Freshmen to be Sophomores

As freshmen we arrived with pride and might,
Coming from middle school ready to go.
Friendships are made and old friendships real tight.
New teachers and new things, so big, so… Whoa!

The year flies by with sports and homework for you
The homework getting harder and harder.
New lessons learned, and lots of things to do.
The learning of pushing myself farther.

Next year as sophomores, we have grown so much.
The many lives our young minds will touch.
-Jamie Bauer

Left or right?

Left or right?

Come left
Come right
What does this mean come left or right?
Come left to danger
Come right to life
Come left to drugs
Come right to happiness
Come left to wrongful sex
Come right to true friendship
Come left to anger
Come right
Come left
What will you choose?
Go left to evil?
Go right to God?
This is life, decisions to make temptations to reject or give in
This is reality, everyone has to make a choise don’t do a sin.
This is great, this is wild, I just wont tell you the consequences
When you go this way you got no fennecs.
Left or right wrong or right you always got consequences.

Sonnet (revised)

Phillip Olsen, predator in the grass
none of my words could ever describe his stance
as he sleeps wasting away the class
slowly being devoured by the ants

the burly lumberjack is wildly pulling weeds
quickly becoming history in the making
satisfying the courtyard of its yearly grooming needs
winning the good samaritan award with his raking

The courtyard is the last privilige that remains
our only place to go and socialize
without this place we would not remain sane
our last day in there we surely will cry


although in completing our schoolwork we never get far
we have made many memories in the courtyard

Formal Poem

Silence! In the shadow of night
Black amber eyed in the lulling moonlight
Carried us by the fate of air
Lifted the wind in the scent of your hair
Casting shadows among the tree
You throw all the stars into the sea
Standing and smiling in dark jubilee
Eyes sift through darkness to see


-- Emoesque

Formal Poem

The memories I have made
will stay will me to the end.
The friendships I have formed
will stand the test of time.

The things I have been taught
will help me later on.
It is time to say goodbye,
I will cherish it all forever.

Sestina... maybe?

Well, this was supposed to be a sestina, but I think I failed miserably.

Real Life Fairy-Tale
Have you heard? There's to be a grand ball.
Everyone's invited, every woman in a beautiful gown.
Everyone's invited, that is, except for me.
I must stay home and work. I'm not allowed to go.
My sisters get to go and party all night,
But I'm not as privileged as them, I'm different.

I help my sister put on her gown.
Oh, how I wish things were different.
I wish I had someone to help prepare me,
Wish that I could go to the wonderful ball.
But all I can do is wish them goodnight,
And watch sadly as they go.

I turn dejectedly after they go.
Then, standing before me: a woman who's a little different.
"I'm your fairy-godmother," she tells me.
"And I'm sending you to the ball."
She gives me glass slippers and a beautiful gown.
But warns me to be home by midnight.

A beautiful carriage drives me to the ball.
I dance and twirl all night.
From my normal life, this is very different.
The slippers, the wealth, the gown,
Handsome men wanting to dance with me.
It's amazing how fast that makes time go.

And this is the part where my story is different
From what I'd expect of a ball:
As I'm leaving, I trip over my gown.
My glass shoe breaks, "Are you kidding me?"
It cuts my foot- way to ruin my night!
My foot's now bleeding, I want to stop, but I need to go.

The clock strikes twelve. Oh, no. Midnight.
Now everything changes, it's all different.
And guess what disappears, that's right, my gown.
Now everyone's staring, pointing, and laughing at me.
I want to get out of here, Oh, how different from an hour ago.
I need to get away, what a horrid ball!

So you see, my life is not a grand ball. I have no glass slippers, no gown,
No gorgeous prince to dance with me, I have no where to go.
Real life is very different, there's no such thing as a fairy-tale night.

Sonnet

The stars shine brightly in the dead of night,
to light the way for all who are below.
They light the sky on fire, ablaze each night.
They sparkle fair and shine with beige and gold.

The numbers more then we believe exist;
I’m bound by eyes not able to truly see.
All stars alight, a sweet and gentle kiss,
a gift from God, a peck for you and me.

Together now, in time they all will fade.
They peek with pink and bright colors of day.
And as your sad to see the dark night fade,
the thought of light gives hope just not to lay.

The night and day each with their own appeal;
in perfect harmony, all just ideal.

Form Poem: Sestina

From the beginning I tried my best to make wise
decisions, but now I can't figure out why.
Everything always seems to go wrong with us.
I wonder where we can draw the line? And how does
it cut us? Strangely, I'm dying to see if you can make
the leap over the void that will create this distance.

I keep trying to pinch this distance
you have forced between us, but your wise
expectations find me empty. You can't make
me change to fit your mold. Why
should you alter my character? Does
everything I say affect us?

Let's find something to carry us
back home. Your words are so distant-
the tragedy of this battle. Does
it finally teach us to be wise?
Or will it just prove to us why
this journey is too long to make.

You left. You're gone too long. Don't make
me watch the end of us.
Could you please just tell me why
all we know is distance?
Tell me why I wasn't wise.
This shouldn't happen; it always does.

I shatter. Does
this now make
me see my unwise
apathy toward us?
Now this distance
is too much, why?

Why
does
distance
make
us
wise?

I don't know why. Now we are wise.
Absence does. Again, we are us.
You closed the distance I hated to make.

formal poem

The world is dark and my eyes never wake
My world is smothered by one great night
Nothing pierces the black not even light
My rainbow consists of one color; black

My ears grew weary now my world is mute
All day I sit in this vast empty space
A gush of wind is my greatest delight
My hair blows around like a spool of lace

My flesh hangs off my decrepit frame
My heart slows more with every weary beat
My skin is thin so you can see my veins
My bones have tons of holes from where life seeps
Every day I move closer to being slain
I never stop moving to my final sleep

Micah Jacob Gerges

This poem is about my nephew Micah. He was born on Saturday at 10:39 pm and he is the most amazing thing I've ever seen.

When I first saw your tiny face,
It drilled a hole into my heart.
And everything inside drained out
Until I held you in my arms.

I saw you and my arms went stiff,
Then my shoulders started to ache.
I never knew I’d fall in love
With the first glance that I would take.

Your tiny hands and cute little nose,
Your sleep-closed but still beautiful eyes.
I said your name, and I could swear
I saw your lips begin to smile.

God’s awesome wonder shrunk into
The perfect baby that is you.

Haiku x10

High tide approaches;
Water swirling, rushing in-
Anticipation.


Hands intertwining-
Looking out with wistful eyes-
The music pounding.


Green blue and yellow,
Self absorbed-in their own world,
Fish dressed brightly dance.


A heartbeat aligned
To the drum of the water:
A swish, swish, boom, boom


Souls blend as feet move.
Ev’rything ever wanted-
Please don’t wake me up


No past, no future
Save the waves come crashing in.
An endless cycle.


Temp’rature rising.
The water dark and clouded-
Yet the sun is bright


Perspiration drips:
A secret unknown by most,
The world in itself.


Where is this going?
Water forever rising:
A swish, swish, boom, boom


Remembering sand-
Water swirling, rushing back;
Low tide approaches.


-Dancing Flame

attempt at a sonnet

Phillip Olsen, predator in the grass
none of my words could ever describe his stance
as he sleeps wasting away the class
slowly being devoured by the ants


the burly lumberjack is wildly pulling weeds
quickly becoming history in the making
satisfying the courtyard of its yearly grooming needs
winning the good samaritan award with his raking


although in completing our schoolwork we never get far
we have made many memories in the courtyard

Rain

This heroic couplet is short but I like it.

The rain pours mercilessly on me,

It tries to blind me so I can't see.

But I will prove them wrong,

With my journey all along.

Everyone will see me soaring,

The rain will stop pouring.