in the back corner of the classroom, Kaleb starts blurting out Chewbacca sounds.
“Knock it off,” said Mr. Head testily.
Mr. Head turned his back to the class, and Chewbacca did it again; twice. Everybody laughed.
Before the Spanish game started, there was a quick discussion about the trip to Spain.
“Are there any cute girls in Spain?” asked the middle Allen.
“There are none,” replied Señor Head.
“Big ones, small ones, some the size of your head,” could be heard from the back of the classroom being sung by two sophomore boys.
Then the game had begun. My ears started burning while I was listening to these Spanish I kids try to pronunciate the words correctly. Inside my head I’m telling them to say “moo-sica”, like a cow, not “m-ewe-sica” like a sheep. I slowly start daydreaming about farm animals, and I crack myself up when I realize this. Then, all of a sudden, I see this finger glowing red out of the corner of my eye. I instantly think of E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial, and, if you knew me, you would know that I’ve been deathly afraid of E.T. ever since I was a little girl. I almost peed my pants and ran out of the classroom when I saw it. It turns out that it was only a fake, light up finger that Little Sacry put on his finger.
“Hey, Mr. Head, look.” He lifts up his finger and is ignored. He calls to Mr. Head again.
“What?”
“Look.”
“Wow.”
Mr. Head then chuckles.
“What does sexta mean?”
Now the sex jokes are flying around the classroom.
“They were doing it in the backseat of her car, and you could hear it from a mile away.”
“I was not,” screamed the eccentric red head.
“No, it means sixth,” explained Mr. Head.
“Indeed-i-o,” murmured Chewbacca in the back.
The game was coming to a close, and fourth period was almost over. I reflected back on the time that I spent with those dirty apes and was glad that it was almost over. I was ecstatic when the bell rang, and we all stampeded out of the classroom to lunch.

"Breaking the Mold"

This world is so cold.
It makes me cry.
I was born to break the mold.

A vision of happiness is one I cannot hold.
I scream in the night.
This world is so cold.

Life is easy, or so I was told.
Everyone knows that is a lie.
I was born to break the mold.

I look for answers, but all I find is fool's gold.
It's just not right.
This world is so cold.

But, behold!
I find hope in the stars of the sky.
I was born to break the mold.

Under the pressure, I did not fold.
There is always happiness in sight.
This world is so cold.
I was born to break the mold.

"Dallice"

What happened to tomorrow?
You promised you would be there.
My heart is drowning in sorrow.

It's getting hard to swallow.
I need some fresh air.
What happened to tomorrow?

I would climb Mt. Kilimanjaro.
In fact, I would go anywhere.
My heart is drowning in sorrow.

In my despair, I will wallow.
This whole ordeal has been a nightmare.
What happened to tomorrow?

I'm feeling so hollow.
This truth is hard to bear.
My heart is drowning in sorrow.

It is you I will follow,
And I will share my prayers.
What happened to tomorrow?
My heart is drowning in sorrow.


In memory of Dally.

"A Villanelle for the Cows"

The cows press muzzles to the swelling green.
Their heavy bodies carried with much grace,
scattered, they complete the pastoral scene.

They leave the pasture close-mowed when they pass
and move across the grass with steady pace.
The cows press muzzles to the swelling green.

Their printed tracks in field, wood, brook are seen.
On hills they trample paths from every trace.
Scattered, they complete the pastoral scene.

When sunset dims their range they are serene,
and standing round the hills remain in place.
The cows press muzzles to the swelling green.

The coyote calls among the hills ring keen,
but cattle, undisturbed, still hold their space.
Scattered, they complete the pastoral scene.

All day their busy mouths crop, cut, and glean,
methodically, at slow but steady pace,
the cows press muzzles to the swelling green,
and scattered, they complete the pastoral scene.

-Paul Williams.

I like this poem because I grew up with cows, so I guess you could say it reminds me of home.

"Pegasus Villanelle"

The Pegasus flies into the night,
its majestic wings the color of gold.
The poets inspired by this sight.

An immortal offspring, purely white
from Greek mythology told.
The Pegasus flies into the night.

With eyes crystal blue and bright,
Poseidon's power was the mold.
The poets inspired by this sight.

Perseus freed it for the flight,
Medusa no longer had her hold.
The Pegasus flies into the night.

Bellephron saw it in the light,
with a gold bridle he was bold.
The poets inspired by this sight.

On Mount Olympus it reached the heights,
of its grace and beauty Zeus extolled.
The Pegasus flies into the night.
The poets inspired by this sight.


-Candice Kelley

I like this poem because it is pure fantasy and Greek mythology.

"Always"

I look into your eyes,
And I can see your pain.
I don't want to say goodbye
Because my love for you is something I would not feign.

You will soon be gone,
And I will be lost.
For what have I won,
But all of your trust.

Far away you will be,
In a land of magic,
Away from me,
Oh, how tragic.

Though far away, please know that I love you, dear,
And in my heart you will always be near.


By: Me.

"Friendship"

We had a friendship pure and true,
A friendship time could never cease,
That in sad moments, could renew,
And bring to us release,
We had a friendship, you and I,
That was taken much for granted.
We thought that it would never die,
Much like the seed that we have planted.
And in such haste did we forget,
The love required to grow,
And at our feet it shall be set,
Drowning from feelings never shown.
Maybe we can save this seed before its time is through,
For I've never had a friendship, as the one i have with you.



I chose this poem because it made me realize how much I take my friends for granted. We get so wrapped up in our own lives that we don't have time for each other.

"Fascination"

The paper, pure, seductive, sends its call,
Daring me to write immortal verse;
A pencil lies here, neat and magical --
This lure to pen and parchment is a curse!
There is no poem crying for release,
No thought I must express before it's lost;
But in my restless little search for peace
I opened the wrong drawer, and so was tossed
Into the fire of my addiction, which I can
But quell by adding fuel in scanning rhyme.
At length this page is sullied by the span
Of fourteen lines, and I'm safe for a time.
Blank sheets, fresh pens or pencils, trap my mind:
I must write, good or bad. Critics, be kind.


Kay Nanling Michaelson, 1971

I like this poem because writing is, in fact, seductive. Once you start, you can't stop.

"Court of Broken Dreams"

The night is dim.
The moon is out.
He touches the rim
and his opponents pout.

Two more for the team
One minute to go,
This is his dream
He must make the final free throw.

The sweat drips across his furrowed brow.
He shoots.
He misses.
What happens now?


My first poem this year. OUCH!

"A Three Point Shot from Andromeda"

Rain rusted orange
ring of saturn
in urban orbit
over an outdoor gym

nighttime jumpers
pull up to the hoop
dance on the rim
bolted against a metal backboard sky
riddled with ninety nine thousand
BB sized holes
compressing fifth floor duplex
kitchen light
into a galaxy
of 50 watt schoolyard stars

supra flex intense constellations
handcheck
rotate on defense
double down
tryin to guard
spinning playground
planetarium delirium
of black gods flyin
on neighborhood rep
shake n bake
pump fake
jab step
past orion
walk on air
and burst a reverse
on the stellar bear


- Paul Beatty

I like basketball. I like this poem. This poem is about basketball, therefore I like it. I also like the imagination and creativity of reaching into the stars for something you want. I mean, it doesn't get much cooler than intergalactic space dudes playing basketball.
It's also fun to see how someone can take something so ordinary and turn it into something "out of this world."

"Grin"

If you're up against a bruiser and you're getting knocked about --

Grin.

If you're feeling pretty groggy, and you're licked beyond a doubt --

Grin.

Don't let him see you're funking, let him know with every clout, Though your face is battered to a pulp, your blooming heart is stout; Just stand upon your pins until the beggar knocks you out --

And grin.

This life's a bally battle, and the same advice holds true

Of grin.

If you're up against it badly, then it's only one on you,

So grin.

If the future's black as thunder, don't let people see you're blue; Just cultivate a cast-iron smile of joy the whole day through; If they call you "Little Sunshine", wish that THEY'D no troubles, too --

You may -- grin.

Rise up in the morning with the will that, smooth or rough,

You'll grin.

Sink to sleep at midnight, and although you're feeling tough,

Yet grin.

There's nothing gained by whining, and you're not that kind of stuff; You're a fighter from away back, and you WON'T take a rebuff; Your trouble is that you don't know when you have had enough --

Don't give in.

If Fate should down you, just get up and take another cuff; You may bank on it that there is no philosophy like bluff,

And grin.


Robert W. Service


I really like this poem because often days it is hard to get up, but you have to do it anyway and you might as well grin and bear it.

"Election Time"

Names will change
faces will change
but not much else
the President will still be white
and male
and wasps
still speak with forked tongue
still wear red, white and blue underwear
still sleep on white sheets
in a white house
still surround himself with white men
still believe that white is the best thing to be
still read all white newspapers
that only talk about Blacks in connection with crime
still fly in white Air Force One
still worship a white Jesus
still pray to a white God
still go on vacation
where white people lie on white sand beaches
still white out his mistakes
still issue white papers
still throw out little white balls
on opening day
still uphold the laws of dead white men
still dream about big white monuments
and big white memorials
ain’t nothin’ changed
ain’t nothin’ changed at all

Lamont B. Steptoe 1994


I like this poem because it shows that people can change. Go Obama!

Writing History

Well, there are a couple reasons as to why I am taking this class. First, I took this class because no other classes would fit into my schedule. Another reason is that I just love to write. People see me as a quiet person, so it's just easier for me to write things than to say them. What people probably don't know about me is my sense of humor. I'm hilarious. Anyway, through my writing I like to convey who I am, and who I am is funny.
I've written various short stories and poems throughout the years.... Nothing too interesting. Actually I learned when I was rather young that I liked to write.
What do I hope to learn? Hmm...that's a hard question. I guess I would like to learn everything that I can. My brain could use some straining. Like now. See, it's already working.
I hope that this post gets me an A++

Riddle

I am funny and outspoken.
I wonder why people don't laugh at my jokes.
I hear troll doll jingles.
I see the news.
I want to know more about current events.
I am an idiot and I'm your boyfriend.
I pretend that I am Conan O'Brian.
I feel silly.
I touch coffee cups.
I worry about the weekend updates.
I cry about not having a blue troll doll.
I am mischievous and malleable.
I understand that I am the funniest man alive.
I say that I can't play basketball.
I dream of owning a troll doll.
I try to make people laugh.
I hope to be like Conan O'Brian.

My Life

Yay for blogging! Finally, some of my own thoughts written down :)