What if you see black and I see white?
Or a potted plant is purple?
What if green is really red?
Seen different, but called same?
But both call it blue?
How could we tell?
Different?
The same?
Both?
Friday, April 20, 2012
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
The Happy Poem
Writing a poem is harder than it looks
More easily read and seen in books
Trying to write one filled with joy
Is enough to do in any girl or boy
Easily smiles turn into frowns
All light disappears and darkness abounds
Harder to write of happiness and cheer
When what lies in your heart is darkness and fear
I wrote two happy poems and discovered it was extremely hard. I got fed up with the happy poems. The result ended up being this poem, which describes my annoyance at trying to write a happy poem. Yeah. (-_-,) I'm pathetic.
More easily read and seen in books
Trying to write one filled with joy
Is enough to do in any girl or boy
Easily smiles turn into frowns
All light disappears and darkness abounds
Harder to write of happiness and cheer
When what lies in your heart is darkness and fear
I wrote two happy poems and discovered it was extremely hard. I got fed up with the happy poems. The result ended up being this poem, which describes my annoyance at trying to write a happy poem. Yeah. (-_-,) I'm pathetic.
The Little One
A little one lights on a tree
Then flies away, fast and free
Small and strong, hard to catch
Why can’t the little one be me?
A small cage without a latch
Never trying to be held fast
Not a captive, always out
Why can’t the little one be me?
Everywhere, all about
One can never begin to doubt
That life is better left be
Why can’t the little one be me?
Why can people only see,
What they have, not what could be?
Better to know and be out of a home
Why can’t the little one be me?
Then flies away, fast and free
Small and strong, hard to catch
Why can’t the little one be me?
A small cage without a latch
Never trying to be held fast
Not a captive, always out
Why can’t the little one be me?
Everywhere, all about
One can never begin to doubt
That life is better left be
Why can’t the little one be me?
Why can people only see,
What they have, not what could be?
Better to know and be out of a home
Why can’t the little one be me?
Songs for the Sun
Songs for the sun
Begin every dawn
A melody for the free
Forever with me
My heartbeat and thine
Always intertwine
No matter what I say
Together, you and I
Smiles in the rain
Throughout the joy and pain
No matter when
Night begins
Songs for the sun
Begin every dawn
Begin every dawn
A melody for the free
Forever with me
My heartbeat and thine
Always intertwine
No matter what I say
Together, you and I
Smiles in the rain
Throughout the joy and pain
No matter when
Night begins
Songs for the sun
Begin every dawn
Thursday, March 8, 2012
I See Them, They Don't See Me
Read this poem and then re-read it. It completely changes.
I hear their laughs, I see them play
I watch them every single day
I see them, they don’t see me
I sit here everywhere they turn
I wait and watch and begin to learn
I see them, they don’t see me
I give shelter and protect from harm
I even help the poor keep warm
I see them, they don’t see me
They do not notice when I get sick
I, for that, break their brick
I see them, they don’t see me
They, one day, will begin to learn
I’ve been wronged at every turn
I see them, they don’t see me
I feel their cut, I feel their hurt
I even eat their kicked up dirt
I see them, they don’t see me
I watch them wherever they go
They can not escape, and now they know
I see them, they don’t see me
They can not run or try to hide
I am always by their side
I see them, they don’t see me
They will regret their big mistake
They will die, it will be too late
I see them, they don’t see me
I hope they notice before their end
I’ve always been supporting them
I see them, they don’t see me
I AM THEIR LIVING TREE
I was on stanza six when my friend looked over and was shocked by how much I had already written. This is the conversation that ensued.
L: "You wrote that much in five minutes?"
Me: "It's been more like ten... Five would have been crazy."
L: "Still! They're long stanzas!"
Me:"...No?"
I hear their laughs, I see them play
I watch them every single day
I see them, they don’t see me
I sit here everywhere they turn
I wait and watch and begin to learn
I see them, they don’t see me
I give shelter and protect from harm
I even help the poor keep warm
I see them, they don’t see me
They do not notice when I get sick
I, for that, break their brick
I see them, they don’t see me
They, one day, will begin to learn
I’ve been wronged at every turn
I see them, they don’t see me
I feel their cut, I feel their hurt
I even eat their kicked up dirt
I see them, they don’t see me
I watch them wherever they go
They can not escape, and now they know
I see them, they don’t see me
They can not run or try to hide
I am always by their side
I see them, they don’t see me
They will regret their big mistake
They will die, it will be too late
I see them, they don’t see me
I hope they notice before their end
I’ve always been supporting them
I see them, they don’t see me
I AM THEIR LIVING TREE
I was on stanza six when my friend looked over and was shocked by how much I had already written. This is the conversation that ensued.
L: "You wrote that much in five minutes?"
Me: "It's been more like ten... Five would have been crazy."
L: "Still! They're long stanzas!"
Me:"...No?"
Begins to Tear
War, peace
Hope, despair
Time flies by
And begins to tear
Dark, light
Brave, fear
I see them
I hear their tears
Slave, free
Smile, frown
Watch life turn
Upside down
Fire, water
Lungs, bone
Nothing understood
Completely alone
Hate, love
Heart, brain
Try real hard
To prevent the strain
Doubt, faith
God, suspect
No one belongs
To their own sect
I think I write too much poetry in my spare time. (^_^,)
Hope, despair
Time flies by
And begins to tear
Dark, light
Brave, fear
I see them
I hear their tears
Slave, free
Smile, frown
Watch life turn
Upside down
Fire, water
Lungs, bone
Nothing understood
Completely alone
Hate, love
Heart, brain
Try real hard
To prevent the strain
Doubt, faith
God, suspect
No one belongs
To their own sect
I think I write too much poetry in my spare time. (^_^,)
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
The Light
I wrote this poem for English last year. It isn't my best. And PLEASE don't correct my grammar, I did it that way on purpose. (^_^)
i ran as far as i could go
tired and about to fail
i ran through the long fallen snow
tired through strong hard hail
as soon as i was about to give up
i found a place to rest my head
as soon as i drained the last of my cup
i found a warm soft bed
it looked like a place out of a dream
and by it a person chilled to the bone
it looked like a place hardly seen
and by it a person completely alone
i asked her where she was headed
in this dark dark night
i asked her if she was lonely
in this dim dim light
she said she wanted to go inside
and i held the small delicate key
she said she didnt want the cut that was wide
and i had a way to heal it freely
i helped her off of those cold steps
i helped her out of that dark night
i ran as far as i could go
tired and about to fail
i ran through the long fallen snow
tired through strong hard hail
as soon as i was about to give up
i found a place to rest my head
as soon as i drained the last of my cup
i found a warm soft bed
it looked like a place out of a dream
and by it a person chilled to the bone
it looked like a place hardly seen
and by it a person completely alone
i asked her where she was headed
in this dark dark night
i asked her if she was lonely
in this dim dim light
she said she wanted to go inside
and i held the small delicate key
she said she didnt want the cut that was wide
and i had a way to heal it freely
i helped her off of those cold steps
i helped her out of that dark night
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