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I keep my paint brush with me wherever I may go,
In case I need to cover up So the real me doesn't show.
I'm so afraid to show you me, Afraid of what you'll do-that
You might laugh or say mean things.
I'm afraid to lose you. I'd like to remove all my paint coats To show you the real, true me.
But I want you to try and understand, I need you to accept what you see.
So if you'll be patient and close your eyes,
I'll strip off all my coats real slow. Pleas understand how much it hurts
To let the real me show.
I feel naked, bare and cold, And if you still love me with all that you see,
You are my friend, pure as gold.
I need to save my paintbrush, though,  and hold it in my hand,
I want to keep it handy In case somebody doesn't understand.
So please protect me, my dear friend
And thanks for loving me true, But please let me keep my paint brush with me, Until I love me, too.
-Bettie B. Youngs
A few years ago, I was terrified to talk to people. I used to be scared of people, because of what happened before. Scared of what people would do or say. Then a person who didn't even know me came to me. He became my first real friend. He showed me that it was okay to be me without being sorry or scared. He let me remove my coats. I wasn't scared around him. When I read this poem, I think of him and how he saved me from hiding from everyone, myself included.

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I need to save my paint brush, though, And hold it in my hand, I want to keep it handy In case somebody doesn't understand. So please protect me, my dear friend And thanks for loving me true, But please let me keep my paint brush with me Until I love me, too.

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By: Shel Silverstein
If you want to marry me, here’s what you’ll have to do:
You must learn how to make a perfect chicken-dumpling stew.
And you must sew my holey socks,
And soothe my troubled mind,
And develop the knack for scratching my back,
And keep my shoes spotlessly shined.
And while I rest you must rake up the leaves,
And when it’s hailing and snowing
You must shovel the walk… and be still when I talk,
And—hey—where are you going?

I chose this poem because during elementary school me and the class would always read Shel Silverstein poems. They always bring a smile to everyone’s face. More importantly I chose this exact poem because no one should worry about having expectations for the people that become part of their life. Not everyone can exceed to others expectations and that’s ok because not everyone is meant for the person one may be.

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She had blue skin.
And so did he.
He kept it hid
And so did she.
They searched for blue
Their whole life through,
Then passed right by—
And never knew

This poem implies that people try to hide their inner selves in hopes for approvement from others. This poem speaks to me because I often get caught up in trying to pretend I am someone who I am not; when in reality, I have met others who are the same as me and never knew because we were trying to put up a better mask.

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By: Shel Silverstien

"Who wants a pancake,
Sweet and piping hot?
Good little Grace looks up and says,
“I’ll take the one on top.”
Who else wants a pancake,
Fresh off the griddle?
Terrible Theresa smiles and says,
“I’ll take the one in the middle.”
I relate to this poem because most of the time, I'm similar to Grace and don't ask for anything hard. Other times it's more fun to be like Theresa and be difficult.

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By: Shel Silverstein
Lazy
lazy
lazy
lazy
lazy
lazy
Jane,
she
wants
a
drink
of
water
so
she
waits
and
waits
and
waits
and
waits
and
waits
for
it
to
rain.

This is one of my favorite poems because it accurately represents me. I would rather be lazy even if it's actually harder.

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By: Jenny Xie

Nevermind the distance traveled, the companion she made of herself. The threadbare twenties not
to be underestimated. A wild depression that ripped
from January into April. And still she sprouts an appetite.
Insisting on edges and cores, when there were none.
Relationships annealed through shared ambivalences.
Pages that steadied her. Books that prowled her
until the hard daybreak, and for months after.
Separating new vows from the old, like laundry whites.
Small losses jammed together so as to gather mass.
Stored generations of filtered quietude.
And some stubbornness. Tangles along the way
the comb-teeth of the mind had to bite through, but for what.
She had trained herself to look for answers at eye level,
but they were lower, they were changing all the time.

This poem is significant to me because it helped me get through the tough situations and shows that I can get over anything i put my mind to. This is one of my favorite poems of all time

Josie Roser

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Sage Fell                          The Glass Frogs  By: Margarita Engle

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Sage Fell                          The Glass Frogs  By: Margarita Engle

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you can't see us
not like those golden frogs
flashing their beauty
because we're not here
pretend we're not here
you can't eat us
we'd taste like clear air
we're transparent
invisible

until night when stars pass through us
moonlight flows into us
we start to sing
we need to sing
we love to sing
sing
sing
sing
sing

This poem reminds me of when I was little and my siblings and I would play outside at night. We would always try to catch frogs and would listen to them "sing".

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By: Justin Wetch
I'd be lying if I said I didn't want you
I'd be lying if I said I didn't wish you were mine
The truth is, you stole my heart from afar
The truth is, you still have it.
You took a piece of me when you left
I had cupid's arrow straight to the heart
When you pulled it out without a care
I said I loved you as I bled out.
Your eyes could make the brightest
Of the brightest diamonds jealous
And your lovely smile
Could melt the hearts of the cold.
I held my arms open to you
I wanted badly your embrace
But you walked on past without a care
As I stood in the wind, alone.
I stood with that pose for a thousand years
I stood, waiting for two to be one
But never did you deign to glance my way.
51
I froze when fall turned to winter.
A statue, standing against the snow
A monument against what love is
I watched couples walk by on the street
And glance suspiciously at their lovers.
Then spring came at last and I
Finally melted, finally became free
I fell to a fetal pose and laid
There for the whole summer.
I saw you walking past as I lay
There, thinking over my life
A new man at your shoulder.
You pushed him up against a tree
And added another arrow to your collection.
I watched as he fell the the ground
I watched as he tried to rise again;
I realized you were addicted to this art
I realized this was your one true passion.
You had no love for the hearts you stole
You only loved the moment of leaving.
I'd be lying if I said I didn't want you
I'd be lying if I said I didn't wish you were mine
The truth is, you stole my heart from afar
The truth is, I finally took it back.

I feel as if I have been in this same situation multiple times, so it is very easy for me to relate to this poem. Heart break is not something easy to deal with and this poem explains exactly how I felt each time I went through a heart break.

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by: Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I- I took the one tell traveled by, And that has made all the difference.

This poem is significant to me because I aspire to be different..my career choice is different, my "group" is different, and I am different. I have always loved this poem and it is also significant to me because it is my mother's all time favorite.

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By: Bhumika Singh

I am in chaos
and yet feel calm
For I have found
the tool to soothe
my mess.

I chose this poem because it shows that no matter what obstacle or hard time may come in your way, you must find a way to let go of the pain and discouragement and empower yourself to overcome. Whether it is just going on a walk when you are frustrated or repeating "it's all going to be okay" when you feel as though the world is falling apart around you--Keep your chin up, stay strong, and move on.

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By: Edgar Guest

Is anybody happier because you passed his way?
Does anyone remember that you spoke to him today?
This day is almost over, and its toiling time is through;
Is there anyone to utter now a kindly word of you?

Did you give a cheerful greeting to the friend who came along?
Or a churlish sort of "Howdy" and then vanish in the throng?
Were you selfish pure and simple as you rushed along the way,
Or is someone mighty grateful for a deed you did today?

Can you say tonight, in parting with the day that's slipping fast,
That you helped a single brother of the many that you passed?
Is a single heart rejoicing over what you did or said;
Does a man whose hopes were fading now with courage look ahead?

Did you waste the day, or lose it, was it well or sorely spent?
Did you leave a trail of kindness or a scar of discontent?
As you close your eyes in slumber do you think that God would say,
You have earned one more tomorrow by the work you did today?

I chose this poem because it makes me think or wonder more if I have done enough for someone today or everyday. Tomorrow is not promised or can't be changed, but the actions I make and the way I treat people can.

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By: Rupi Kaur

I do not want to have you to fill the empty parts of me
I want to be full on my own
I want to be so complete
I could light a whole city and then
I want to have you cause the two of us combined could set it on fire

I chose this poem because it describes how being in a relationship does not mean one can not be independent. It shows that just because someone is with someone else does not mean he needs them. One can want something without needing it.

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By: Ms Moem

Spread your wing's,
it's time to fly.
Make the leap.
Own the sky.

I chose this poem because this year is the year I finally graduate. This year is when I start my college life and have to depend on myself for many things on my own. After college is over I will soon start my career and it is very encouraging to own anything I do and it encourages me to do anything I want to and to be happy doing it.

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By: Amanda Lovelace
If I ever
have a daughter
the first
thing
I will
teach her
to love
will be
the word
"no"
I will
not
let her feel
guilty
for using
it.
I just feel as though people, especially women, have a hard time saying no to things. People are easily pressured because they fear hurting someone else's feelings, or they fear something bad will happen if they do not say yes. One of the most important things to learn in life is when to say no,and I want my daughter to know that she is her own person. She will not be controlled by anyone.

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By: 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 favor 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.

I would not say this is my favorite poem, but it is one that I have heard several times. I like the contrast of opposites and that they are both observed without negatively categorizing one or the other.

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by: torn-humanity (Screen Name)

Shame, boy, shame

you carry it around in

your back pocket like

you do with that name,

name, that they’ve given

you. you hide it on

your chest where you

wear your badge with the

name, name, she gave to you

when she saw it on a sign

and thought it was by design.

your eyes, eyes that she

gave to you, is your name, name

like the body that she gave to

you? is your mother going

to die when she finds out

that when she used to see

the sun, sun in your eyes,

that she was seeing the

son, son through the

windows to your soul?

does your body belong to

the name, name that you

have made for yourself?

does it belong to the shame,

shame they can’t read, that

lives on your face, face?

do you feel the pain, pain,

that burns when you paint your

face, face, with all the

colors of the sunset?

doesn’t it hurt to hide your

dodecahedral face, face,

one for every month of the year?

do you pray for your

saving grace, grace, for a

day when you wake up

and they all understand you?

doesn’t it hurt, hurt

when you know all of

this has to be true?

does it feel like

like you’ve somehow dented

and tarnished your

name,

name?

can you feel it in your

pain,

pain?

can you hear it in your

name,

Name?

I chose this poem because it represents one carrying around shame and a tarnished reputation and how one is not affected by carrying around the weight of their shame. And I feel as if it relates to many people because everyone carries around a bit of shame in their pockets.

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By: Paul Laurence Dunbar
I had not known before
Forever was so long a word.
The slow stroke of the clock of time
I had not heard.

‘Tis hard to learn so late;
It seems no sad heart really learns,
But hopes and trusts and doubts and fears,
And bleeds and burns.

The night is not all dark,
Nor is the day all it seems,
But each may bring me this relief—
My dreams and dreams.

I had not known before
That Never was so sad a word,
So wrap me in forgetfulness—
I have not heard.

I chose this poem because it represents the strength of words and shows that words can be incredibly long and sad. It demonstrates that words have a significant amount of power in one's life and can cause many emotions. These particular words, forever and never, are opposites, and, when one does not realize the weight of these words, they can cause a great deal of emotions, in this case, heartbreak

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By:
Christina Rossetti

Sonnets are full of love, and this my tome
Has many sonnets: so here now shall be
One sonnet more, a love sonnet, from me
To her whose heart is my heart’s quiet home,
To my first Love, my Mother, on whose knee
I learnt love-lore that is not troublesome;
Whose service is my special dignity,
And she my loadstar while I go and come
And so because you love me, and because
I love you, Mother, I have woven a wreath
Of rhymes wherewith to crown your honored name:
In you not fourscore years can dim the flame
Of love, whose blessed glow transcends the laws
Of time and change and mortal life and death.

I chose this poem because it shows the love one can have in a mother. It shows the strength a mother has. My mother is my best friend and as said in the poem, my first love.

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By: Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

I chose this poem because I too would like to take the road not taken but I typically take the easier route. The road not taken will be more challenging but in the end the risk to reward is far greater than the easier path with no reward.

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By: Shel Silverstein

Draw a crazy picture,

Write a nutty poem,

Sing a mumble-gumble song,

Whistle through your comb.

Do a loony-goony dance

‘Cross the kitchen floor,

Put something silly in the world

That ain’t been there before.

I chose this poem because it represents the idea that sometimes one just has to let themselves go. One needs to be creative and bring some good into the world. It is not always about being serious and getting stuff done, sometimes it is about being yourself. If one brings his happiness into the world it could make some else happy too.

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By: Atticus (screen name)
Sticks and stones
will build your thrones
but love
lives ever after

I chose this poem because it has a special meaning behind it, which is that you can have all these tangible and nice things and think you are winning; however, someone with love will have it even after the tangible items are gone. So, who is really winning

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By: Shel Silverstein

Once there was a tree....
and she loved a little boy.
And everyday the boy would come
and he would gather her leaves
and make them into crowns
and play king of the forest.
He would climb up her trunk
and swing from her branches
and eat apples.
And they would play hide-and-go-seek.
And when he was tired,
he would sleep in her shade.
And the boy loved the tree....
very much.
And the tree was happy.
But time went by.
And the boy grew older.
And the tree was often alone.
Then one day the boy came to the tree
and the tree said, "Come, Boy, come and
climb up my trunk and swing from my
branches and eat apples and play in my
shade and be happy."
"I am too big to climb and play" said
the boy.
"I want to buy things and have fun.
I want some money?"
"I'm sorry," said the tree, "but I
have no money.
I have only leaves and apples.
Take my apples, Boy, and sell them in
the city. Then you will have money and
you will be happy."
And so the boy climbed up the
tree and gathered her apples
and carried them away.
And the tree was happy.
But the boy stayed away for a long time....
and the tree was sad.
And then one day the boy came back
and the tree shook with joy
and she said, "Come, Boy, climb up my trunk
and swing from my branches and be happy."
"I am too busy to climb trees," said the boy.
"I want a house to keep me warm," he said.
"I want a wife and I want children,
and so I need a house.
Can you give me a house ?"
" I have no house," said the tree.
"The forest is my house,
but you may cut off
my branches and build a
house. Then you will be happy."
And so the boy cut off her branches
and carried them away
to build his house.
And the tree was happy.
But the boy stayed away for a long time.
And when he came back,
the tree was so happy
she could hardly speak.
"Come, Boy," she whispered,
"come and play."
"I am too old and sad to play,"
said the boy.
"I want a boat that will
take me far away from here.
Can you give me a boat?"
"Cut down my trunk
and make a boat," said the tree.
"Then you can sail away...
and be happy."
And so the boy cut down her trunk
and made a boat and sailed away.
And the tree was happy
... but not really.
And after a long time
the boy came back again.
"I am sorry, Boy,"
said the tree," but I have nothing
left to give you -
My apples are gone."
"My teeth are too weak
for apples," said the boy.
"My branches are gone,"
said the tree. " You
cannot swing on them - "
"I am too old to swing
on branches," said the boy.
"My trunk is gone, " said the tree.
"You cannot climb - "
"I am too tired to climb" said the boy.
"I am sorry," sighed the tree.
"I wish that I could give you something....
but I have nothing left.
I am just an old stump.
I am sorry...."
"I don't need very much now," said the boy.
"just a quiet place to sit and rest.
I am very tired."
"Well," said the tree, straightening
herself up as much as she could,
"Well, an old stump is good for sitting and resting
Come, Boy, sit down. Sit down and rest."
And the boy did.
And the tree was happy.

This is my favorite poem because it reminds me of my childhood. I read this a million times when I was younger. Also, I think this poem captures many of the characteristics of life, the positives and negatives, and love. This poem has a great message to teach all of its reader, whether that be children or adults.

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We fight, yell, and we scream,
but yet we tackle everything as a team.
I love you, you are my brother;
we share so much more than just a mother.

A smile, our hair, and our eyes.
With every mistake comes more tries.
We are so different but so the same.
We share so much more than just a last name.

You are my brother; I love you so much.
I lean on you, like a crutch.
For you, I'd do anything.
Together, we are insane.

This poem is my favorite because for so long I was an only child. Almost three years ago my life was changed forever. I was blessed with a crazy and loving baby brother who will

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By: John Green

So I walked back to my room and collapsed on the bottom bunk, thinking that if people were rain, I was drizzle and she was a hurricane

I chose this poem from the book, Looking for Alaska by John Green. I have read this book many times and each time I get to look at the story a different way. I believe that this line from the book has a big impact and helps get across Pudge's feelings for Alaska.

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By: Olivia B.

She stood on the bridge
In silence and fear
For the demons of darkness
Had driven her here

They cut her heart
Right out of her chest
Making her believe
That the demons knew best

They were always there
Sometimes just out of sight
Waiting in the background
Till the time was right

These demons were destructive
Knocking down the life she knew
Hating everything about her
She hated herself too

These demons can't be seen
But they're far from fairy tales
They live inside your mind
Their evilness prevails

So on the bridge she stood
About to end the fight
Then she stopped and thought
I'll fight them one more night

I picked this poem because I deal with depression and so does everyone else in my family so when I saw this poem it made sense to me and I just connected deeply with it.

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By: Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

I chose this poem because I used to think I had to follow the crowd to be popular. As I have grown, I have changed my outlook on popularity. I no longer follow the crowd, I now take my own path and the people who join are all I truly need.

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Dear Basketball,

From the moment

I started rolling my dad’s tube socks

And shooting imaginary

Game-winning shots

In the Great Western Forum

I knew one thing was real:

I fell in love with you.

A love so deep I gave you my all —

From my mind & body

To my spirit & soul.

As a six-year-old boy

Deeply in love with you

I never saw the end of the tunnel.

I only saw myself

Running out of one.

And so I ran.

I ran up and down every court

After every loose ball for you.

You asked for my hustle

I gave you my heart

Because it came with so much more.

I played through the sweat and hurt

Not because challenge called me

But because YOU called me.

I did everything for YOU

Because that’s what you do

When someone makes you feel as

Alive as you’ve made me feel.

You gave a six-year-old boy his Laker dream

And I’ll always love you for it.

But I can’t love you obsessively for much longer.

This season is all I have left to give.

My heart can take the pounding

My mind can handle the grind

But my body knows it’s time to say goodbye.

And that’s OK.

I’m ready to let you go.

I want you to know now

So we both can savor every moment we have left together.

The good and the bad.

We have given each other

All that we have.

And we both know, no matter what I do next

I’ll always be that kid

With the rolled up socks

Garbage can in the corner

:05 seconds on the clock

Ball in my hands.

5 … 4 … 3 … 2 … 1

Love you always,

Kobe

This is my favorite poem because it reminds me of my childhood. Me and my brothers all running around shooting trash into a trash can or laundry into a basket, always counting down and taking what we imagined at the game winner and shouting “KOBE!” after every shot. I also love this poem because everytime I hear it i’m reminded of Kobe's career. He was one of the first players I started watching and wanting to be like, going to the backyard or balling up some paper and practicing his fade away. I’ll never forget the sadness I felt when he first released this poem and announced that it would be his last season. His last season I tuned in to as many games as I could, to watch one of my childhood idols and favorite players play his last games. I will never forget Kobe, especially his very last game.

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BY LINDA S. COOPER FREEMAN

This woman as beautiful as can be.
She's always been there for me.
Yeah she's my mother, my best friend too.
Without her in my life,
I wouldn't know what to do.
Her heart made of gold, giving love
so freely; can't be bought or sold.
No matter who you are or what you do,
She's there to listen and help you through.
Can't express how great she is to me.
Without her, know not where I'd be.
No one like her, my best friend, my mother.

This poem describes a daughter's relationship with her mother. It is similar to my relationship with my mother, especially since each line reminds me of a memory with her. My mother is my best friend, and she lives up to the lines in this poem. She is there to listen to my friends and I; she is there even when her own problems are far more important than my own; she is there as my mother and best friend. As it concludes, it reminds me of how there is no one like her or the relationship we share. This poem reminds me to never let go or take advantage of the amazing relationship I have with my mother.

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By: e.e. cummings

since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you;
wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world

my blood approves,
and kisses are a better fate
than wisdom
lady i swear by all flowers. Don’t cry
—the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids’ flutter which says

we are for each other: then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life’s not a paragraph

And death i think is no parenthesis

This poem explains why life should not be lived carefully and by every rule. Living in the moment will always be better than thinking every step through. I know everyone is trying to look perfect for college and scholarships, but this poem reminds us that enjoying life is necessary.

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By Shel Silverstein

No teacher, preacher, parent, friend
Or wise man can decide
What's right for you- just listen to
The voice that speaks inside.

This poem is something that I have had to remember through out senior year when making decisions. Just like the person in the poem, I have had to listen to my own voice and thoughts.

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By Shel Silverstein
Backward Bill, Backward Bill,
He lives way up on Backward Hill,
Which is really a hole in the sandy ground
(But that s a hill turned upside down).

Backward Bill s got a backward shack
With a big front porch that s built out back.
You walk through the window and look out the door
And the cellar is up on the very top floor.

Backward Bill he rides like the wind
Don t know where he s going but sees where he s been
His spurs they go neigh and his horse it goes clang
And his six-gun goes gnab, it never goes bang. Backward Bill s got a backward pup,
They eat their supper when the sun comes up,
And he s got a wife named Backward Lil,
She s my own true hate, says Backward Bill.

Backward Bill wears his hat on his toes
And puts on his underwear over his clothes.
And come every payday he pays his boss,
And rides off a-smilin a-carryin his hoss.

This poem is describing a scene where rules are broken and people accept that. Also go one's own way and do one's own thing is expressed, like individuality. Always be true and always be yourself is a theme from the poem which stands out to me.

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BY MARGARET HASSE

Is it you on the other end of the line
hesitant to speak to me, pausing for a moment
to register my hello so you know my number
stayed the same, my last name remains mine?
Though my voice isn’t young as when we last spoke,
don’t you hear a familiar timbre?
Still you hesitate so as not to startle me
after all this time. Dots string out like an ellipsis
in the endless sentence of your absence.
I hear static-filled ticking, then
a friendly stranger mispronounces my name.
Recognizing a pitch to sell something
and feeling foolish, I hang up quickly.
Won’t you ever break your long silence?
Sorrow and anger keep my line open to you.

This poem speaks to me because it represents the long-lasting effects of friendship. Not hearing from a friend for days, even years can make you feel forgotten, but you always welcome that friend. You share a bond from your friendship that should never be overlooked and will always be there for you, even if it is just to exchange a few words.

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by Shel Silverstein
Listen to the MUSTN’TS, child,
Listen to the DON’TS
Listen to the SHOULDN’TS
The IMPOSSIBLES, the WON’TS
Listen to the NEVER HAVES
Then lost close to me—
Anything can happen, child,
ANYTHING can be.

This poem speaks to me because it is saying that yes one does need to follow the rules, but she should also remember that anything is possible.

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By Oren Uziel, Micheal Bacall, and Rodney Rothman

Um... This is a work in progress. So, uh...
Slam poetry!
Yelling!
Angry!
Waving my hands a lot!
Specific point of view on things
Cynthia!
Cynthia
Jesus died for our sin-thee-uhs
Jesus cried, runaway bride
Julia Roberts!
Julia rob, hurts
Cynthia! Mmmm…
Cynthia
You're dead
You are dead, bap boop beep…
You're dead
That's for Cynthia,
Who's dead.

This poem speaks to me because it is a tribute to a great person that we all would like to be like. Not only does he reiterate how this is a slam poem with lots of heart, he also gives the audience a laugh in a time when laughter is needed most.

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by Ms. Moem

They say that we only live once.
I don't believe that's true
As we become different people
Depending on what we go through.
From the day that we arrive on earth
We grow, develop and change
So how can we remain as one
When nothing stays the same?
Some people are enchanted by babies
Seeing magic in all that they do.
Of course, you also lived as a baby
But that's no longer you.
Yesterday's you has gone away
But do not mourn for her
For you're all you can be today;
She's just the girl you were.

This poem reminds me that you do not always have to be the same person. You can grow out of things that you loved before. This makes me feel that you may be something one day, but with hard work you can become a new person later on in life. As a young teen you may have been awkward or not popular, but you can grow out of that and become a different person.

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by Kirsten Smith and Karen McCullah

I hate the way you talk to me
and the way you cut your hair.
I hate the way you drive my car, I hate it when you stare.

I hate your big dumb combat boots
And the way you read my mind.
I hate you so much it makes me sick,
it even makes me rhyme.

I hate the way you're always right
I hate it when you lie
I hate it when you make me laugh,
Even worse when you make me cry.

I hate the way you're not around
And the fact that you didn't call
But mostly I hate the way that I don't hate you
Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

I remembered this poem from 10 Things I Hate About You, and it reminds me that sometimes you can hate the things someone does but love them anyway. Its the fact that the person can do things to you or leave but you can not hate them, no matter what it is they do. Its just a side effect of loving someone and I know everyone runs into it at some point. The hurt and the pain but you find you do not care all too much about your own pain but rather more about that person.

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by John Clare

I hid my love when young till I

Couldn't bear the buzzing of a fly;

I hid my love to my despite

Till I could not bear to look at light:

I dare not gaze upon her face

But left her memory in each place;

Where'er I saw a wild flower lie

I kissed and bade my love good-bye.

I met her in the greenest dells,

Where dewdrops pearl the wood bluebells;

The lost breeze kissed her bright blue eye,

The bee kissed and went singing by,

A sunbeam found a passage there,

A gold chain round her neck so fair;

As secret as the wild bee's song

She lay there all the summer long.

I hid my love in field and town

Till e'en the breeze would knock me down;

The bees seemed singing ballads o'er,

The fly's bass turned a lion's roar;

And even silence found a tongue,

To haunt me all the summer long;

The riddle nature could not prove

Was nothing else but secret love.

I chose this poem in theatre, and I am going to choose it again. This poem speaks to me, because it talks about hidden emotions and love. We all have something hidden and if not then good for you. Hiding something inside and letting it "eat" at you amounts to nothing, and I think that everyone could use that reminder sometimes.

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By Willie Madison

A circle is my battlefield
Where I fight to survive
without a sword or shield
A war zone where no one gets killed
But where dreams are destroyed and some are revealed

Technique and hard work are my weapon of choice
It's just me and the sound of my coach's voice
I'm a soldier with the desire to win
So give me an opponent and let the battle begin.

This poem attest to the will and hope that athletes and wrestlers hold during their matches. I experience many of the same emotions and thoughts shown in the poem when I wrestle. Though not life or death, wrestling matches can crush a wrestler's dreams.

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by
Rupi Kaur

to hate
is an easy lazy thing
but to love
takes strength
everyone has
but not all are
willing to practice

This poem speaks to the fact that people who hate are still capable of love, they must be willing to love though. This speaks to me because I see so many people around me who have so much hatred in their heart and if they only tried it could be light instead.

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The Peace of Wild Things
by
Wendell Berry

When despair for the world grows in me and I wake in the night at the least sound in fear of what my life and my children’s lives might be,

I go and lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.

I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief. I come into the presence  of still water. And I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting with their light. For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

"The Peace of Wild Things" is a poem written by the farmer and environmentalist Wendell Berry. I chose this as my favorite poem because it is tranquil and peaceful. The poem is in first person and explains how during his sleepless night to reduce his anxiety by going to a peaceful place in nature. I see myself in this poem as I often run or take walks on trails to reduce stress and anxiety. The troubles are drowned within nature. This poem attempts to find the common ground between human and nature and how it can play a role in healing the spirits within us.

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Mai Der Vang , 1981

Mid-1700s, Southwestern China

Lightning is the creature who carries a knife.

Two months now,
The rains hold watch.

Statues bury in teak
Smeared with old egret’s blood.

I feel the pulse of this inferno,
Tested by the hour to know

That even torches must not waver.

In the garrison, I teach boulders
To trickle from the cliff.

My fallen grow parchment from their hair,

Calligraphy descends
From their lips.

Infantry attack
But my musket knows.

They scale the sides
Yet I tear the rocks.

I am not wife, but my name is Widow.

Let them arrive
To my ready door,
The earth I’ve already dug.

The poem connects to wanting to being ready for anything that can come. The poem shows how important one person can be in the greater scheme of things. Each person can achieve a lot if they are pushed to be their best.

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circle the same mile of Indiana where I force myself to look

at every dead deer on the road, as if that braces me, as if I believe
it will protect me from losing anything good.

I can’t stop dreaming I’m hiding

my own prints in the snow, convinced
my mouth is a metal trap, a part of it, apart

from you, & when you pull me awake
it’s because I’m lining my body with burrs,

because I’m antlers & talons & I know

the smell of cedar is home, is a ring of sky
I love, but I can’t take it when

you say Only deer, only hawks.

Why is there nothing wild in you
to explain it, nothing killing; why

This poem basically connects to each of our lives in the scenes that it is describing. From the first line about Indiana to the lines about the dead deer, the hawks, and the smell of cedar, this poem might as well have been written by one of us in this very classroom.

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By Terri Nicole Tharrington
Forever we remain oblivious to the future,
lost to the past and enduring our torture.
Forever we take chances to settle our scores,
losing some battles and winning some wars.
Forever praying out loud hoping someone will hear,
forever crying softly but never shedding a tear.
Forever exists behind a disguise,
but the belief in forever keeps our hearts alive.

What "Forever" means to me is that people will often take the chance to get back at someone, or they may pretend to be someone else due to a fear of criticism, or have their ups and downs. However, knowing that you could be with someone you love forever is something to believe in and look forward to.

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By Baseballism
A boy in the stands,
Front row seats,
He sees the names on their jerseys,
The shine of their cleats,
He picks out his favorite,
And mimics his game,
He's got a new hero,
Their swings are the same,
He gets the player's signature,
Collects all his cards,
Then turns on the news,
And forever he's scarred.

Now ask yourself this,
Who will I be?
When a boy in the stands,
Is looking at me.

This poem spoke volumes to me because it reminded me of myself as a child. I remember being that kid in the stands at baseball games and wanting to be like the people I was watching. The poem makes me think of now and how my career is almost over and I see kids in the stands watching me and how I want to be that example for them.

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And when they bombed other people’s houses, we

protested

but not enough, we opposed them but not

enough. I was

in my bed, around my bed America

was falling: invisible house by invisible house by invisible house.

I took a chair outside and watched the sun.

In the sixth month

of a disastrous reign in the house of money

in the street of money in the city of money in the country of money,

our great country of money, we (forgive us)

lived happily during the war.

In this poem, I get the feel that the people in the poem are doing much like people do in the time of war. People will want things to change but do very little if the first to attempts do not succeed. So eventually we learn to live with what our lives have become.

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Making love
Has become 'Netflix and Chill'
While smoking green and popping pills

Sending flowers
Has become sexting emojis
Nobody remembers "taking it slowly"

Quality time
Is a thing of the distant past
We love for a night and nothing lasts

Ballroom dancing
Has become dance floor grinding
O-faces have replaced smiling

We don't connect, we hook up, we
Don't get together, we 'get lucky".

Kissing in the rain
Is now beach party hook-ups
Between childish grow-ups

True love
Before honesty required whisky
Died off with Walt Disney -

Love is dead
And we are each to blame
When we took lighters over wild flame.

Rest in peace
To love, once indescribable,
Now nothing desirable.

This poem means so much to me because it tells me that I am not the only one who carves this great love like it use to be. Rather than what my generation has accepted as love and the normal. I want more than a causal love, I want a great love that consumes me. I don't want to make love causal, it is meant to be special and one of a kind.

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by Maya Angelou
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own backyard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's roots in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

My poem is "Still I Rise" by Maya Angelou. I chose this poem because I've read who she is and what she has been through. In this poem, she talks about the pain and turmoil she's experienced (not in detail) and how she will still "rise" and stay strong through it all. It empowers me to stay strong no matter what is happening in my life. The title itself caught my attention, and after one read-through, I knew I wanted that one. The message it sends is to stay strong and confident even when people believe you are being prideful or when they wish you sad. Although it seems targeted towards African-Americans, the theme is universal and can reach a plethora of different types of people from all types of races, sexes, religions, cultures, etc. This poem for me was almost a wake-up call. It is almost the end of senior year. I want to give up and give in to the world, but I know I must stay strong and power through no matter how difficult it may get.

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Introduction to Poetry

BY BILLY COLLINS

I ask them to take a poem

and hold it up to the light

like a color slide

or press an ear against its hive.

I say drop a mouse into a poem

and watch him probe his way out,

or walk inside the poem’s room

and feel the walls for a light switch.

I want them to waterski

across the surface of a poem

waving at the author’s name on the shore.

But all they want to do

is tie the poem to a chair with rope

and torture a confession out of it.

They begin beating it with a hose

to find out what it really means.

This poem convicts teachers and AP students for tearing poems up poems with analysis instead of just enjoying them. Sometimes we need to just enjoy. I once was so anti-test, that I refused to do "prep." Then I realized these test are so important, but this peom reminds me that art is art and should also be enjoyed.

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by William Ernest Henley

Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate,

I am the captain of my soul.

This poem has so much meaning bedded within it. Last year, as a class, we went through it and wrote an essay about the poem. While doing this we all came up with what we thought the poem meant. To me this poem is about staying strong and pushing through in the hardest times. One reason this poem stuck out to me was because Nelson Mandela said this slew of words is what kept him strong when he was wrongfully put in jail.