As the bitter winter comes to an end, I’m stuck in school, cannot focus a bit. All I want is the pool and my boyfriend. Homework makes me so tired I want to quit. The windows are so distracting for me. The flowers bloom and cover the campus. My body is trapped but mind is free. The harkness calls but I just can’t discuss. The teacher calls my name but I don’t hear. A quiz in front of me I cannot read. I know no answers, but I have no fear. Only two more months until I am freed, Graduation is sooner than we think. We’ll be gone and at college in a blink.
Up on the ski routes of Tuckerman Bowl With my iPod adorned, also some goals that when I pass a creek to see a pole Owner nowhere but the hills to be found The boots come off, I make my rounds The snow 10 feet, I hope I do not fall Of course I do, create a giant ball I feel as though I'm stuck within a cloud Although my earbuds do still groove so loud I finally make it behind the rock Thats when I catch a breath and just stop The sight astounding and the tunes as well I think I'm at the opposite of hell And thats how I know my Spring Break was swell
The cold, dark days appear Brisk air with sharp eyes. Sound is crisp, but not clear, Everyone can feel the lies. When will that point arrive? I can’t wonder no more The death must come alive So the shells can kiss the sea shore. How bright the rays come The time is no longer lost I can feel it on my skin, some Do I need to pay the cost? Goodbye to the sorrow; Goodbye to the gloom Today is the day when the earth will bloom.
I find writing sonnet is quite a pain I sit staring at a dull lonesome screen But even after storm of thought no gain, Sonnets are useless I begin to ween. The time goes by and still nothing achieved Gaze begins to grow heavy and tired The loss of time I begin to grieve, Lackluster thought unable to wire. The screen begins to dim as do my eyes, Rest of night is slowly slipping away The magic of the sonnet is a lie At this rate I’ll be working through the day I can barely keep my eyes a-lit That’s it, I’m done, I am going to quit.
In exactly 5 months I will leave home, Leave my parents, my friends, the life I know. There'll be new buildings and new fields to roam. Can't forget my coat, there'll be lots of snow. No more midnight TV or burned poptarts. No more meowing cat or comfy bed. And no more parents to have to outsmart. I'll just have to make new routines instead. Maybe I will learn to play the guitar. Maybe I will bike to class everyday. Perhaps I'll see another shooting star, Make a wish, make it to New York one day. I'll soon say goodbye to the life I live. Soon say hello to a new life to live.
Tripping over green rusted sprinkler sets, While the rips of tanned skin reveal red smears. More green fur cushions that fall and offset Fresh dewy smells into the atmosphere. Scratch from a callused paw reminds me more, To throw the worn candy striped rope or risk A never-ending game of tug-of-war. Dusk brings a chilled breath to this cloudless bliss The wool blanket has become too scratchy, The long shadows seep day end evidence Mosquito’s start their biting since the heat Has subsided—lightening bugs emerge. The silvery glow of the crescent moon Means night is beginning to transpire.
The wintry months that start each calendar year Are dreaded times of cold and boundless drear. A coat and gloves worn each and every day We'll face the chill and carry on our way. In March bare trees begin to bud and bloom Until another frost becomes their doom. Some warmer days sprout flowers bright and bold And give relief from weather bleak and cold Small stems of hopeful green break through the ground That summon deer and rabbits all around. While flying through the floral fragrant air Birds sing and chirp as if without a care. We're grateful for the time of year called spring and all of the beautiful things it brings
Various brown boxes cover her floor Suitcases filled with clothes she is folding Piles of t-shirts that still need rolling The dresser is empty, but one top drawer Filled with junk she “doesn’t need anymore” She is unaware of what it’s holding Tears crowd her eyes; letters are unfolding Letters from someone she chose to abhor He left her one day when he skipped town Leaving her the note “I’ll see ya around” Lengthy letters to barely a sentence She shed such tears people thought she’d drown Burning the letters she’s finding new ground She’s done with waiting for his repentance
When warm weather rolls in on soft breezes, and thick sweatshirts give way to bright raincoats; when birds chirp and the strong sunshine teases, and the kid with the best spring break tan gloats;
Students fight the geese for spots on the quad, and beg for classes to be held outside; guys want to wear shorts so they pray to God; for now at least they can say that they tried.
As the last ice on the pond melts away, and as the countdown to summer begins, the clock tower’s music starts off each day; senioritis kicks in, followed by grins.
Undoubtedly the best time of the year, Springtime at Ensworth, nothing can come near.
There’s nothing quite like writing a sonnet While sitting at my laptop late at night Trudging through this ever-so-painful plight This poetry is not like a comet It resembles more like a word vomit I guess I have nothing special to write But I’m so exhausted that it’s alright Might as well have talked about a bonnet Work like this, I might as well run away Because my eyes are getting quite heavy I’m seriously craving a sundae Writing is just another tax levy Trying to stay awake jamming reggae Poetry is to me not so privy
She sat below the tall and leaning tree, Her curving back against the hollowed roots, Thinking, nearly out loud, “Oh Lord why me?” Spending all these years, ending it in suits.
She cried and cried and could not dry her tears, “What now?” she called into the empty air, Minutes beneath the tree, they felt like years, Onto her shoulders fell her neat brown hair.
The gunfire rang like bells throughout the night Each sound giving the man his own salute She warned him but he said, “she’s never right” And now her mind the images pollute.
If there’s one thing to learn from his mistakes, It is to play the game but know the stakes.
As ides of March roll by to eventide, And whiffs of Spring trail off into the rain, The final turn of aged wheels does bide And linger not for use but yet in vain. Sit tight, hold on, stay calm I cannot do. A time before from which I stepped away And with unbelieving wide eyes hold true Certain truths from which I will not yet sway. I sit idly on eve of summer’s tide By and by I bide my time ‘til it comes. I carouse and revel ‘til lammastide. That time at which I find I feel so stunned. A bittersweet end to a joyous tale, I watch the sun set and wait for the gale.
I blinked; did thirteen years already pass? From a tiger bag to heavy backpacks From one worksheet to homework in every class Memories flow like a movie flashback Bringing my dog to the first grade pet show In third grade, doing my very first play Screaming during field day, "Go blacks go" Sledding down the hill on our big snow day From a starting as a scared little freshman Into a much more confident senior I remember when the year just began Now its the end of the year Though I am sad for this school year to end I know a great new journey will begin
As beads of liquid cling in soft refrain To keep composed before they drop and break, His lids do fall and struggle to regain In fear of what will break when he awakes. Why dream those dreams so true to mind and soul, Thought twisted, twined in visual flight, Not bent or swayed by falsely blind control, If only to fall and die when eyes meet light? In consciousness is where his mind deludes, For there he remains victim to restraint, Yet slumber strikes just as fearful a mood In this young man, for his fear still feints. Though light bright shines, in dark he'll find his peace, For there mind finds a fleeting, sweet release.
At the wheel of black beauty, driving down an old dirt road with you beside me. Tickling and laughing, no trace of a frown. Forever you and me, I promise it will be. Turn the music up as loud as it goes. I want to sing along to our song As the sun shines down and the wind blows. This is perfect, nothing can go wrong. On our way to a special place far away. Only we know the location, let's hurry. As it gets dark, with you I want to stay. But I'm afraid our parents will worry. At the end of a perfect afternoon, we say goodbye and hello to the moon.
Well, I just butchered the Fresh Prince Theme Song and squeezed it into sonnet form. Enjoy!
Now here’s a story about how my life got flipped turned upside down and if you care I’d like to take a minute to sit right there and tell you I’m the prince of Bel-air.
In a west state I was born there and raised on playground after playground I was cool so chill, and max, relax I was all day so I would shoot the ball around the school
Then some big guys came near to be no good they started making trouble I got scared I got in one small fight there in the hood my mom freaked out and sent me to Bel-Air
I was first mad but now I don’t miss home. Cuz In Bel-Air I sit upon a throne
He wakes and dreads, detests the day ahead, His eyes are empty, stare at glum reprints. The copies twist and cut until he’s dead, They try to feed. They fail. His mind’s long spent.
It’s sad because of what he can’t amend, From youth he’s been told who not to become. When dead, his soul will free, walls it’ll transcend, To death, this ghastly madness will succumb.
For now, he cycles through routines until, The days arrive with warmth, without the stress. With summer comes sleep, the mind, sleep refills, A mind full, allows the soul to fluoresce.
When dead, his soul will flee, walls he’ll transcend, Until that time, walls trap him; sleep is his only friend.
As the bitter winter comes to an end,
ReplyDeleteI’m stuck in school, cannot focus a bit.
All I want is the pool and my boyfriend.
Homework makes me so tired I want to quit.
The windows are so distracting for me.
The flowers bloom and cover the campus.
My body is trapped but mind is free.
The harkness calls but I just can’t discuss.
The teacher calls my name but I don’t hear.
A quiz in front of me I cannot read.
I know no answers, but I have no fear.
Only two more months until I am freed,
Graduation is sooner than we think.
We’ll be gone and at college in a blink.
Up on the ski routes of Tuckerman Bowl
ReplyDeleteWith my iPod adorned, also some goals
that when I pass a creek to see a pole
Owner nowhere but the hills to be found
The boots come off, I make my rounds
The snow 10 feet, I hope I do not fall
Of course I do, create a giant ball
I feel as though I'm stuck within a cloud
Although my earbuds do still groove so loud
I finally make it behind the rock
Thats when I catch a breath and just stop
The sight astounding and the tunes as well
I think I'm at the opposite of hell
And thats how I know my Spring Break was swell
The cold, dark days appear
ReplyDeleteBrisk air with sharp eyes.
Sound is crisp, but not clear,
Everyone can feel the lies.
When will that point arrive?
I can’t wonder no more
The death must come alive
So the shells can kiss the sea shore.
How bright the rays come
The time is no longer lost
I can feel it on my skin, some
Do I need to pay the cost?
Goodbye to the sorrow; Goodbye to the gloom
Today is the day when the earth will bloom.
I find writing sonnet is quite a pain
ReplyDeleteI sit staring at a dull lonesome screen
But even after storm of thought no gain,
Sonnets are useless I begin to ween.
The time goes by and still nothing achieved
Gaze begins to grow heavy and tired
The loss of time I begin to grieve,
Lackluster thought unable to wire.
The screen begins to dim as do my eyes,
Rest of night is slowly slipping away
The magic of the sonnet is a lie
At this rate I’ll be working through the day
I can barely keep my eyes a-lit
That’s it, I’m done, I am going to quit.
In exactly 5 months I will leave home,
ReplyDeleteLeave my parents, my friends, the life I know.
There'll be new buildings and new fields to roam.
Can't forget my coat, there'll be lots of snow.
No more midnight TV or burned poptarts.
No more meowing cat or comfy bed.
And no more parents to have to outsmart.
I'll just have to make new routines instead.
Maybe I will learn to play the guitar.
Maybe I will bike to class everyday.
Perhaps I'll see another shooting star,
Make a wish, make it to New York one day.
I'll soon say goodbye to the life I live.
Soon say hello to a new life to live.
Tripping over green rusted sprinkler sets,
ReplyDeleteWhile the rips of tanned skin reveal red smears.
More green fur cushions that fall and offset
Fresh dewy smells into the atmosphere.
Scratch from a callused paw reminds me more,
To throw the worn candy striped rope or risk
A never-ending game of tug-of-war.
Dusk brings a chilled breath to this cloudless bliss
The wool blanket has become too scratchy,
The long shadows seep day end evidence
Mosquito’s start their biting since the heat
Has subsided—lightening bugs emerge.
The silvery glow of the crescent moon
Means night is beginning to transpire.
The wintry months that start each calendar year
ReplyDeleteAre dreaded times of cold and boundless drear.
A coat and gloves worn each and every day
We'll face the chill and carry on our way.
In March bare trees begin to bud and bloom
Until another frost becomes their doom.
Some warmer days sprout flowers bright and bold
And give relief from weather bleak and cold
Small stems of hopeful green break through the ground
That summon deer and rabbits all around.
While flying through the floral fragrant air
Birds sing and chirp as if without a care.
We're grateful for the time of year called spring
and all of the beautiful things it brings
Various brown boxes cover her floor
ReplyDeleteSuitcases filled with clothes she is folding
Piles of t-shirts that still need rolling
The dresser is empty, but one top drawer
Filled with junk she “doesn’t need anymore”
She is unaware of what it’s holding
Tears crowd her eyes; letters are unfolding
Letters from someone she chose to abhor
He left her one day when he skipped town
Leaving her the note “I’ll see ya around”
Lengthy letters to barely a sentence
She shed such tears people thought she’d drown
Burning the letters she’s finding new ground
She’s done with waiting for his repentance
When warm weather rolls in on soft breezes,
ReplyDeleteand thick sweatshirts give way to bright raincoats;
when birds chirp and the strong sunshine teases,
and the kid with the best spring break tan gloats;
Students fight the geese for spots on the quad,
and beg for classes to be held outside;
guys want to wear shorts so they pray to God;
for now at least they can say that they tried.
As the last ice on the pond melts away,
and as the countdown to summer begins,
the clock tower’s music starts off each day;
senioritis kicks in, followed by grins.
Undoubtedly the best time of the year,
Springtime at Ensworth, nothing can come near.
There’s nothing quite like writing a sonnet
ReplyDeleteWhile sitting at my laptop late at night
Trudging through this ever-so-painful plight
This poetry is not like a comet
It resembles more like a word vomit
I guess I have nothing special to write
But I’m so exhausted that it’s alright
Might as well have talked about a bonnet
Work like this, I might as well run away
Because my eyes are getting quite heavy
I’m seriously craving a sundae
Writing is just another tax levy
Trying to stay awake jamming reggae
Poetry is to me not so privy
She sat below the tall and leaning tree,
ReplyDeleteHer curving back against the hollowed roots,
Thinking, nearly out loud, “Oh Lord why me?”
Spending all these years, ending it in suits.
She cried and cried and could not dry her tears,
“What now?” she called into the empty air,
Minutes beneath the tree, they felt like years,
Onto her shoulders fell her neat brown hair.
The gunfire rang like bells throughout the night
Each sound giving the man his own salute
She warned him but he said, “she’s never right”
And now her mind the images pollute.
If there’s one thing to learn from his mistakes,
It is to play the game but know the stakes.
As ides of March roll by to eventide,
ReplyDeleteAnd whiffs of Spring trail off into the rain,
The final turn of aged wheels does bide
And linger not for use but yet in vain.
Sit tight, hold on, stay calm I cannot do.
A time before from which I stepped away
And with unbelieving wide eyes hold true
Certain truths from which I will not yet sway.
I sit idly on eve of summer’s tide
By and by I bide my time ‘til it comes.
I carouse and revel ‘til lammastide.
That time at which I find I feel so stunned.
A bittersweet end to a joyous tale,
I watch the sun set and wait for the gale.
I blinked; did thirteen years already pass?
ReplyDeleteFrom a tiger bag to heavy backpacks
From one worksheet to homework in every class
Memories flow like a movie flashback
Bringing my dog to the first grade pet show
In third grade, doing my very first play
Screaming during field day, "Go blacks go"
Sledding down the hill on our big snow day
From a starting as a scared little freshman
Into a much more confident senior
I remember when the year just began
Now its the end of the year
Though I am sad for this school year to end
I know a great new journey will begin
As beads of liquid cling in soft refrain
ReplyDeleteTo keep composed before they drop and break,
His lids do fall and struggle to regain
In fear of what will break when he awakes.
Why dream those dreams so true to mind and soul,
Thought twisted, twined in visual flight,
Not bent or swayed by falsely blind control,
If only to fall and die when eyes meet light?
In consciousness is where his mind deludes,
For there he remains victim to restraint,
Yet slumber strikes just as fearful a mood
In this young man, for his fear still feints.
Though light bright shines, in dark he'll find his peace,
For there mind finds a fleeting, sweet release.
At the wheel of black beauty, driving down
ReplyDeletean old dirt road with you beside me.
Tickling and laughing, no trace of a frown.
Forever you and me, I promise it will be.
Turn the music up as loud as it goes.
I want to sing along to our song
As the sun shines down and the wind blows.
This is perfect, nothing can go wrong.
On our way to a special place far away.
Only we know the location, let's hurry.
As it gets dark, with you I want to stay.
But I'm afraid our parents will worry.
At the end of a perfect afternoon,
we say goodbye and hello to the moon.
Well, I just butchered the Fresh Prince Theme Song and squeezed it into sonnet form. Enjoy!
ReplyDeleteNow here’s a story about how my life
got flipped turned upside down and if you care
I’d like to take a minute to sit right
there and tell you I’m the prince of Bel-air.
In a west state I was born there and raised
on playground after playground I was cool
so chill, and max, relax I was all day
so I would shoot the ball around the school
Then some big guys came near to be no good
they started making trouble I got scared
I got in one small fight there in the hood
my mom freaked out and sent me to Bel-Air
I was first mad but now I don’t miss home.
Cuz In Bel-Air I sit upon a throne
He wakes and dreads, detests the day ahead,
ReplyDeleteHis eyes are empty, stare at glum reprints.
The copies twist and cut until he’s dead,
They try to feed. They fail. His mind’s long spent.
It’s sad because of what he can’t amend,
From youth he’s been told who not to become.
When dead, his soul will free, walls it’ll transcend,
To death, this ghastly madness will succumb.
For now, he cycles through routines until,
The days arrive with warmth, without the stress.
With summer comes sleep, the mind, sleep refills,
A mind full, allows the soul to fluoresce.
When dead, his soul will flee, walls he’ll transcend,
Until that time, walls trap him; sleep is his only friend.