List poems Written: 1995

Here are two poems of the same style, but different feelings.

Halloween is...

Witches
Devils
Cowboys
M 'n M's
Burglars
Cats
Princesses
Bats
Vampires
Ghouls
Goblins
Headless-horsemen
little faces
funny masks
grin and say
"Trick or Treat"

And the other poem (untitled):

You are...

a mystery to me
a dream I dream
night after night

You are...

a fantasy
like the knight in shining armor
rescuing the princess from mortal danger

You are...

a thought
I have
that makes me soar

You are...

The one I love.

I know that second poem is about no one in particular. I think it was more about what I wanted to find in someone, that guy to sweep me off my feet (and then put me back down because I don't really want to be carried anywhere).

Extended metaphor. Written: 1995

Love is like a sweet red rose, newly picked, with drops of dew drying on the petals. So beautiful. It is placed in a special place, a glass on the window sill, to admire its beauty and life. And after awhile, it starts to wilt, become brown and fall apart. But the plant it was picked from flourishes. And more beautiful red roses grow. More beautiful than the first, more eloquent and sophisticated. And they are left on the bush, for there they grow and survive, much longer, much more alive. The love there starts the same, but it grows, not dies. Each new day is better than the last. And the beauty of it lives on, long after the bitter winter frost comes and tries to kill it. Then spring comes, and the love from the plant survived the hardship and grows again, stronger and even more ravishing than ever known. Love is like a sweet red rose, left on the bush, to be admired and cared for in a free world, not to be contained.

Okay, can you tell I was always an optimist? This poem was about how love cannot be controlled or kept, because it will fall apart without the freedom of all involved. It was also about how even when one relationship falls apart, there are always more chances out there. Don't give up because life doesn't give up on you.

Free Style: Ode to Music Written: When I was in 8th grade

"Ode to Music"

Music is essential for life.
Singers, Drummers,
Piano players galore.
Eighth notes, quarter notes too,
make music.

Singers use their voice,
and band members their breath.
A concert, a game, caroling or more.
Music is everywhere.

Flute, sax, trumpet, drum
Make more music, let it come.
Let the beat hop in your head,
Keep it there.
Learn the tune,
hum along.
Now you shall understand our song.

Okay, I know I wrote this because my friend had a huge (I mean HUGE - she made us ride our bikes all summer long near his house) crush on the drum major from the high school. Nevermind that he was 4 years older and going to college as she was just starting high school.

I did like the theme of this poem and it shows how music has always been an influence on my life. Songs tell the stories that words alone cannot really describe. I don't read a lot of "poetry" these days, but I do listen to a lot of music and hear the stories the songwriters put to song.

Prepositional Written: 1996

Before we met,
Inside was bare.
After a glance,
Throughout is warm.
From hand to hand,
Beyond the world,
In our eyes,
Towards our souls.

This type of poem uses a preposition to start each line. I enjoyed this style and wrote many other poems that sound about the same as this one.

Why am I doing this?

In reading Dana's other blog, I decided I wanted to get some of my previous writing out here, just to get it out here. (Also because Dana has the best ideas!)

Some of the things I'll post here are pieces poetry that I wrote in high school and later in life. I will eventually add some of the essays and short stories I've written over time. The poems usually lean towards hidden desires and explain how little I ever did to express myself to that person, I usually just hid it in writing. Most of the poems don't have anyone in particular as a subject. Read if you want.