Eng III Periods 1-2 | Mirroring Bishop's Poetry by

Poem

amanda_silvestri — 2018-05-18 12:38:14 UTC

Its a beautiful night
The starts are shinning
Creating a beautiful light

I am going to turn right
Where people fill the streets
Having a fun night

The stars make faces bright
As they dance to music
Under the shinning lights

People sang the sun in flight
Voices loud and happy
Oh what a good night

Its a beautiful sight
As joy blazes through
This beautiful night

And there they stand in happy height
Enjoying this beauty
Of this wonderful night
As it passes to light

poem

christo_shiahnian — 2018-05-18 12:41:38 UTC

Oh, what a happy day!
the big shinny sun
shining all on me
bigger the the earth
colliding with density

People go to the beach
to enjoy the nice day
kids and adults looking happy
like in a summer daze
oh summer oh summer
where are you know
can stand how long it has become

summer ssummer
all around the corner
kids in school so bummed bc
it aint summer
dreary kids bc they are at school
look out the window
for a new school

no more school no more school
the kids are shouting to never come back
then the bell rings
to announce that school had past.

Poem

gabrielle_morrison — 2018-05-18 12:43:40 UTC

Poem

jordan_battle — 2018-05-18 12:51:00 UTC

Poem

thalia_castro — 2018-05-18 12:51:46 UTC

Poem (filling station)

bryce_legow — 2018-05-18 12:53:04 UTC

Oh, but it is dry!

This little sandy beach

water drenched, wave-less

To a simple, over all

Blue translucency

Be careful with the jellyfish!

The tourist wears a blue

Water drenched bathing suit

That chafes all around

Like several loose and pinching

And dreadful needles

All while thoroughly wet.

Do they stay at the beach?

It lies under blue skies

Beneath the water and on top

An array of colors and life

Living peacefully

Above and under

A dark blue, quite clear.

Some tourists provide

A note of curiosity

Of certain interests lying

On a different part of the beach

Draping in towels

Beside a widened umbrella

Why the extraneous effort

Why the towels

Why, Oh Why, the umbrella?

Some (what) wind blew over the umbrella

Somebody waters the sand or, drenches it

Somebody arranges the rows of chairs

That so softly lay:

Esso-so-so-so

Goes the wind struck trees

Somebody really loves the beach.

poem

cameron_ferrulo — 2018-05-18 13:03:05 UTC

The day is long
I am writing this poem
im doing this wrong
you hate but you don't know them
how we is
how we live
we like to keep it lit

onward and upward
on our way up
looking around
looking for sound'
we find it
we like to keep it lit

try not to die
live our own life
with our friends we will ride
don't fall on to the knife
looking for it
we like to keep it lit

Poem filling station

katherine_berube — 2018-05-18 13:08:08 UTC

Oh, but it is beautiful!

—this little sweet puppy,

Water resist smooth

to a funny, over-all

black coat.

Be careful with the tail!

he wears a clean,

water-soaked monkey suit

that slide under the arms,

and several quick

and his owner assist him

(it’s a family with him),

all quite thoroughly perfect.

Do they live in the house?

It has a small porch

behind the house, and on it

a set of trees and plants-

Fit perfectly

on the east side

It is quite comfy.

Mirror of " One Art"

carter_zwick — 2018-05-18 13:10:13 UTC

The art of winning is hard to master;

so many things seem filled with disaster

to win to win, with no disaster.

lose something every day. Win at night,

whatever you do, just fight.

The art of winning will always be hard to master.

Don't practice losing farther, or losing faster:
Practice till no disaster.

Try and try to get to that day when you can master a task with no disaster.

I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or

next-to-last, of three loved houses went.

The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,

some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.

I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.

—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture

I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident

the art of losing’s not too hard to master

though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

Poem

raheem_salmon — 2018-05-18 13:13:17 UTC

Mirroring Bishops Poetry

hannah_jones4 — 2018-05-18 13:33:20 UTC

Mirroring Bishop's Poetry

shalia_moscat — 2018-05-18 13:34:00 UTC

The night is the magical time of darkness, the period of time when the worlds asleep, and when the air fills with sudden harshness.

Nevertheless, the busy city thrives in this sharpness. Street by street the city-people move in leap. The night is the magical time of darkness.

Oh, how the subway trains are so parlous. Continuing to move like dirty mops that sweep, leaving behind people too lead-footed it can't harness.

Although they're lonesome, they meet someone who's harmless. Developing fondness before the opening train doors beep. The night is the magical time of darkness.

Sadly, the two love birds worlds become starless. A love story, that frequently tends to creep. Who would've known that the night is heartless.

The night can be gifting and yet so artless. For it can last forever and end steep. After-all, the night is a magical time of darkness. And the lights of inspiration have begun to garnish.

Poem

alfredo_hurtado — 2018-05-18 13:34:37 UTC

The sun comes up day and night
I look outside to such delight
The stars are shining, oh so bright
What a day of such insight

Rain seems to come and go
And no one seems to know
Why the rain comes,
but when it does its a sign of love
because art is a disaster

Poem

nicolas_diaz — 2018-05-18 13:34:42 UTC

Don't feel bad
Don't feel bad if things go wrong
Don't feel bad if your wait is long
For life will never be the same for you
if things are old they will become new
Don't feel bad on any blame
because life will never remain the same
life is just an unknown name

Poem

jamal_cooney — 2018-05-18 13:35:29 UTC

I lose a lot
I lose a little
Sometimes I lose to win

Losing isn't always bad
It may open other opportunities along the way

I lose friends
Whose to say they were good friends anyway
I lose time when I sit around on my behind doing nothing

I lose a lot
I lose a little
Sometimes I lose to win

Mirroring Bishop's Poetry

jake_goldman — 2018-05-18 13:35:52 UTC

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster,
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

- Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

poem

justin_luehrs — 2018-05-18 13:36:36 UTC

It is easy to master losing stuff.
So many things that are important can be so easily lost.

People lose stuff everyday. You lose car keys, homework, phone chargers. It is easy to master losing stuff.

After losing small things get used to losing larger things. None of these things will matter to you eventually.

I lost pictures of me and my friends. I also lost birthday cards. It is easy to master losing stuff.

I lost my childhood house. I lost some money. I miss that stuff but can live without it.

I have also lost friends along the way. It is easy to master losing stuff.

poem

theodore_lucas — 2018-05-18 13:37:32 UTC

The day feels long
I am writing this poem
I'm singing this song
Don't know my story but know my name
There is a face behind the fame

Onward and upward
All the way up
I'm sippin I'm slurpin
This drink in my cup
We live We lit
It is what it is

I'm playing my game
You can't duplicate
You see an image
The man in the frame
Don't fall for the screen
The smoke or the chains
There is a face behind the fame

Poem

isabella_perez — 2018-05-18 13:49:13 UTC

Poem

veronica_panzac — 2018-05-18 13:51:51 UTC

poem

taylor_bardar — 2018-05-18 13:58:00 UTC

Oh, but it is soft!

This little sandy beach

water drenched, wave-less

To a simple, over all

Blue translucency

Be careful with the jellyfish!

The tourist wears a blue

Water drenched bathing suit

That chafes all around

Like several loose and pinching

And dreadful needles

All while thoroughly wet.

Do they stay at the beach?

It lies under blue skies

Beneath the water and on top

An array of colors and life

Living peacefully

Above and under

A dark blue, quite clear.

Some tourists provide

A note of curiosity

Of certain interests lying

On a different part of the beach

Draping in towels

Beside a widened umbrella

Why the extraneous effort

Why the towels

Why, Oh Why, the umbrella?

Some (what) wind blew over the umbrella

Somebody waters the sand or, drenches it

Somebody arranges the rows of chairs

That so softly lay:

Esso-so-so-so

Goes the wind struck trees

Somebody really loves the

Poem

raquel_morales — 2018-05-18 14:55:13 UTC

Life is pure
and also a blur.
So laugh harder,
and smile brighter!

Give everyone a second chance,
and have a rain dance.
and don't forget
to have a duet!

Start to be proud,
scream out loud.
Be like a clown,
and don't look down.

poem

nicholas_ferraro1 — 2018-05-18 15:03:53 UTC

The waves stream along my toes. The delicate sea splashes over my nose. The sand was agreeable under my feet,
Precisely where the sea and it choose to meet. The water climbed and concealed around my shin.
The salt water desensitizing against the skin. A shell floated, got in the tide, A minor crab uncontrolled inside.
The water floated up to my hips, A million kisses from the sea's lips.
A delicate touch from the dark blue, Despite the fact that it would've been exceptional in the event that it was from you...
The water concealed around my midriff. A thousand modest fingers around me bound. The skyline calls, it allures me. Out towards it, over the ocean.

Poem

nicole_guerriero — 2018-05-18 20:53:56 UTC

The sand on the shore
Sand in the ocean
Sand on the floor.

It is hot and sunny today
It is good to go outside
You should go in the water and play.

It's a hot summer day
Walk on the sand
Screaming and laughing all day

Go out and eat some ice cream
Chase after the seagulls
Lay out and go tan

Poem

jordan_battle — 2018-05-19 00:02:30 UTC

Life is very tough
but that is just how it goes.
So you have to overcome your fear,
And travel down that road

The road is very difficult,
so it's not an easy task.
You will have temptations,
but just focus on that bag.

The road to success is in your vision,
evil awaits waiting for your failure.
The devil is a lie,
he might need his inhaler.

You have made it,
and that's just the way life goes.
Like Lil Uzi,
20 more min until I'm home.

Poem

tyler_lopez1 — 2018-05-20 17:41:24 UTC

Be very happy.
You will only live this life once,
why waste time being sad?
You shouldn't make your life bad when you could just be glad.

Today will be a great day.
I know it will be because I pray.
Happiness is ever lasting.

My happiness can never die.
For that reason you will never see me cry. Never lose happiness.

Poem

dylan_koodie — 2018-05-20 19:29:16 UTC

Life is crazy
I have been thinking about it lately
All these tragedies are happening
And trump says the news be faking

But life will get better
Just put your mind to that cheddar
Let the dry days get wetter
And show everyone your a go getter

Don't let anything stop you
Just dive in like a pool
Stop showing off to make you cool
Just stay low and be humle.
- Big Boolin "Koodie"

Peom

donald_mccarthy — 2018-05-21 12:19:48 UTC

Society is against you
The enemy is the people
Yes it is true

The unhealthy grasp it has on the youth
can destroy the innocents
and cause kids to hide the truth

Children constantly trying to follow there mentors
But the mentors preach the wrong way to live
Rapping about shooting guns and banging hors.

Our only hope to save the youth
is to come together with no excuse
Parents, please raise them right before they go into the world
or they'll end up unfurled.

Poem

enzo_dominguez — 2018-05-21 12:21:47 UTC

Dont be sad
life is short
so be happy
dont think about the bad things
think about the good things

Even if yesterday was bad
today is a new day
So make the most of it

Your happiness shouldnt end
But your sadness should.
So be rad not sad

Poem

gabrielle_morrison — 2018-05-23 13:02:55 UTC

Don't live on wasting your time
On things that only bring you down
Cause then you'll always fail your climb

You should never focus on the rhyme
You'll end up all around
Focused on looking for your prime
Don't live on wasting your time

When you're stuck in the slime
Feeling like you were meltdown
Realize that you can beat the climb

When you lose your sense of time in a day, stuck out in the rain about to drown
Don't live on wasting your time

I once did something that felt like a crime
expecting to receive the crown
Until I realized that it was a loose rock on the climb

Once you escape the grime
and your success is renown
Don't live on wasting your time
Get up and finish your climb

Poem

halle_spicer — 2018-05-29 12:36:30 UTC

Night drives are a safe haven

A place to decompress

A space to be alone

My mind wanders,

Just as the car does

The drivers seat is a glove

Fitting the body perfectly

Flashing lights like fireflies

Illuminate the night

The windows are flowers,

Best when they're open.

The music is a baby's cry

Loud and keeping one awake late at night

Uneasy souls lurk like shadows

Stray cats meander like rivers.

I am a bird,

Free and content

I navigate the streets,

No destination in mind,

Just enjoying the ride