Poetry project

Family Tree

You can map out names,

And branches that grow from a sapling.

You can watch a baby’s first steps,

And the height of an old oak soar.

You can etch love into your heart,

And letters into a tree’s bark.

You can grow old and lose,

And watch leaves fall and branches snap.

You can grow love in your heart,

And with that love, grow a family tree.

Poetry project

Family Tree

You can map out names,

And branches that grow from a sapling.

You can watch a baby’s first steps,

And the height of an old oak soar.

You can etch love into your heart,

And letters into a tree’s bark.

You can grow old and lose,

And watch leaves fall and branches snap.

You can grow love in your heart,

And with that love, grow a family tree.

Mother Nature

A breath of air from Mother Nature

Or maybe a sneeze

Or a gasp

Or a snore

Sweeps the earth like a gust of wind

But when she gets angry

She utters a shout

That shakes the earth

Like a hurricane

Or a tsunami

Though when she sleeps soundly

The waters are still

And the world is warm and at peace

English poetry project

Comparing: Gabriella orsini

They are always there,

We are always compared.

Judging with wandering eyes.

Wondering with thoughts in disguise.

Why? You may ask.

Because they need to.

It's what they do.

They always seem to know

When you don't know where to go

When your spiraling out of control

They just watch.

They say they aren't but we all know

Those are just lies the tell because,

They are always there. 

We will always be compared.

A Dancer's Journey- By: Gina Calzone

A dancer's journey is a long, complicated one.
A ballerina's hair up in a tight bun.
Make your legs as straight as a baseball bat.
Don't forget to keep your balance, or you'll go splat.

Look forward. Not side to side, or up and down.
Do a pique, and turn around.
Shoulders down, back straight.
Get to dance class, now don't be late.

"This dance is your life now, make it great!" Your dance teacher yells while you practice your routine.
"Come on girls, make it pristine!"
You smile as you dance on, not caring about the yelling...
because dancing is not a hobby, it's your passion,
it's your dream.
"Now make it happen!"

Beast

Beauty is the beast 

That clouds your mind

Tears you a parts 

And kills you.

The beat is beauty

That hurts you

And others all around

But is the beast beauty?

Just look around 

And I'm sure you'll see,

The beast disguised at beauty

Waiting for it's next victim.

Poetryyy

Poetryyy by gani

Storm birds

Birds are smart and even clean,

They stuff themselves until they're nice and lean.

A storms a coming, and they are keen

and can sense the rain coming in between,

They flock together and flee together, for the rain is comming,

they dont want to be stuck in the rain

and suffer all that pain.

They take two seconds to run

and take all the time they need,

they are birds are their senses are keen,

they are gone before the rain and feel no pain

for they are birds and won't get washed up in the rain.

The storm is over and the sun comes up

and there are all the birds making a fuss.

Oh wait thats not a fuss, thats the beautiful chirping and burping

of the birds pecking on the plump worms,

filling themselves until they're 

nice and lean.

　

　

　

　

Analysis:

What inspired me to write this poem is first of all I knew that I wanted to talk about about something in nature. Then I thought I want to talk about something that is strong and has to survive outside in the rain, sun, and snow. So I chose to write about birds, they go through harsh climates but after it rains and the sun comes up you hear happy chirps all around. What trouble I had creating this poem was to keep the rhyme consistent and when it changes I made sure that the rhythm was still easy to follow. In this poem I made it mainly about rhythm and repetition with assonance to give it that flow. I wrote "They flock together and flee together" (line 5) not only to show that they are intelligent creatures but also for the structure of the poem with the repetition of flock together and flee together. I also repeated line 2 "They stuff themselves until they're nice and lean." in the last line in the poem. Before a storm on a normal day all birds do is try to find food and just fly around looking for crumbs or whatever they can find. But after it's done raining they have a feast of worms that have risen up from the ground and once again will fill themselves until they're nice and lean. ", Thats the beautiful chirping and burping of the birds pecking on the plump worms." (Last sentence) That part of the poem is a real "lip mover" and you can put emphasis on all of those words. And what I mean by the birds being smart is that they can sense changes in pressure and always take cover before the storm comes and are the first ones to come out and help themselves to what is has to offer.

The Earth's End- Gavin Butler

Fire and Ice- Robert Frost

Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I’ve tasted of desire

I hold with those who favour fire.

But if it had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To say that for destruction ice

Is also great

And would suffice.

 

The Earth’s End- Gavin Butler

Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

I say the world will end by its own creation,

Its own flesh in blood will ground its insides,

Hollowing it from the inside out,

Its gift will scrape away at its flesh,

Tearing away millions of years of progress,

Praying, praying for an answer, only heard by few,

They stand up, but are shut down.

So who will be the world’s savior?

For without a savior, the world will be muted and blinded,

And if it cannot speak, it cannot give back, leveling plains, raising oceans, pulling wind,

And if it is blinded, it cannot see,

If it cannot see, the world is helpless,

For it, as its creations do to it, feed off them,

Their death is its birth,

So who will be the world’s savior?

That is up to you to decide.

For some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice,

But only can its creation be its end.

Whether it is in fire or ice,

Its end will be its chance at life.

 

Poetryyy by gani

Storm birds

Birds are smart and even clean,

They stuff themselves until they're nice and lean.

A storms a coming, and they are keen

and can sense the rain coming in between,

They flock together and flee together, for the rain is comming,

they dont want to be stuck in the rain

and suffer all that pain.

They take two seconds to run

and take all the time they need,

they are birds are their senses are keen,

they are gone before the rain and feel no pain

for they are birds and won't get washed up in the rain.

The storm is over and the sun comes up

and there are all the birds making a fuss.

Oh wait thats not a fuss, thats the beautiful chirping and burping

of the birds pecking on the plump worms,

filling themselves until they're 

nice and lean.

　

　

　

　

Analysis:

What inspired me to write this poem is first of all I knew that I wanted to talk about about something in nature. Then I thought I want to talk about something that is strong and has to survive outside in the rain, sun, and snow. So I chose to write about birds, they go through harsh climates but after it rains and the sun comes up you hear happy chirps all around. What trouble I had creating this poem was to keep the rhyme consistent and when it changes I made sure that the rhythm was still easy to follow. In this poem I made it mainly about rhythm and repetition with assonance to give it that flow. I wrote "They flock together and flee together" (line 5) not only to show that they are intelligent creatures but also for the structure of the poem with the repetition of flock together and flee together. I also repeated line 2 "They stuff themselves until they're nice and lean." in the last line in the poem. Before a storm on a normal day all birds do is try to find food and just fly around looking for crumbs or whatever they can find. But after it's done raining they have a feast of worms that have risen up from the ground and once again will fill themselves until they're nice and lean. ", Thats the beautiful chirping and burping of the birds pecking on the plump worms." (Last sentence) That part of the poem is a real "lip mover" and you can put emphasis on all of those words. And what I mean by the birds being smart is that they can sense changes in pressure and always take cover before the storm comes and are the first ones to come out and help themselves to what is has to offer.

Coquetry

After all there's no need

to say anything

The sun will still set as required

while the birds chirp their tunes

All the young boys still remain wired,

the girls lavished in perfumes

The lonesome thought remaining 

of what will never be 

Will cover up my shaming

yet "colorful" framing know as me

The fears are now reconquered, 

feelings in fain some blues

Aspiration is not inquired 

because to you I'm old news

Apologetic for all this complaning 

but you are an absentee

So please don't keep me waiting 

upon the thought known as you and me

Really there's no need

for all this gaming 

Two Brothers

Two young men

who were just born

dealt their love

with bitter scorn.

When starting to judge

their love of life,

they decided best

to end in strife.

They turned their backs

to face each other,

drew their swords

and shot each other.

And then a man

who was blind,

saw their fight

and was kind

He livened the mood

with thoughts of dread

he preserved their lives

by smashing their heads

As the two brothers lay

in an unjust rest

their loving sleep

was for the best

 

If you don’t believe

this lie is true,

then ask the deaf man

he heard it too.

 

And again, today

upon the stair

I saw the brothers

who weren’t there.

They were not there again to day

I wish,

I wish,

they’d go away.

Ink

         Ink is what keeps poetry alive ,

                  The black blood

            That flows in every poem, 

         It helps to carry on a tradition 

      Of poems written from the heart ,

        And even when the poet is dead , 

            Ink helps keep poetry living

                    By: Matt Stewart 

Poetry

Poetry doesn’t make any sense,

When you begin, what do you write?

Do you have to have assonance?

However that does not meet your delight.

Sustain a certain sound for alliteration,

Do have to make the line’s rhyme?

Maybe, but the wind will talk with personification,

Will the rhyme help the poem climb?

I almost forgot slant and end,

That’s fine; simile is as easy as ABC,

However the end is better to see the trend.

Metaphor is a breeze, but a little harder to see.

Every poem should have strong diction,

It will help build up suspense.

Its strength will help the reader’s depiction,

Poetry doesn’t make any sense.

Livin With the Tides, Take’n Boat Rides - Poetry Project Poem by Aidan Maher

Livin With the Tides, Take’n Boat Rides

Aidan Maher

Carried by the tides

Not a care in the world

Taking boat rides

Lines being hurled

Friends, family, food

Sleeping in late

Man, it’s all good

No one could hate

We wait for the day

Feels like forever

The month after May

School ties we’ll sever

Just come already

Schools a Bummer

I’m so ready

For this year’s summer

Mixed Messages

Mixed Messages

By James Chhit

You hear it.

The voices ring out.

They control you.

You can’t fight back.

The voices are you.

You disagree, but don’t.

It doesn't matter in the end.

Anarchy, democracy;

Nothing matters.

Just stay in your coma;

and let the voices ring out.

They hear it.

They ring out.

They control you.

They know what to do.

They are you.

They disagree, they agree.

It doesn't matter in the end.

Just a shouting contest.

Nothing matters.

All just a game.

An experiment; you’re the dummy.

Just let your voices ring out.

He sees it.

He watches over.

He sees you argue and fumble.

He gave you the chance.

He gave you the tools.

He set the common goal

You failed to meet it.

In the end it’s

all just a game.

An experiment; we’re all the dummies.

Stars

Stars

Life is like a star in the sky
Seen by everyone
Understood by none
Surrounded by everything
Next to nothing
But those who care
Will always look after in spare
The guiding light
Burning bright
Looking over those in need
And supported by those closest to me

Growing - Poem for Poetry Project

Growing

Andrew Beres

Youngest age,

Starting page,

A sprout in the dirt.

Golden days,

Sunny rays,

Quite full of dessert.

Older years,

Lesser cheers,

A bud in the soil.

Darker views

Innocence lose

A light in turmoil.

Strongest time,

Seeing crime,

A blooming flower.

Darkness prime.

Tougher climb,

A conflicting hour

Old age reigns,

The life drains,

The flower withers.

Falling rain

Brings some pain

But the light grows bigger

Being There

 

No matter what, there is always someone behind you.

Someone on your side.

Someone to help you stand.

Someone to make the bleeding stop.

Someone to push you along.

Someone to root for you.

And someone to hold on to.

 

That someone can be anyone,

 You will not know unless you ask,

 Ask who is really on your side.

That someone helps you

So you can in return,

Help out someone too.

So you can be there for them too.

Summer

I love the feeling of the sun

When it touches your back and feels as hot as fire

I love the beach and having summer fun 

When you can sit back and admire 

I love when you can sleep in all day 

When you can have fun all night 

I love the feeling when it gets close to May.

When spring and summer comes into site

I love the smell of swear sun tan lotion

When it gets al sticky on your face 

I love when summer is in motion

When you go to the beach and stare up into space 

I love wearing flip flops all the time 

When you can feel the sand get between your toes

I love summer when it's in its prime 

But not when it goes 

Getting Rich

Getting Rich

Why live off of money and fame

there's nothing better to us than affection and love

not crumpled green paper with a number and a name,

It could be five-hundred maybe even one-hundred

But does it really matter?

It is all but just one piece of paper with a number and a name.

Why do we feel the need to impress others

when we already appeal to so many

The rich feed off of nothing but envy,

Do we really need the money and fame?

A dollar this, a dollar that.. 

When all of this could be so simple and plain.