Day Two: 2nd Period: Poems
Today you will be sharing the poems you have brought to class. Comment to this "Day Two" post to share your poem with the class. Please remember to include the title and author of the poem as well as your name at the bottom of the post.
This is not a poem but a selection fro the Tao Te Ching by Lao-Tzu, a Chinese spiritual text. ("Tao" means "the way"). I find it to be meaningful to me when I am stressed about which path to take in life...
ReplyDeleteShang shan jo shui
Best to be like water,
Which benefits the ten thousand things
And does not contend.
It pools where humans disdain to dwell,
Close to the Tao.
Live in a good place.
Keep your mind deep.
Treat others well.
Stand by your word.
Make fair rules.
Do the right thing.
Work when it's time.
Only do not contend,
And you will not go wrong.
Hope is the thing with feathers
ReplyDeleteThat perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
Hope is the Thing with Feathers - Emily Dickinson
Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
ReplyDeleteI'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Phenomenal Women
May Angelou
-Keisha Alston
A BEST FRIEND
ReplyDeleteA best friend
is always there,
whether you need advice,
or a pep talk,
or even a shoulder to cry on.
A best friend
listens with her heart
and is always honest with you,
even though the truth
may not be
what you want to hear.
A best friend
knows all your secrets,
understands your fears
shares your dreams.
A best friend
never stops believing in you
even if you give up
on yourself.
you are
that kind of friend
to me.
And no matter what happens,
you always will be.
You are my best friend....
my forever friend.
- Written by: Renee Duvall
-Jasmine Randolph
HOMEWORK OH HOMEWORK!
ReplyDeleteHomework! Oh, homework!
I hate you! You stink!
I wish I could wash you
away in the sink.
If only a bomb
would explode you to bits.
Homework! Oh, homework!
You're giving me fits.
I'd rather take baths
with a man-eating shark,
or wrestle a lion
alone in the dark,
eat spinach and liver,
pet ten porcupines,
than tackle the homework
my teacher assigns.
Homework! Oh, homework!
You're last on my list.
I simply can't see
why you even exist.
If you just disappeared
it would tickle me pink.
Homework! Oh, homework!
I hate you! You stink!
Written by: Jack Prelutsky
-Damonae Smith
-Chameel
ReplyDeleteNever Like This
I’ve held others before,
But it was never like this,
Where my body inhales you
And quivers with bliss,
Where my senses are reeling
From the strength of desire,
And if I can’t have you soon,
I’ll be consumed by the fire.
By Karl Fuchs
HE FINALLY SAID I LOVE YOU
ReplyDeleteAs I looked into his eyes
And found his longing stare
I stopped myself from saying words
That showed how much I care
I put my hands up to his face
To hold my feelings in
I wouldn't say the words again
To show my love for him
The last time I had told him
How much he ment to me
He put my hands away from his
And said to leave him be
I never spoke the words again
For fear of his deep fright
I thought it was the last time
Untill that blissful night
His fingers traced around my face
Pushing hair away
And I was quite unprepared
For he was to say
My heart beat quickly, My head raced on
I thought that I might cry
He looked at me if he might faint
Imagine this strong guy
But never would be more impressed
With anything he'd do
Than when he took that heartfelt leap
And told me "I love you"
~ Author Unknown
KIA RAWLINGS
Touched by An Angel
ReplyDeleteWe, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.
Love arrives
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure
ancient histories of pain.
Yet if we are bold,
love strikes away the chains of fear
from our souls.
We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love's light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free.
-Maya Angelou
-Lea Herman
AS I GREW OLDER
ReplyDeleteIt was a long time ago.
I have almost forgotten my dream.
But it was there then,
In front of me,
Bright like a sun--
My dream.
And then the wall rose,
Rose slowly,
Slowly,
Between me and my dream.
Rose until it touched the sky--
The wall.
Shadow.
I am black.
I lie down in the shadow.
No longer the light of my dream before me,
Above me.
Only the thick wall.
Only the shadow.
My hands!
My dark hands!
Break through the wall!
Find my dream!
Help me to shatter this darkness,
To smash this night,
To break this shadow
Into a thousand lights of sun,
Into a thousand whirling dreams
Of sun!
- Langston Huges
CheVon Miller
Fell In Love
ReplyDeleteEver since I met you,
I've had these feelings deep inside,
mainly when you hold me,
and look into my eyes,
you make me feel so young again,
and give me feelings I'd forgot,
you make me feel so happy,
with cupids arrow I've been shot.
Written By:Andy Hughes
-Tyra Collins
D'Naja said:
ReplyDelete"Touched By An Angel"
By: Maya Angelou
We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.
Love arrives
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure
ancient histories of pain.
Yet if we are bold,
love strikes away the chains of fear
from our souls.
We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love's light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free.
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteAll the World's a Stage
ReplyDeleteAll the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
- William Shakespeare
Jackie Green
Lullaby
ReplyDeleteby W. H. Auden
Lay your sleeping head, my love,
Human on my faithless arm;
Time and fevers burn away
Individual beauty from
Thoughtful children, and the grave
Proves the child ephemeral:
But in my arms till break of day
Let the living creature lie,
Mortal, guilty, but to me
The entirely beautiful.
Soul and body have no bounds:
To lovers as they lie upon
Her tolerant enchanted slope
In their ordinary swoon,
Grave the vision Venus sends
Of supernatural sympathy,
Universal love and hope;
While an abstract insight wakes
Among the glaciers and the rocks
The hermit's carnal ecstasy.
Certainty, fidelity
On the stroke of midnight pass
Like vibrations of a bell,
And fashionable madmen raise
Their pedantic boring cry:
Every farthing of the cost,
All the dreaded cards foretell,
Shall be paid, but from this night
Not a whisper, not a thought,
Not a kiss nor look be lost.
Beauty, midnight, vision dies:
Let the winds of dawn that blow
Softly round your dreaming head
Such a day of welcome show
Eye and knocking heart may bless,
Find the mortal world enough;
Noons of dryness find you fed
By the involuntary powers,
Nights of insult let you pass
Watched by every human love.
-Tyneisha Foster
Broccoli for Breakfast
ReplyDeleteBroccoli for breakfast.
Broccoli for lunch.
Broccoli that's tender.
Broccoli with crunch.
Broccoli for dinner.
Broccoli for snacks.
Broccoli in boxes
and baskets and sacks.
Broccoli for weeks and
for months and for years.
It's up to my eyeballs.
It's up to my ears!
I used to like broccoli
but now, I'm afraid,
its beauty, at best,
is beginning to fade.
It's lacking in luster.
It's lost all its charm.
But that's how it goes
on a broccoli farm.
--Kenn Nesbitt
JOSEPH BOYKINS
Touched By An Angel
ReplyDeleteWe, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.
Love arrives
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure
ancient histories of pain.
Yet if we are bold,
love strikes away the chains of fear
from our souls.
We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love's light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free.
Maya Angelou
-Aysia Lee
To Tyra:
ReplyDeleteYour Poem Is Very Sweet, Especially For Someone Who's In Love And Feel The Same Way. It Shows Deep Warmth And Tenderness! Good Job Fat Head!
Kia Rawlings
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteshanique boyd can you hear my heart the beats are as slow like they never even starts missing every moment second minute when we apart lying in dark haveing anger against a man or boy that was supopse to love me but he love everyone and everything else money cars clothes hoe itches that wasnt even up to part dog face taking my place but you told me i would never be replace you lied every thing you promise not to o you did it anyway but hey when she do every thing you did to me to you dont come running back cuz a real man has fill your shoes broken hearted girl
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteHURT
ReplyDeleteby Jasmine Lightfoot
How could you have hurt me?
Did you know how I felt?
Or did you see, that it was me...
When I was left by myself?
Or rather when you were near..
Yea... I showed my true fears
you ignored my "silent tears"
I figured you had covered
your ears...
But I wanted it to be clear
In which you would finally hear
For my words to be HEARD
rather then ignored, or deferred
And, yea...most likely
I wanted us to be....
If we discovered the you..
Uh huh; then you can look for me...
Cas my hear never skips a beat
so im still wondering
How could you have hurt the best?
When the best was....
Officially me !!!
Huh???
To Chameel:
ReplyDeleteI really like your poem, It's like a cute love story. This poem would be for someone who is falling in love. Keep up the good work!
Tyra Collins
Basketball Poem
ReplyDeleteBasketball is the sport of kings,
From the toss of the jump ball
to when the buzzer rings.
In basketball you have to try your best,
Once you do you'll beat all the rest.
If you want to win, never lose hope,
When there is a problem, learn to cope.
Take your shots with confidence,
Never with incompetence
Jump up for a rebound with all your might,
Don't ever do it in a state of fright.
Ask for help when you're in need,
For if you don't, you'll never succeed.
By: Nick Schuelke
Keith Crawford
Buddy Joe. Love the poem. It makes me laugh and besides -who doesnt like broccolli Right??
ReplyDelete-PRYNCESS (J. LIGHTFOOT)
Music is what makes you move
ReplyDeleteMusic is what makes you groove
Music can be good or bad depending on how its used
Music can make you choose different clothes to wear
Music can make you change your hair
Music can make you choose new friends
Music can make you want to dance
Music can make you fight
Music can make everything alright
Music can take care of you when your alone
Music can make everything feel like home
Music can harm and take away
Music can make you want to stay
Music is the only friend I have
Music is my mom and dad
Music is what keeps me alive
When I feel like I can't survive
by:jackrabbit krjs
Ann Li:
ReplyDeleteSeeing Off a Friend
Li Bai
Green hill across north wall
White water wind east city
This place one do parting
Lone tumbleweed ten thousand li journey
Drift clouds traveller thought
Set sun old friend feeling
Wave hand from this go
Neigh part horse call
(Green hills above the northern wall,
White water winding east of the city.
On this spot our single act of parting,
The lonely tumbleweed journeys ten thousand li.
Drifting clouds echo the traveller's thoughts,
The setting sun reflects my old friend's feelings.
You wave your hand and set off from this place,
Your horse whinnies as it leaves. )
Into the Poet’s Mind
ReplyDeleteWhat I put on this paper
Are more than just words
Its my vision, my pain, the things
I scream out but could never be heard.
The pen that I write with
Has no longer inside it
But my blood that bleeds
My hearts story out onto this
Blue-lined canvas
My mind the various colors
That I use to show people the
Beauty in my vision
Not a vision in visual
But a visual only seen by the spiritual
My hands are nothing but
The slaves of my mind
That’ll forever be until the
End of my time
My eyes the blessing
And curse that enable
Me to see the heaven
And hells of the earth
My mouth… Useless
My art will define me
- Written By Dakiece Jones
Ann Li:
ReplyDeleteLullaby
by W. H. Auden
cute poem, it reminds me of the looks of my child when i sing or read to her.
[ Tyra ] Your poem by "Andy" is great. Its very lovely and caring and makes perfect sense. Like , I mean Who doesn't like to fall in love... Ya noe? You also used good parallel structure. Nice Selection you picked.
ReplyDelete-PRYNCESS (J. LIGHTFOOT)
To Jasmine Lightfoot
ReplyDeleteYour poem was very deep. It showed a lot of emotion and good rhyme scheme. It was a good poem for someone feeling like they should've been the one instead of someone who doesnt deserve them. Eventhough it seemed a little confident " when the best was officially me ", it may not always be that way because not everyone is perfect and someone might just do it better than you can lol!!
Kia Rawlings
To Katherine
ReplyDeleteYour poem is very interesting and detailed and gives me a lot of imagery.
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteTo Jasmine Lightfoot
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed reading your poem, it rhymes from beginning to end. The words itself speaks a lot maybe about you or about somebody else. I can really connect with this poem. I love the facet that it is an original. Keep up the good work!
jasmine l.
ReplyDeletelol u hell up....LOVE U
:)
kia
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteThank You Jasmine!
ReplyDeleteTyra Collins
Carol Barnes, "Consequences"
ReplyDeleteThis is an original composition I have written.
Consequences, Bi-lingual
I am misunderstood by many
People don't even know me
They are to quick to judge
Fighter, free handed
Doomed by the attitudes
I hurt because I have to
I've seen too many downfalls
Whisperer, I hear them
They aren't bold enough
Ghetto they are, with silence
These little girls and their half witted mothers
Days dawn, people fall
I feel as if I've done nothing wrong
Violence occured, I don't remember
I think I blacked out
Bipolar, hidden anger
I am in trouble
I hurt someone again
The judge is shaking her head
Consequences, mission impossible
I try to be nice
I snap too much for a 19-year-old woman
But I can't hear anything nor see anyone
Headphones, escaping serenity
Only way I calm down
Writing mih life away
Damaging you lyrically, rather than break you
Deadly, lethal eye contact
In the ring I am in a game
Out here I am your biggest threat
I dream of killing
Sound, mind over matter
I am the confusion
You don't know what I'm thinking when I look at you
Especially when I am smiling at you
Consequences, there really are none
I don't say that, I say effect
You caused mih effect of damage and so on
Truth is, no one can save your life
Especially through the consequences you make for others.
Dara Sao: This poem is by William Shakespeare called Dirge. A literary device used is end rhyme. I believe that this poem is about someone dying. To me this poem is dark and a bit depressing because he’s talking about dying and it’s almost like his last words before he dies.
ReplyDeleteCOME away, come away, death,
And in sad cypres let me be laid;
Fly away, fly away, breath;
I am slain by a fair cruel maid.
My shroud of white, stuck all with yew,
O prepare it!
My part of death, no one so true
Did share it.
Not a flower, not a flower sweet,
On my black coffin let there be strown;
Not a friend, not a friend greet
My poor corse, where my bones shall be thrown:
A thousand thousand sighs to save,
Lay me, O, where
Sad true lover never find my grave
To weep there!
Dara Sao: @Shanice, I like your poem because music does a lot of things and your poem perfectly tells what music can do to a person's actions and emotions.
ReplyDelete@Damonae Smith
ReplyDeleteI really like this poem because of the tone that it takes towards homework. It really defines my hate for homework as well and how i wish i didnt have to do it lol.