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.

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?

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

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?"



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. (^_^,)



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

Olive Rae

I wrote this poem for a friend who is going to have a baby girl soon. The baby's name is going to be Olive Rae.


Now little Olive Rae
It's time to meet a brand new day

Night is gone, sun will shine
Hearts will sing, both yours an mine

Laughter rings like a bell
Singing begins and voices swell

Joy as far as can be
Like fruits we grow fresh and free

With Him we sing and smile
You are a very precious child

Without Him there would be no us
And in Him there is no fuss

Alone

I'm not sure what to call this poem. I honestly have no idea. I was thinking of calling it "Alone".


Smile, the light that flows down from above
Smile, the dark that engulfs the night
Smile, the song that flows from our lips
Smile, the day that breaks and rips

Grow, some clouds fill the sunless sky
Grow, some shears and knives that cut
Grow, some are a pleasure to ones eye
Grow, some have thorns and die

Trust, the thing that holds us together
Trust, the laugh with a bitter twist
Trust, the hope for a better day
Trust, the need for another way

Brave, the child without a father
Brave, the dying knight for hope
Brave, the flower crushed underfoot
Brave, the destiny that will never stay put

Love, we are the heart that skips a beat
Love, we can no longer stand the fire
Love, we need the passion so free
Love, we cherish the symphony

Together, we help and give a hand
Together, we lose the faith to endure
Together, we work with little mistakes
Alone, we fall and thrash and break

I Spy a Raven

A poem I wrote for fun and ended up using in a project for my English class last year. I call it, "I Spy a Raven".


As I ascend into the heavens
From the deep, dark depths below
Above me I spy a raven
Flying to and fro

He was a lot like I had been taught
With large dark wings and claws
In it’s arms was something caught
Soon cradled in it’s jaw

If I were the mouse I would run away far
Running away from the known
I would find a way out of my jar
The place that they call home

But sooner or later the mouse would be snatched
Brought back from where it came
Just like the mouse, they will soon catch
And do with me just the same

"Out, Out-" By Robert Frost

These pictures are my favorite out of all the poem's I've drawn so far. However, if you are one of those people who can not stand even a cartoon drawing of blood, PLEASE do not read the poem. It is "Out, Out-" by Robert Frost. And its my favorite because I normally can not draw hands at all!!!

I split this poem up by what happens since the poem has no set stanzas.








"Fire and Ice" by Robert Frost

This is a drawn, literal, picture of Robert Frost's "Fire and Ice". Yeah. It's only two pictures.


"Provide, Provide" by Robert Frost

For my AP English class, I drew out several poems by Robert Frost. The first is the poem "Provide, Provide". Each drawing represents a stanza of the poem.