Welcome to Cafe Ujima, the best place in town to hear exciting new poets! Today’s featured poets will leave you dazzled, provoked, and reflective. Enjoy the event, and don’t forget that hot beverages are half off. Just ask your server.
1. Please type your poem, and as you type look for opportunities to continue improving your techniques, word choice, or structure.
2. Post your poem in the “comments” section of this post.
3. Respond (reply) to each other by commenting on language (word choice), techniques, structure, or style. Discuss what you like about your classmates’ poems, and try to explain what those choices made you feel, think, or consider. When possible, “refer to the text” as you comment. Please respond to at least two of your classmates.
Thomas Thompson
In Merseyside, UK, the temperature is mild.
It is not too cold, nor is it too hot.
Birds are chirping, flowers are blooming.
In a little town called Wallasey,
A boy by the name of Thomas Thompson
Walks the halls of Wallasey school.
He is 11 years old.
He’s very smart, he’s chubby, and different.
He doesn’t fit in with other boys his age.
Thomas isn’t into sports,
He’d rather relax with a book or complete schoolwork.
He prefers playing league of legends,
To listening to Eminem,
And he’d rather hang out with girls and adults, than boys his age.
Apparently his differences were a good reason to mistreat him.
It happens everyday.
A group of boys bully him.
They poke him,
Call him names,
And even try to strangle him with tie.
He tries to ignore it,
Not let it get to him,
But everytime he hears “fatso” or “gay boy” thrown his way
He can’t help but stop and think:
“Why?”
“Why me?”
“Why did I have to be different?”
“Why do they treat me this way?”
Eventually, it all becomes too much.
Listening to someone else’s words,
Turned the love Thomas had for himself, into hate.
After escaping the boys and running home,
He decides he just can’t take it anymore.
He grabs a bottle of painkillers, pours a handful,
And swallows them.
His parents find him in his room,
His father tries to resuscitate him,
But it’s already too late.
Hearing about a heartbreaking story like this,
Makes me wonder how many children
Have to deal with bullying
And self hatred daily.
It makes me want to be careful with what I say, because I never know,
Who I could hurt,
And who secretly feels exactly like
Little Thomas Thompson did.
“Should we revisit the day we first met?”
Should we revisit the day we first met?
My first impression was that you were weird
I had no clue of our later love yet
When it came up, it was sure to be cleared
It took three days to end our game of chess
I was so nervous when you laughed at me
The winter ball came, and I wore my dress
Blushed when we danced, you were all I could see
The day I confessed, it was hard to do
You were blushing, but said wait a while
One day at lunch, kissed me without a clue
So happy, I couldn’t help but smile
It will soon be time to go your own way
But I won’t forget that very first day
Standing tall and proud
Its mane flows like
A field of wild grass
In the wind.
Gentle but powerful
On the rock cliff of
Freedom, its ferocious roar
Put silence through
The ancient jungle.
Roaming through the vast land
Leaving claw prints behind
Let them know it was once
Here, leave them frightenen.
Looking at the world from
Up top, it puff its chest
And let out a roar-
Freedom.
Great description of the lion and how it acts
I really like your use of imagery! The one that caught my eyes was the first verse, “Standing tall and proud It mane flows like At field of wild grass In the wind”. I also like how you used a lion symbolizing freedom! Overall amazing poem! 🙂
I like your choice of word “gentle but powerful” and “its ferocious roar” adds imagery
My ode to my crush
On the day that i met you
I’ve fallen for you like how the
Snowflakes is falling to fill the beautiful
because of gravitational pull like how’s my
love is to you.
I love you as if there is no tomorrow
Your beautiful smile keeps me warm
Like how is the sun keeping the
grass green during the raining storm.
Her humor makes me smile until my
cheekbone hurts.
At every passing period I make her
Laugh as if she is in a
Laughing gas mask to forget the stress.
Then I give her a hug before
She goes as if it can’t fulfill
My day without it.
Once she leave to go home
My heart sadden,I misses her
I really like your use of simile. Like when you compared the girl’s smile to the sun. Good job on the poem!
Love it! I like how it goes so smoothly and cheesy! I also like your use of simile. I appreciate where you compared the smile to sun keeping the grass green. 🙂
I love the ending, it is so cute and I love your simile about her smile
Cherry Blossom trees
It comes once a year in the springtime and raises it’s beauty upon our glamorous mother nature. It comes in pink, so beautiful like the goddess Hera. It caught us one sightseeing to catch a glance of the beauty of those cherry blossom trees. Oh they were beautiful, like you in my dreams. In the early spring after a gush of rain, they lift their little bodies out of the fresh earth. In the day the sun shines on to them and at night they start to grow their little soul. Oh they were fresh and healthy with no sustain. As time has passed their beauty withered and their petals fall off. It was time to bare their little offsprings. Soon those petals were gone and green leaves has manage to take over bearing delicious fruits. They come once in the most beautiful time of the year, those cherry blossom trees.
I like how you compared the blossom tree to goddess hera and This is a beautiful poem.
niceee. i love it, especially when you added imagery to describe the cherry blossom trees, and allusion by ” beautiful” as the Great America, and “dreams” from Martin Luther King.
I like your use of simile. Especially the line, “It comes in pink, so beautiful like the goddess Hera” I really like how you compared cherry blossoms to the goddess Hera. Nice!
I really like your use of imagery in the poem. Like how you described the petals and when they bear fruits. Great poem!
Worst Nightmare
In Connecticut, it is a cold morning and many kids are just starting to go to school as a regular day. Parents and kids smiling to be able to go to school and home safely. The season slowly changing and the holiday that everyone likes is coming its way. All the kids and teachers getting ready to learn something knew.
A car pulls up and a man holding a semi automatic rifle AR-15 comes out the car. The alarm of the school sounds off, teachers and kids panick and are scared. They think it’s a regular drill that they do whenever they have the time to do it. They quickly turn off the lights and close the blinds inside the classroom. Shots were heard throughout the whole school.
Teachers were quickly hiding their students in the tight, small, and dark closet in their classes. A man with black clothing and a armored vest looking like a police officer. He goes near a class and went inside shots fired and bodies wondering, “ Why does it have to be me? I’m only a kid who knows very little.” Puddles of red flowing like a river and connects to each other. Sirens are crying through the school with tears dripping like rain falls. Its sad to not see your child not come out wanting to see you. The man afraid being taken into custody takes his own life and twenty six other people. Parents hatred grows, but nothing can be done. “ Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.” Parents have to live on without hating others and pursue their dreams.
That was very touching, you did a great job it. But just so everyone knows put in the holiday..
“Looking Upon her Death”
By: Stephanie A.
In Florida, on a sunrisen morning,
It is bright with birds singing
Their lovely songs of the day.
At the peak of the tower there
Is a figure, barely visible to
The eye.
Previous to this tragic morning,
There were emotional attacks to this
Transparent figure that now looks
Upon her death.
She is 12 years old who was
Terrorized with hateful words by 2
Teenagers. Their words were cruel,
Judgemental and heart breaking.
She looks down upon her death,
Stands at the peak with the
Feel of certainty.
She extends her arms and lets
Gravity take its course.
She plummets but not feeling anything.
She looks at herself, and
Knows that up above will
Be the most relief she had
Felt in a while.
I will never understand how
Cruel a person can be.
I honestly don’t think
Anyone realizes how sensitive
A person can be about their
Weight, height, or even their
Medical stability.
I, too, wake up every morning
Wondering and finding features
Of myself that is decent.
Take into consideration how
To extinct the amount of other
Teenagers who feel they need
To look upon their own death.
I’m in the town with no expectations
I don’t know what’s going to happen to me
I have to find new friends and affections
I look in the horizon and i see
The moon smiling and the sun crying
All my feelings are competely absent
The clouds are coming with no advising
Everything that is dry will become wet
The strong winds are coming with the autumn
Everything that has become a sin comes pure
Real and bright as the white of cotton
Why everyone gets older or mature?
I am waiting, upstairs to heaven
Woke-up and it is only eleven
I like your use of imagery being used to describe the seen
i like your diction in very stanza and how they connect to one another. It is very smooth and i can read it without considering if it sounds weird.
Poetry To Me
Poetry to me is like
getting hit in the face with a book,
challenging me to read it,
challenging me to open the first page,
it’s daring me,
it’s provoking me,
it’s laughing at me,
it’s looking at me funny,
not having any knowledge of it,
not knowing what’s on the first page,
or the last,
or even the name of the writer,
what is poetry?
why is it laughing at me?
what does it want from me?
who wrote poetry?
what is poetry?
your thought towards poetry is very clear and i’m confident that many first time readers feels the same.
I feel the same when you said on line 9, “not having any knowledge of it” because i would read a poem and i’ll be confused on what is going on. xD Anyways, i like your use of imagery at lines 5 through 8. Nice!
To Whom Who Decided To Birth Me…
By : Listzy Sandoval.
To whom who decided to give birth to me.
Nine months watching over my small body.
I’m sorry for kicking your kidney.
I want to pop up and see you mommy.
I’m growing and growing so quickly.
Come her and wipe my behind dear.
Give me sick juice so it can fix me.
Now look under my bed so I won’t fear.
Go away leave me alone or mute it.
I’m grown now I don’t need your amusement.
I’m just kidding mom I am so foolish.
But I won’t take the trash I’m refusing.
Thank you for all the commitment.
My love for you will never be forbidden.
Your poem is very interesting! i like the way you’re telling the story. I also like how it went from one stage of a childs life to another stage when she/he is grown.
This is a really touching poem. I really enjoyed reading the first, two lines.
I really like this! I appreciate your couplet, “Thank you for all the commitment. My love for you will never be forbidden.” because I feel like everyone should be thankful for their mother and appreciate what mothers go through to make us happy. 🙂
Child’s Death
In Okara, Pakistan an orphan
Iram, 10 work in a sugar
cane field on a scorching
hot day in the summer.
No shoes, hands bleeding
starving mouth from hours of picking.
She is Pakistani, very
skinny like a stick,
Face resembling Malala,
Wearing a baggy shirt
& shorts to large for her.
Going down the thick rows
Of sugar canes with
Sweat dripping down
her face. When the
sun was blocked by a
shadow of her owner
Tommy.
Tommy is staring at
Iram with a furious look
Of anger and eyes
Red like the devil.
He lifts his arm up,
And hit Iram with a
gas pipe against
her head.
Iram fell forward
Grabbing at her head.
While Tommy kept beating
Her repeatedly with the pipe.
-Why this happen to me?
The young man happy
Of his accomplishment
Walks back into the
House leaving fresh
Prints on the smooth dirt.
Villagers surrounds Iram
As a couple of mumbles
Escape from her mouth.
As blood rushes from Iram head.
She lays in the field suffering a painful death
With no one helping her.
I sit here sad as Iram
Lays in the field dead
With no one caring about
This young girl,
I am heartbroken.
This poem of yours is painful, meaning your use of language creates such a mood that I felt as if I were there myself! This was well organized and full of imagery that brings every detail to mind and forces me to imagine the tragedy that took place in full. Great job Gurl! definitely a ✔️➕➕
I really like your excellent usage of imagery of how you explain Iram beatings.
This is a great poem I love your use of imagery to describe the setting that this poor girl had to suffer through
Poetry is Like…
My relationship with poetry is like water to a plant.
With every drop, it stays alive.
With every drop, it grows.
With every drop, it changes.
From the nourishing roots
To the stem,
Knowledge is consumed.
The words from poems make it
Stronger,
Bigger,
And brighter.
The leaves gradually extend,
The petals gradually sprout,
And the plant gradually blooms.
Wow! This was amazing, I honestly enjoyed reading it. How you wrote, ” With every drop, it stays alive. With every drop, it grows. With every drop, it changes. ” I feel the attention that you drew into these details and you’ve successfully created parallelism(?) with it.
OUH!! Nice poem Lisha. It’s really artistic of you to come up with ideas like that. When you said “My relationship with poetry is like water to a plant” (1), that is really thoughtful of you to say that because afterall, you are probably the water pouring out your love to the plant. Very Creative. Love you poem!!
I like how you use repetition on line 2-4. It really shows and tells what happens to the plant with every drop of water.
Prose Poem: The Life Cycle
We carefully tuck them all into their beds. We watched them grow, we nurture them as if they’re our own babies. We feed them fresh dirt. We take them out for walks, letting them take in the fluorescent smell of nature . After a while, we take them back into their tiny greenhouse and tuck them back in bed. Many days and months have gone by, Spring has passed, fall have begun. It is time for them to leave and soon, they will all wither away like little drops of rain from the dark blue sky. Then again, Another season passed, We tuck them back into their beds.
Your use of words to describe the seasons are very touching
Newtown
It is december in newtown
11 days before christmas
We hear the school bells ring
We say our last goodbyes
26 of us will not be coming home tonight
We sit
We watch the clock
We hear a tick, tock to 9 o’clock
Outside these walls danger will come
He will come alone, in black
He will then leave with 26 of us
In one classroom was roussecus
A substitute for 14 students
He then came and fired
In another room was victoria 27
The gun took her and 6 children
We sit
We watch, the blood spill
We head a tick,tock to every beat stopped
People are waiting in hopes
Not even the winds can blow the pain away
“It’s almost over they say “
The man dressed in black-
He came
He took his life way
I like how you rhymed in some of the stanzas and i like the way you kind of explained what happened that day and how everything went down. 🙂
really enjoyed the “We sit We watch the clock We hear a tick, tock to 9 o’clock” part, it felt like it was foreshadowing the suspense that was soon to happen later on in your news poem.
This is very deep and dark. I enjoyed how you personified danger as coming into the school and over the walls. It made me stick to the writing and felt pain when you said, “we watch the blood spill…”
On line 6 through 8, “We sit We watch the clock We hear a tick, tock to 9 o’clock” i liked how it rhymed and it gave me a feeling of fear, like how in scary movies someone is opening a door and you get that feeling.. 😛 I also liked how everything flows so smoothly. Amazing! 🙂
Elenoa Esau
Thought of her leaving, life nearing the end,
My heart shatters and eyes drown in tears,
I was soon to lose my only true friend,
Losing My Mother was My Only Fear.
Now she is gone, but Memory don’t fade,
The teachings and love imprint on my skin,
Like a deck of cards, shoot for a spade,
Told Me life is a game, so take a spin!
Told Me love is our true religion,
Our family are its Missionaries,
Shared importance of family origin,
And taught this world ain’t magic and fairies.
Kisses to the sky of eternity,
And now it is back to reality.
This poem is beautiful, Anitema i really liked how you compared love to religion and continued with it as love being something so grand.
I have to admit this is a very touching and beautiful sonnet, Tema. I love every words you put in there especially, “Now she is gone, but Memory don’t fade, The teachings and love imprint on my skin” it gave me a feeling of sadness, but the love is real.
This sonnet is really good. As i read i can sort of relate to it, i like your rhyme choices. This sonnet makes sense to me I like how you’re comparing reality to fantasy.
Love Sonnet
As lovers tend to know the one we hurt
It’s us who needs to let go of the fear
With all of this it can leave you in dirt
You may not be mines but I’ll love you dear
But none of us are storming but loving
Destruction awaits only on your fate
Humanity’s a thing that keeps leaving
You learn the steps when you’re a little late
Yet, even the most love you show is gone
Who’d destroyed the most rotten living soul
Just within seconds your life can be spun
Everything that is yours can be control
Such the love, that I seem to only gain
Such the love, that I feel thee only pain
i like your ” gg ” line, because how you put the first three words exact the same, ” such the love “, such a great idea!
I love how you wrote, “Humanity’s a thing that keeps leaving/ You learn the steps when you’re a little late.” I agree with you a hunnit percent! You keeping it real!
It feels like you yourself was in this poem i agree with what u say
The lines “You may not be mines but I’ll love you dear” and “You learn the steps when you’re a little late” was so beautifully interpreted in your sonnet, it felt as if it was speaking to me the reader, very touching.
I like the way you set your “ee” line because it can be a real life situation. The moment your love for the person is gone, your life can be in disasters.
Image-Symbol Poem
The wolf stands darkly
with blue eyes, with dark
fur howling in the night.
It is fierce like a lion,
fast like a cheetah, black
like the darkness arising,
nothing but a shadow,
not visible to be seen.
It is a coyote chilling
in a cave, scoping through
areas, time to time.
This agility it consumes,
madness, roaming its landscape
with no fear of hesitation-
Shadow.
i like how you added so many imagery like loin, cheetah, dark, cave and etc, and your simile.
I like how you compare the wolf to other animals.
Poetry is Like
Poetry is like a hike up a treacherous cliff
With the grounds of it quaky and unsure
Every path taken more narrow and complex than the last
The openings it offers barricaded by boulders of confusion and stones of uncertainty
With each obstacle surpassed
There arrives a new dilemma,
One of which you must tread softly,
For fear of falling into the abyss of perplexity
Despite the dangerous situations,
To attain recognition for a winning feat,
To achieve inner fulfillment,
I trudge forward
To reach the phase of enlightenment at the cliff’s peak,
The sunlit summit
Sonnet Poem For My Love
So fast and deep in love with you, I fell.
Most of my family thought I would joke.
They would always yell but love… they cannot tell.
Without you, I feel I get a bad stroke.
I am so grateful for all that you give.
Now and days, you are always on my mind.
You are the one purpose for me to live.
True love was very hard for me to find.
At first, my life was a very weird blur.
It was like I was stuck in a large cave
and I thought you were not the one for sure,
but you were and it is me that you save.
Why did you not choose someone else to take?
Now, I’m in love with you for crisis sake!!
I like the way you describe that you love this person. And i also like the way you rhymed in every single stanza. i like this poem a lot!!!!! <3
Putting yourself in it is something that i like and your use of words connects with me.
I enjoyed this sonnet! It gives you a comdeic relief that everyone can relate to. Love is something that everyone has or wants, you displayed that even through problems; you still go on.
Ode to Insanity
Happy. Sad. Anger. Love.
Unnecessary emotions
that I tried to forget.
I sought aid from
Neutrality and Balance,
leaving those around
me unaware of my
presence and emotions.
I cautiously took steps,
making sure that no one
acknowledged me
physically nor mentally.
For I was alive
without a reason,
constantly reasoning with
myself and misleading
my thoughts to
horrendous ideas.
Was I normal?
Was I born normal?
Was I born a…
Human?
Allowing these thoughts
to lead me to an answer,
I allowed Seclusion
to reside inside me;
making little, to no
contact with people,
while I attempted to
unravel the truth.
I didn’t with to
befriend anyone,
knowing that one
day they’d
abandon me,
betray me,
back-stab me,
and eventually
label me as a
heretic for believing
in such ideas.
Fear. Pain. Isolation.
Such simple things
that can turn a
person blind to
their own emotions.
Without hurting others,
or myself, I threw
myself into a room
of darkness.
Quickly locking
the door and throwing
the key into the
pits of my
emotions.
Suffering from
Painful Famine,
Sickly Illnesses,
And the
Darkness of Loneliness,
I still managed to
display a happy expression,
masking my
unstable condition with
the cloak of façade.
Accumulating, Adding, Amplifying…
until BOOM!
Insanity breaks open the door
to my dark room,
embracing me ever so sweetly.
We became friends,
naturally, and watched
the bloody red
sunset daily.
He constantly made
me laugh over
the sight of trickling,
crimson red blood.
We’d have conversations
hours on end, about
absurd topics; as people
glared at us with red eyes.
We ignored their ignorance
and continued joyously
with our laughter-filled day.
All while gazing the
maroon skies
that were filled with
displaced clouds.
I really like your use of personification on the emotions.
i can connect to this poem and Alex i think somewhat like you do.
The structure of the poem is amazing, it makes me think of how i talk to myself. I begin to question everything and this poem brings those thoughts back to life.Its worth the reading.
Wow!! This poem was awesome. Its so true too. I enjoyed reading it, it was worth it!!
Your poem is very well written, I love the emotions of the poem which drawers the reader closer to understanding the feels of the topic.
News Poem
In Africa
It’s the middle of the day
The burning hot temperature
The dead dried grass
There is hungry little children in Africa
Laying there on the ground
They uses their last breath
And shouts as loudly as a lion’s roar
Fearlessly they beg for help
Wanting food, water, shelter
All they ever ask for
African children becomes sick
To where they
Are unable to function
Catches deadly diseases
Like Ebola
Easy to catch, hard to leave
No one there to help
Hopelessly, they suffer
Aglaus, who feels the same
As the African Children
Their struggles of surviving
Running on empty
Everyday little African children
Asks “Why me?”
WHY
I see little African Children
They are starving
Haven’t eaten for days
I see them drinking contaminated water
Not having a choice
Whether to drink or where to not
It is the silent killer
Who murders and suffers
These children
— Poverty
May one day African children overcome this crisis
What you wrote is eye opening.Many of us think of how unfortunate they are but dont really any action, but the way you expressed this crises is something we as young people should take into consideration. Over all love it.
Thanks Yarikcy <3
I like how you isolated the “WHY” which makes it for exaggerating and puts more emphasis on it.
This was LeeLee by the way. :/
I like how you isolated the “WHY” which makes it for exaggerating and puts more emphasis on it.
“In the Dark”
In the dark theater of Louisiana,
On a Thursday evening,
A 59 year old man,
Wildly fires the gun in the dark theater.
The mind of the gunman,
Must be in a troubling dark state.
Without thinking or seeing,
The gunman injures 9 people
And kills 3 people.
The gunman also turns the gun
To himself
With one shot of the bullet,
Following the people he killed.
The comment of Obama saying,
“This week that gun violence was one
Of the most vexing issues of his presidency.”
I, myself feel empathy for those who
Lost their loved ones but also pity the gunman.
There must have been something wrong with him to shoot himself and kill others.
There will always be a dark secret.
May the sky be covered with the people who has died.
Prayers and blessings to those who were injured.
This gave me goosebumps! The words you chose to share this tragedy real sets the mood! Great job Gurrol!
I enjoyed how you said “the dark theater,” it strongly emphasizes the imagery and idea of, maybe, death. Also, the exact facts such as age and number of casualties enlightens the reader of the issue, very touching poem.
Poetry is like graffiti
It is everywhere
Many see it
Some may understand its
Actual meaning
Many have their own perceptions
Others define poetry as a waste
While others, admire its beauty
People live and die for these works
Both are a form of art
Which can be interpreted
In various styles and ways
Poetry is like graffiti
Showing the reality
Of life and letting all
Emotions show through art
Self expression
Poetry is like graffiti
Love love looooooove iiiiiit! I like how you described it as art because of course art is beautiful! 🙂
I love how you compared poetry to graffiti because poetry and graffiti can have many ambiguous interpretations. What caught my eye was your lines, “Showing the reality of life and letting all emotions show through art” 🙂
Sonnet Poem
This sonnet will not be easy to write
So I will try my best to think of things
To make this sound like it’s not wrong but right
It will feel like I’m on a weightless swing
Don’t think of giving up or you will fail
There will be times where you will want to stop
But in the end you will feel like a sail
You will own this like you would own a shop
As other students fall like lots of flies
You persevere and stand proud on your feet
Soon you will gracefully fly through the skies
And not be in class sitting on a seat
As you can see this sonnet is all done
I hope you learned some things and had some fun
i like the idea about writing a sonnet about a sonnet. it was very interesting to read.
Wow Yang! I love how you kept me up reading the whole sonnet. Yes I agree with you that a sonnet is very hard to write. Even I stuggle with it a few times. But overall, great sonnet and encouragements for writing a sonnet xD
My Relationship To Poetry Is Like A Dry Tree Without Water
The burning hot sun, and it’s like fire on me,
drag me down to the ground
with dead leaves
where i can feel the tiredness ill,
K! The sound of my broken legs,
pour water on me
then just set me free
like how give me knowledge
and take me to college.
“pour water on me, set me free” that was beautiful! i really appreciated those lines
thank you michelle
Your first line, “The burning hot sun, and it’s like fire on me” is just like how I feel when writing “My relationship to poetry is like..” It is a small poem but is very meaningful, Der! Great job!
thank you Yer
Ode to my cardigan
Our love was the strongest
Yet the most short lived
Days go by from when i saw you last
So unexpected
I never meant to hurt you
Leave you stranded on the curb
Alone and dirty, missing me
The way you wrapped yourself around me
The unyielding warmth you emitted
I miss it all
Maybe in another time
Or some place far from here
We are together again
Oh how i miss you
My actions as unforgivable
As my memory of you
My dear old black cardigan
What has become of us
-irreplaceable
I like the ending which makes it seem so dramatic., and concludes the paragraph very neatly.
i like how you add the shift and tone , ” so unexpected ” and i like when you said “The way you wrapped yourself around me” because you make it seem like the cardigan is a human being .
R.I.P old black cardigan
Music is the solution
to every problem
someone might have
Music is a friend
that will never leave
your side no matter
how difficult things get
Music is like a drug
its addicting but
helps people relax and calm down
when they are going through
difficult experiences
Music keeps the world
together, without music life
would be miserable –
Calmness
really liked this! its very easily relatable for the reader, and i enjoyed your comment of music being a friend .
love your comparison to a drug because it does calm me down! this is very relatable, youve brought my ongoing thoughts and my relationship with music and weaves it into this cool poem! great job dude
Books are unique in it’s own way
and supply water to a dry vessel.
They bring life to one’s thoughts
and light to one’s mind.
Books are worlds hidden in the lines of a language.
Adventures unseen by a hazy mist.
They hold knowledge to guide lost
heroes in their adventure.
And they may have been forgotten and replaced
by a new electrical source.
However every now and then a soul in darkness
will see the glow of the jewel on the pitch
black ground and acknowledge its greatness
That many had forgotten.
I agree that many people have forgotten how great a book can be. It can inspire so many people, its being overshadowed by such things like technology. Great poem! I enjoyed reading it and it certainly does help me think about how ignorant our world has become.
One line that really caught my attention was, “However every now and then a soul in darkness will see the glow of the jewel on the pitch black ground.” I really liked the comparisons that you made with book to a jewel.
Spring is here. The flowers are sprouting, blooming. But some flowers take longer than others to glow in it’s true complexion. When they’re just a kernal, people wouldn’t care for them, step on them like they’re just annoying, plain weeds. After they blossom, suddenly everyone cares. They take pictures of it, water it, and make sure it’s well fertilized. It reminds me of people only caring when it’s too late. That’s why the saying, “Never judge a book by its cover” exists. It tells us to shelter everything. Maybe one day they’ll germinate in the array.
Lol that was Fire ^^^ some big words you used there, i enjoyed reading your poem, keep up the great work 🙂
I stood there as a canvas with no art
You picked up the brush and began to think
You dipped it in red and then drew a heart
You stared as your smile began to shrink
Then you began to create something grand
And you drew me completely with big eyes
After you drew a paintbrush in my hand
And at the end of the brush were your eyes
We both drew each other with color and life
We were both amazed at our creations
We had to die and we picked up the knife
We chose to die and it shocked a nation
We knew it was better than be apart
‘Cause what’s more beautiful than lifeless art?
such a plot twist you got there, “and at the end of the brush were your eyes” , i like that plost twist and i like how you put “art” as the beginning and to the end .
Such a beautiful sonnet. I could reread this over and over and wouldn’t be bored. Such strong imagery and ideas in each line keeps me intrigued.
your couplet is quote impressive leslie, it is very aweing…really captures the readers attention and leaves them flabbergasted, quite like myself
I liked how you ended your sonnet “cause what’s more beautiful than lifeless art?” You had a strong beggining and a powerful ending.
Your sonnet was Fuego