More Poetry: Sophomores = Emo

Pain


This pain I feel,
Will it ever end. A
Constant struggle, War in
my mind constant struggle.
Sleep is my only time
away from the Thoughts
that hound my head.
I need some Thing. to give
me a peace. I turn to
Jesus and I have instant
relief. I do what he asks
and the peace fills my life
I know he is finally pleased
with me. My conscience is free
I have my Joy, my smile,
my old self. I fall into
a peaceful sleep Knowing
My conscience is finally appeased.
                    - Andrew Smith



Wanting


Not having,
but desiring
a choice I
cannot make.
A difference
not given to me
though I want
It so badly, without which
I would die.
                    - Tommy Butcher


I Wonder


Sometimes times I
sit and wonder
If my dreams will come true
What will it be like
When they do
how will I react
Sometimes I wonder
Sometimes I wonder
How things in my life will
change or will they
Stay the same I
wonder if new people
will come into my life
will they love me for
just being me
will they try to
Change
me can I be me around
any and everyone
will love someday consume
me or will I be overcome
by hate will I be too
Late I wonder
          Wonder.
                - Mark Jones




Believe


Make me
Try to believe
Only because i fail
It is your fault with a passion
Dare you?
                 - Eric Martin




Tears


All these tears. Will
they ever stop? The
constant pain and hurting.
Are they worth all the
tears. To live these
days. In pain and agony,
The tears never stop.
Until my time is up.
Standing in the rain to
blend in with my Tears...
These tears will leave me
alone...When all my hurting
is gone...
These tears will finally be away
from me...
                 - Valencia Harper




Happiness


A lot of things in life
Bring me happiness
But through everything
God is the best.
We have our toys
And our games
Everything we want
Even personal fame.
But one day we all will
either live in eternal death or Happiness.
The one I have is God
I don't want that eternal death.
It's my Heaven
Will it be yours?
                  - Scott Witt




Insomniac


Not sleeping
but doing what exactly?
These things running
through my head are...
No, they can't even be called thoughts
Not cohesive enough.
In a strange state;
A state of Nothingness
But I'm still aware...
Not of where I am
Nor of what's happening...
But of the Nothingness?
I lay here: strangest images
and words passing through
My subconsciousness.
What is that I think I see?
'Tis Nothing but a ghost
conjured up by my sleep deprived Mind...
Or is it?
Passing over the hill Now,
after I have crested it
I shall be at the home of deepest sleep
But until I reach that peak,
I must continue this journey
the journey of the Insomniac.
                      - Jeremy Davison

Cinquains (1/28/2010)

A cinquain is a five-line poem with the following syllabication:

Line 1: two syllables

Line 2: four syllables

Line 3: six syllables

Line 4: eight syllables

Line 5: two syllables

To help you further understand, here's Andrew's self-aware cinquain.

Five lines,

Having two, four,

Six, eight, two syllables -

One for each of the lines making

Cinquain.

Get it? It's a cinquain about a cinquain.

The Breakup, P. Reagan

I woke

After she left -

Broken, reeling, hurting.

She left so abruptly, I wept.

I died.

Done, T. Butcher

I've come

To make an end

Of rhyming that is wrong.

Now poets who don't rhyme correctly

Are done.

Tommy seems obsessed with ending his poems.

Song of Nature, J. Davison

Ah yes,

Sweet Euphonies!

The songs of the Bluebirds.

What sweet joy and Bliss fills my ears.

Nature.

When I read this in class, I said "Nature," like Will Ferrell as Bob Goulet in that SNL sketch.

Mourning Song, J. Davison

Oy vey!

My alarm clock!

Cruel enemy of sleep -

I should throw it out the window...

'Tis done.

(Untitled), S. Witt

Before

I go on to

Die, I want to live now

For God; to love Him everyday,

He's mine.

Butterflies, V. Harper-Chambers

They fly

In my tummy

They are there all day and

Night; All fluttering around butt-

-erflies.

Sonnets, Part One (1/25/2010)

I hope these live up to their advertising. There are two types of sonnets: English and Italian. The English consists of three quatrains (ababcdcdefef) and a couplet (gg), representing arguments or statements on the topic and then a couplet conclusion. The Italian consists of an octave (abbaabba) and a sestet (which can maintain multiple rhyme schemes). The division of thought is a bit more vague. Part Two is coming soon. (Spoiler: one sonnet is an ode to the Jonas brothers!)

Form: English (Shakespearean)

Poet: A. Smith

Oh, Marshall, how you should have felt my day

Go down when I heard that I must try to

Attempt to write a sonnet that I may

Give you a chance to give my grade that's due.

You should have seen the rage that came o'er me:

"He doesn't understand the time it takes,"

I said. I could not write of love for Thee,

My mind was full of hate that could not break.

I knew I had to face reality.

I get to work to make my sonnet nice.

I chose the English - what monstrosity,

With fourteen lines my head turns into rice.

I feel relief for I'm near done. May you

Be pleased with my effort because I'm through.

****************************

Form: English (Shakespearean)

Poet: T. Butcher

The sword doth ring and shine as 'tis drawn out

Of its scabbard. This blade shall soon taste blood.

"Foolish it was to mock this man!" it shouts.

The one that threw the gauntlet down doth brood.

For 'tis his own fault that brought him such pain.

Now since he bought the fight with his own words,

He shan't bring this upon himself ever again.

His body crumpled as though by many hordes,

The sword, now sheathed kills no more men again,

For out of the darkness the dead man walks

Coming back from the dead, condemning sin.

The man that killed him doth turn 'round and balk.

I awake to find nothing has changed but

A cold sweat has broken, my arm is cut.

************************

Form: Italian (Petrarchan)

Poet: E. Martin

(Sobriety: questionable)

Once upon the little tree

I saw the leaves begin to give

But before then I saw them live

Then It right looked right at me

The trees then blew long and short

But never again to sway again

And felt the wind end to end

Also giving a good report

There they are gone to win

They play with socks and yarn.

Here they come with the hats on high.

If the team comes again,

He'll be so happy to see the barn.

So come again to see the trees fly.

***********************

Form: Italian (Petrarchan)

Poet: P. Reagan

What a Feeling When Love Knocks You Down

What a thing it is when you lose your love

She walks and scorns and curses your good name

You feel as if you are in wretch and shame

Her love, her warmth, her joy flies like a dove

You want to see, to love, to hug, to kiss

Today, you thought you saw her light from far

And thought, I will never live up to par

You got all excited for only this

Every breath, every step today you take

You resolve to commit for new loves' sake

So you can breathe, can wake, can walk all days

And so you can make more than one hoss shays

Yes, when love throws, love knocks, love flings you down

You won't live alone with an endless frown.

Limericks (1/28/2010)

Believe me: some really impressive sonnets will be posted soon. But for now, try to appreciate this limericks. To their credit, they were reeling a bit from the sonnet assignment: their poetic abilities were a bit taxed.

Here comes a kid named Cob,

Thence once was a man named Bob,

That never knew how to give

He finally felt big

Just because he decided to rob.

- Eric Martin (who must have composed this in a matter of seconds)

There was an old woman named Ben

Who cried when she saw a red wren.

When was asked her own name

She answered in shame

That wren did not rhyme with Ben.

- Tommy Butcher

She woke up before school one spring day

It was late so she could not say "hey"

To her mom who was fun

She liked to see sun

So she said, "I am just making fun!"

- Patrick Reagan

There was a young man from Kentucky

Who persistently hoped to get lucky

And find a cool car

Whose rubber he'd char

But he got ate by his young dog, Bucky.

- Jeremy Davison

There once was a man from the West

Who never was the very best

Then he went to the school

And he learned a new rule

That he could become the smart-est.

- Andrew Smith

I am the man with the plan

Who also has a tan

I live every day and night

Without any fright

That's why I'm the man with the plan.

- Scott Witt

Violence is everything to us.

I'd laugh if you got hit by a bus.

Your brains on the ground-

Your legs we have found.

I'd get weak if you got hit by a bus.

- Christina Jones

There was a man, Saddam Hussein

Was sometime thought to be mundane

Kids teased of his nose,

He shot off their toes.

He grew up and ended to hang.

- Tim Keep

Haikus (1/28/2010)

The following haikus are from my English 10 class. Comment and let me know what your favorite is. (This is very important to the sophomores.)

There's no one to hate.

My heart, much bigger than that

I choose to love all.

- Tim Keep

I live to be me -

The best of my potential

Always to be me.

- Scott Witt

Rolling like the sea -

Or it is flat as a plane.

All is a grassy land.

- Andrew Smith

Pablo Picasso

Considered by many great

But not so by me.

- Jeremy Davison

Ending

An end is in sight

To my Japanese haiku

It is here right now.

- Tommy Butcher

I love chocolate.

I also like caramel

But white is the best.

- Eric Martin

The falling marker

Hitting the ground with a thud

Was Mister CC.

- Valencia Harper

Spring Dream

Flower's bloom, birds fly,

Scents permeate, breezes rush.

I now feel alive.

- Patrick Reagan