Writeon's Blog

A Sacramento City School Blog

News Poem

April7
  1. Type your News Poem into a Microsoft Word document; include your reflection about the feelings your imagery evokes, the process you used to develop your poem, and a description of your style.
  2. Be sure that your poem has the setting, imagery, active voice verbs, one allusion, and your thoughts and feelings about your subject.
  3. Copy and paste your poem into the comment box
  4. Submit
  5. Comment on two of your classmates’ poems: specifically comment on striking words, images, comparisons, or feelings.
by posted under Poetry | 112 Comments »    
112 Comments to

“News Poem”

  1. April 7th, 2011 at 7:28 pm       Hieu Le Says:

    Natural disaster
    An 8.9 magnitude earthquake had struck Japan,
    Following by an enormous, giant tsunami
    Children, parents, workers, teachers, were busy in their regular lives
    The quake, violently, had disturbed their peaceful, following with a monstrous water wave sweptwing away almost half of japan
    People were crying, swimming, and fleeing slowly
    The evil waves have no mercy and continue to approach
    It wasn’t meant to happen but it did
    The results of natural disaster have finally come
    Telling humans that the world is depend on us
    Telling us to watch out for our actions.
    The wave have no reason to come striking Japan, but it was forced by the evil earthquake, which created by humans
    Natural disaster doesn’t happens like it wants it
    It happens because we badly treated “Mother Nature”
    If we had done what the Great Algore said,
    Then they’ll be no pain
    Global warming is the cause of our pain
    Global warming is what caused natural disasters
    We can stop now, so the earth can stop, and this will helps end s out fears
    It agitates me that japan had to face this disaster
    It agitates me to see people dies
    It wishes that we could stop this
    I wish that people could realize and try


    • April 12th, 2011 at 2:31 pm       Keav'n Says:

      yay deep ( so many people are writing about japan o.0 )
      good goin with the deep personal connection/ response


    • April 12th, 2011 at 4:28 pm       Su Her Says:

      i like it, it was deep and good connection to the personal world that no body sees


  2. April 7th, 2011 at 4:40 pm       ricky her Says:

    Hope
    In India, the dusty dirt under the small playful children’s feet is playing outside.
    No shoes. No money. No opportunities.
    No one giving damn about them.
    However, soon, there will be a rising star,
    With so much potential,
    We cannot say no.
    His name is Satnam Singh Bhamara.
    Already being compared to greats.
    Like LeBron, Jordan, Kobe, and Johnson.
    Just you wait,
    He will come to touch on US soil.
    And be the next great on the media
    And on the court.

    My imagery evokes the feeling of inspiration because not so much people from India get to play in the NBA. I developed my poem by researching a news topic that I was interested in my life. And I happen to stumble across this basketball topic. I really love to play basketball. My style in this poem was a free style. I like to write free style because I can express more imagery in my poem.


  3. April 7th, 2011 at 4:39 pm       Jackie Ward Says:

    Gone baby, Gone by Jacqueline Ward

    Little baby, pure and beautiful loves her mommy,
    loves the world.
    A lovely little girl form Dayton, Ohio, perhaps one day
    She will travel to the City she was named for… Paris.

    Gone baby, Gone!

    Mommy’s young, only 26, her mind as fragile as her name… China
    All is well to baby Paris, but mommy is mad… furious.

    Gone baby, gone!

    “Making the decision to have a baby — it’s momentous. It is to decide to forever have
    your heart walking outside your body.” Said Elizabeth Stone.
    China’s heart lives in Paris, not yet walking but loving smiling, and breathing until…

    Gone baby, Gone!

    “Last train to Paris” cried the fragile mind within China. “Last train form Paris shouted the burning light of the microwave.
    In goes baby, her heart beating, loving, shinning brighter than then microwaves light.

    PLEASE! Live baby, live!

    With the slam of the slender black door and punching of the buttons,

    FOREVER, Gone baby, Gone!

    The lights of Paris are dimmed never will she travel to her city.
    Heart no longer beating, loving, or smiling.
    her one month, her 30 days is all…
    According to mommy used up and done.
    Paris I am sorry you are,
    Gone baby, gone!

    The imagery in my poem helps the readers to in vision a baby going into a microwave. This will evoke feelings of anger, disgust, and sadness. I developed this poem by first reading and re-reading the news article my poem is about. Then I analyzed my feelings and asked my dad his feelings and for a few vocabulary words I could use. The style I used in my poem was repetition; I repeated my poems title after each stanza.


  4. April 7th, 2011 at 4:36 pm       Alicia Rizo Says:

    Ardi Rizal

    It is in Indonesia, where Ardi Rizal lives
    a two year old boy, who cigarettes loves
    he’s not a typical kid, he doesn’t play and scream
    this boy’s appearance is chubby and a little short

    He throws tantrums if not allowed to smoke
    40 cigarettes is a regular routine
    smoked first cigarette when 18 months old
    Given by his 30 year old father

    It is sad to see, how some parents can be
    not caring about their children, it’s hard to admit
    we need to help ourselves and the rest of the world.
    Like Abraham Lincoln once said,
    Always bear in mind that your own resolution
    to succeed is more important than any other,
    In order to help others succeed
    we need to be successful ourselves

    My imagery evokes a feeling by describing how the boy is, the way he looks like and the way he’s not a typical boy like others. He is desperate to receive a cigarette and forgets about the real world about a child. I developed my poem by thinking about the situation of the boy. My style was like words of advice.


    • April 12th, 2011 at 2:48 pm       Keav'n Says:

      Brutal explainmation
      May The conflict be solved through time

      Good actions of the boy (verb use/ word use)


      • April 12th, 2011 at 4:17 pm       Yvette Beltran Says:

        i love your poem and how it described the boy how we was chubby etc but in a nice way and how you describe the place


  5. April 7th, 2011 at 4:34 pm       Cassandra Paz Says:

    Chicken

    Heart pounding faster than usual
    The pressure
    On a hot sunny clear day
    I could feel the sweat coming down my face
    In the city no other than Sacramento
    On an intersection by the apartments
    That some are afraid of
    And others embrace of
    Under the blazing sun
    Dying defeat the odds
    The probability
    Of winning, of surviving
    At least I thought there were many
    I stood on the hot side walk
    Thinking that my sneakers would melt
    From the heat that I felt
    I stood beside the friends that I called my homies
    The friends that I would give my life for
    I ran across the steamy concrete street
    With my heart beating rapidly in my hand
    And my life flashing before my eyes
    The beep that I heard from the car
    Almost made my eardrums pop
    The wheels shrieked and I realized
    That I was under its feet
    My life ended for a game
    A game I did not know how to play
    But I was no chicken
    But in the end it came to an end
    And so did my life
    On the street of 29th.

    The poem evokes a feeling of sadness. It creates a mental picture of what happened on that dreadful day. The poem evokes a feeling of surprise, until we realized what happened. That the outcome was unexpected, this poem brought memories of what it would be like to lose your life for a game that wasn’t worth dying for. I developed this poem from a past experience, about a boy that was a friend of my cousins that had died from playing a game of chicken. It’s a life lesson that maybe could bring up the question what do we live for? What are you willing to die for? For a game, a person, a color, what are you willing to die for?


  6. April 7th, 2011 at 4:32 pm       Yvette Beltran Says:

    Placerville Louisiana
    Wednesday bright and early
    Sunshine
    Breezy wind
    Elementary kid
    Playing, giggling, eating
    Among each other
    Smile on all their faces
    Just an ordinary day
    Until boom!
    10:40 a.m. R.I.P him that day

    No children were injured
    No teacher was either
    But Sam Lacara was shot, wounded, bleeding
    A shooting claimed “under control”
    Soon placed on immediate lockdown
    A janitor has shot
    At lost his hob
    Sorrowful pain leading to death
    Yes, R.I.P Lacara 11:16 a.m.
    Pronounced dead

    Marshall hospital
    Amen, We all said
    Pray in church
    For the lost soul that day
    “Bless him father for he has sin”
    Raise him to heaven
    He deserves the entrance in
    Live Laugh Love
    Pray Eat Sleep
    I pray for the families
    Recovery

    My imagery evokes a feeling it creates at first a happy setting, by the kids doing normal activities they usually do then it slowly develops a disturbing filling once I announce boom. It continues on through out the whole poem after that one mention, but then I refer to God to bring it back to a friendly setting. I figured out my poem by researching and understanding the family (Lacara) opinion. My style is consider a breaking news article in a newspaper.


    • April 7th, 2011 at 4:41 pm       Jackie Ward Says:

      i remember seeing this story on the news when it first happened , good poem !


    • April 7th, 2011 at 4:46 pm       Alicia Rizo Says:

      heyy yvette
      I like your poem and the way you described the death of the principal. I also like the imagery you created about the children.


    • April 12th, 2011 at 2:42 pm       Mindy Vang Says:

      I liked how you created an imagery of everything that happened by stating down the time that the principal got shot and was pronounced dead. Good Job.


    • April 12th, 2011 at 4:22 pm       Su Her Says:

      i like the way how you used BOOM trying to make it an big and noticeable


  7. April 7th, 2011 at 4:28 pm       Joseph Yang Says:

    Turning To Suicide

    The school is filled with students,
    Walking and socializing
    From class to class.
    Covered in murals,
    from wall to wall,
    lighting up the beauty
    of the school.

    A boy of kindness,
    And peace, Jon socializes with his friends, helping
    And caring for them.

    With a sadden push on the
    Other boys shoulder, it all
    Fades away,
    Into suffering of bullying
    And embarrassment.
    One to the left,
    One to the right,
    One to the stomach,
    And he goes down
    With a yell for help,
    One which will not be answered.
    Laying on the ground, yelling
    In pains as no one
    Cares to stop to help
    The boy.
    The ones he thought of as friends,
    Abandons him, leaving
    Him, turning back on their friendship.
    Laying helpless in pain, suddenly
    Picked up and thrown into the trash can,
    With his head first.
    Left alone to himself, no one dares
    To help or worry.
    Tears of pain falls
    Slowly down his face,
    As he walks away.

    Passing by the teachers,
    They don’t care.
    They ignore the awful
    Scene, and walk on
    As if nothing had happened.

    Left to deal with the boys again,
    Jon is once again beat,
    Falling down to the ground.
    Eyes, watching closely
    At the new entertainment.
    Legs, coming closer, step by step,
    By step.
    Picked up, then stripped
    Of his clothes, the boys
    Throw the naked boy in to the trash can,
    Once again, no one helps him.
    Students, coming closer,
    Staring at the boy of nudity,
    And taking pictures, laughing
    At the boy.
    Jon is filled with sadness.

    Living in the evil world,
    Alone and sad,
    Jon is left with no choice,
    But to take his own life.
    Bearing the embarrassment
    For so long, Jon finds happiness
    In dying. Alone at home,
    With a sharp, small razor, Jon prepares as he suffers,
    Slowly, with no emotions, no
    Sound, he cuts once, he cuts
    Twice, blood starts to rush out.
    With one last cut, life is gone.

    Put up against bullies, living
    Everyday in misery,
    Jon tries to live hi life
    In happiness, but he can’t escape
    The darkness of people.

    I feel sadness, sadness for Jon,
    For what he had to endure. I
    Feel he is a man of goodness.
    I fell the boys were in wrong,
    Bullying Jon, stripping him,
    They are disgusting.
    What is more disgusting
    Is the teachers, they ignore
    The brutal bullying. They
    Look away when Jon was abused.
    They disgust me. I feel sad
    For Jon, for he had only the choice
    Of dying
    To be free
    Of all the misery
    And suffering
    In his life.

    Imagery of my poem evokes a sad feeling. The descriptive words of the scene make the reader feel sad for Jon. The scene of Jon being bullied makes the reader wonder why the bully are doing this and the scene makes the reader sad for the treatment Jon receives. I developed my poem by starting out with a cause and then the effect. The sad events start out as the beginning of a new day, and as it goes on, Jon suffers more and more until he finally decides to leave it all. I used the information from the news article and added it with my own thoughts to describe the scenes and to show Jon’s decision. I am not sure on my style. I am not sure if I created a style to my poem.


    • April 7th, 2011 at 4:30 pm       Katherine Prasad Says:

      It’s a really strong poem Joseph


    • April 7th, 2011 at 4:38 pm       Michelle Nguyen Says:

      I can totally imagine that sad scene in my head. Good and stroong poem though Joseph. I felt it.


    • April 7th, 2011 at 4:46 pm       Jackie Ward Says:

      amazing evoke really strong emotion.


    • April 12th, 2011 at 4:11 pm       Kabao Vang Says:

      i like the description of your peom


    • April 12th, 2011 at 4:23 pm       Su Her Says:

      This is an sad poem i could feel the pain that he went through also i could imagine how hard his life is being bullied and no one helping


    • April 12th, 2011 at 4:24 pm       Cassandra Paz Says:

      This poem is deep. It creates an image in my head that I feel that I am present in the persons life, It’s disturbing and great!


  8. April 7th, 2011 at 4:25 pm       Katherine Prasad Says:

    Unexpected

    In Japan, when the sun rises,
    People are quietly walking down the streets,
    Families together in their houses,
    The gentle morning, undisturbed, undisrupted,
    The too quiet morning,
    Time passes slowly as people go about their own business,
    Hardly knowing what’s about to hit them,

    Suddenly, the ground beneath their feet rumble,
    The interior of buildings break,
    The foundation of houses shake,
    The earth cracks into two, dividing Japan,
    The screaming of people as they hold on for dear life,
    As they run out of buildings, hoping it won’t fall on them,
    Japan shakes, until the earthquake finally comes to an end,

    Japan, undisturbed, undisrupted, suddenly shook,
    Suddenly, the peace of Japan broke,
    Like the Japanese philosophy goes, ‘thunderclap from a blue sky’,
    This sudden disaster killed many, injured lots,
    It hurt Japan’s resources and economy,
    And Japan is left shattered,

    This makes me think that, anything can happen,
    To anyone or anything,
    Some things happen when we least expect it to,
    And it scares me,
    What can happen to us?

    I think the imagery in my poem evokes a dramatic feeling, and a sense of surprise. In a way, it’s just really dramatic because it shows the buildings and houses shake, and people screaming. I develop my poem by using words that show dramatic images of what the earthquake’s done to Japan. I also feel like I started with a calm stanza, and then the second stanza became dramatic. I don’t think I have a style for my poem, probably because I haven’t developed one yet, or haven’t realized my style yet.


  9. April 7th, 2011 at 4:24 pm       Su Her Says:

    The Inspired
    Living in the ghetto,
    Seeing little kids,
    Bouncing,
    Dribbling,
    And playing basketball,
    Just throwing the ball,
    Around,
    As time pass,
    Day by day,
    Seeing them grow up,
    Into an athletic player,
    Like the NBA player,
    LeBron James,
    Looking into the future,
    Of these kids living,
    In the ghettos than coming,
    To the riches like,
    Donald Trumph
    Who’s that person?
    Who could do that?
    It could be me,
    You,
    Or anybody,
    That has the might,
    To do so,
    It is Satnam Singh Bhamara,
    Making inspirational setting,
    To all people,
    But as time pass,
    That’s what everyone,
    Including,
    Me, Myself, and I,
    Want to be,
    What he could be.

    My imagery is like a feeling of inspirational sadness to inspirational happiness. That makes you wonder how it grew up to something beyond itself. The way that I developed my poem was to find something inspirational and think of how it would turn out to be. Well my style of the poem is that I don’t really know because thinking of a style is pretty hard, because there’s a lot of style that could be written in to express your poem.


    • April 7th, 2011 at 4:32 pm       Michelle Nguyen Says:

      I like how you made it sound like a motivation. Everyone could do something it just depends on much effort they’re willing to put in. Life is full of surprises! 🙂


    • April 12th, 2011 at 4:14 pm       Katherine Prasad Says:

      very inspiring 🙂


  10. April 7th, 2011 at 4:23 pm       Kabao Vang Says:

    Anxiety

    I hear
    People screaming for help
    I see
    People running from the giant waves
    I sense
    The death of many innocents
    Japan
    So beautiful, so colorful
    Like a rainbow

    But
    Why is God punishing you?
    Did you cause any sin?

    Seeing those giant waves crushing and breaking your property
    People filled with anxiety
    Trying to survive
    Or
    Died trying to survive

    It crushes my heart
    Seeing, hearing,
    About what happen to you
    My imagery evokes a feeling of anxiety by giving vivid imagery to the reader by describing the accident of Japan in my poem. I developed my poem by imagining what I will see, hear and sense while the tsunami is crushing Japan. My style is sort of calm because I just like to write slow and sort of calm peoms.


    • April 7th, 2011 at 4:31 pm       Katherine Prasad Says:

      I like the lines ” Why is God punishing you? Did you cause any sin?”


    • April 7th, 2011 at 4:41 pm       Michelle Nguyen Says:

      I like how you put yourself in the poem, expressing your feelings about the tsunami. But was the tsunami a punishment that humans need?


    • April 12th, 2011 at 2:41 pm       Silvya Garcia Says:

      Your imagery makes the poem seem vivid, and it does give of the tone of anxiety. It is definitely a nice poem.


    • April 12th, 2011 at 4:20 pm       Alicia Rizo Says:

      I agree with Katherine, I like the way you used to questions to ask Japan about whats happening.


    • April 12th, 2011 at 4:36 pm       Su Her Says:

      i like how you used the senses and i agree with katherine and alicia


  11. April 7th, 2011 at 4:23 pm       Michelle Nguyen Says:

    The clear blue sky above the country of Japan.
    Sounds of cars honking and chirping of birds.
    Busy streets filled with busy people.
    A sincerely average day no different from another,
    But who knew that this quiet tranquility would turn into chaos.
    People were disturbed by the shaking of the earth.
    Afterward a tsunami swept the whole nation, leaving it shattered.
    The worst was yet to become.
    The tsunami crushed the economy, leaving the whole nation without any of its former life.
    The rich and the poor all swept along with the flow of the crushing water.
    Not even the corpses were found could escape its grasp.
    No soul was left breathing, drowned out by the ocean’s wrath
    In the disaster’s wake, we were ill prepared for grieving.
    Swoosh, swoosh… and Gone! Gone with the wind.
    Tears roll down our eyes.
    Seeing this grim and devastating event happen to our own species.
    What can we do to mend our despair?
    Should we feel despair or lucky that we weren’t the one who got hit?
    What can I say?
    Life is full of surprises.
    We need to care and love for everyone around us and not be coldhearted.
    Now is the time for us to learn to live life the fullest or else it would be too late to regret.
    A tsunami isn’t a blessing; it’s a natural disaster that people don’t want to experience.
    Like the Martin Luther King Jr. had once say all races should join hands together.
    We, as humans need to comfort each other and be supportive.
    We have the connections that will link us together to fulfill the image that makes our mind believe that the eyes will always look out for each other.
    We can do it.
    I feel pathetic and helpless but what can I do?
    I believe what I can do now is only pray for the people.
    Yes, lets join hands and put ourselves in others position to know how it feels.

    My imagery evokes a feeling of motivation to change and learn from our mistakes. The images evoke a feeling of how the country of Japan experiences the expected tsunami that can affect us. It starts to give us a feeling of how we are all connected to each other and we should at least have some sympathy for one another. I develop my poem by just writing how I felt. I express my thoughts based on people’s reactions and how I felt toward the natural disaster that recently happened. The style of my poem is sad and a little formal. The style is like a moment of grief.


  12. April 7th, 2011 at 4:21 pm       Neng Vang Says:

    Step by Step

    Dogs are clever and smart,
    Learning vocab step by step,
    Around the world,
    But in South Carolina, Spartanburg, Chaser,
    Chases human education,
    A house which teaches Chaser,
    Occupied by John Pilley

    After reaching the 1000 words mark,
    His life moved into verbs,
    Step by step towards grammar,
    Illustrates that dogs are smart,
    Smart as human being

    John Pilley a psychologist,
    Says the quote,
    “How far we’ll be able to go,
    We don’t know,”
    Communication between people and dog,
    Is the goal

    Remind me of nerds,
    Which knows in seconds,
    The answer to all questions,
    But still in training,
    The grammar plus the vocab,
    In this world the education,
    We value


    • April 7th, 2011 at 4:27 pm       Neng Vang Says:

      My imagery evokes a feeling of determination to learn because Chaser, a dog, determines to learn vocabs and grammars. I developed my poem base on a new about dogs learning human education. I picked the information I wanted to include and leave the unwanted out. My style is base on facts that is given. I don’t try to rhyme my words because I just want my poem to sound awesome without rhymes.


    • April 12th, 2011 at 4:09 pm       ricky her Says:

      interesting topic to choose from


  13. April 7th, 2011 at 4:20 pm       Jasmine Young Khang K. Says:

    I suffer from Edward Syndrome.
    It’s a miracle I’m even alive,
    here being able to look into my parents’ eyes.

    Mom, you gave birth to me at 4:59 in the evening.
    The doctors were surprised my heart was even beating.
    To you and Daddy I’m considered a miracle,
    but the only thing you had on your mind was how long you had me to hold.

    I don’t know why I get fed through tubes,
    I feel useless with these, does anyone care, do you?
    I’m like a 3 legged chair not having all my parts,
    explains why there’s a hole in my heart.

    I am a ticking bomb,
    whenever the oxygen tank goes out I’ll soon be with God.

    You’re familiar with my face,
    the noise I make,
    and oh how you’d give your life to see the first step I take.
    Mom… Dad… there’s the light, do you see?
    It’s day 99 and out of all the people in the world, God chose me.

    Heaven isn’t far from reach,
    I’m still with you as we speak.
    Just think of it as a long vacation of me being away from home,
    I’ll be back soon in your dreams sooner than you know.

    IN LOVING MEMORY OF ELIOT HARTMAN MOONEY


    • April 7th, 2011 at 4:40 pm       Jasmine Young Khang K. Says:

      My imagery evokes a feeling of pity. Eliot has suffered from Trisomy E (Edward Syndrome) and he is considered a miracle child because not many Trisomy E patients live as long enough to even get to know a little bit about their parents, even with little time. I developed my poem by putting myself in Eliot’s place. I expressed how he would feel/ think in his horrid position. I used rhyming as the style of my poem.


    • April 12th, 2011 at 2:30 pm       Chai Vang Says:

      this was very touching


    • April 12th, 2011 at 2:33 pm       Hieu Says:

      it’s surprisingly how the person can survuve. I like this poem, it makes me wanna cry but i cant. the poem shows how miserable that disease can cause you. this is a good poem.
      r.i.p eliet hartman mooney


  14. April 7th, 2011 at 3:07 pm       Mindy Vang Says:

    The Unexpected Loss

    In Japan, the people are
    Waking up to a new day.
    Getting ready for work,
    Putting on their shoes,
    and heading out the door.
    The children are being
    sent off to school and
    the many office workers
    typing on their computers.
    Mothers are preparing breakfast
    Like any other ordinary
    Day.
    Civilians are going on with their
    Morning traveling through their
    Daily commutes.

    Out of the blew, a swarm
    Of rushing water swallows the city
    Wiping out homes, streets,
    schools, and buildings.
    Cars are being pushed and shoved
    Around.
    Trash is floating
    To the top of the water.
    Bridges falling apart from this mad
    Tsunami.
    Lives are being destroyed.
    Millions of civilians lost in
    This madness.
    Families losing their loved
    ones. Cries of sorrow
    coming from every corner.
    Children scattering around
    in confusion.

    Like the great poet, John
    Barlet, said, “Death was now
    Armed with a new terror.”
    The terror of accepting
    The loss of your
    home, Your family, and most
    importantly, your life?
    We live on from day to day
    Focusing on our self and our family
    But never about strangers.
    For some, it takes a disaster
    For us to realize
    How precious
    Life is.

    My imagery evokes a feeling by using descriptive words. These descriptive words create the setting and mood in my poem. The mood and tone in my poem changes in the second stanza. In the first stanza, the mood and tone that is being created feels like an ordinary day. But then in the second stanza, the mood and tone shifts creating an unexpected setting from the words ‘’out of the blew.” And I am not sure what style I used.


    • April 12th, 2011 at 2:29 pm       Vidy Lopez Says:

      It’s lovely how you connected the quote to the situation.


    • April 12th, 2011 at 2:34 pm       Silvya Garcia Says:

      I agree with the last stanza. I think that “…it takes a disaster for us to realize how precious life is,” is true. It happens all the time.It’s not until something horrible happens that we realize how awful a situation really is. But anyway I like your poem.


  15. April 7th, 2011 at 3:06 pm       Ying Vang Says:

    In New York, the loveable home that captures every heart.
    People moving, people standing still, crowds, and more crowds.
    The sun is shine as it shines in June.
    Extremely active young factory workers,
    both male and female preparing for a strike.
    Dressed in such high, stiff clear collars to their bodies almost threaten suffocation,
    plain hats, very little trimming looking like a walking flower garden.
    Mist began to embrace, blackness, just nothing less.
    Happiness was gone too soon, darkness swirled everywhere.
    1911, disaster has arrived, escape was hard to find.

    Men and girls trapped up high in the Triangle Waist factory.
    Girls collecting their belongings, time to exit out.
    Soon as it hits, girls flung themselves from the ninth floor,
    broken bones covered with tarpaulins.
    Crowd of onlookers gasped loudly below, doors were lock,
    they were pulling, banging, and screaming for help on the tenth floor.
    Most were dead; some suffocate deeply behind locked doors,
    piles of dead bodies, street scattered with bodies.
    Like the great poet, John Bartlett said,
    “Death hath so many doors to let out life.”
    And there weren’t nobody to blame except…

    I’ve caused my people to shattered into pieces,
    I’ve cause my people to find no escape,
    to suicide and never be awaken.
    I put my anger out as if I’ve never did before,
    I should be punish, hopefully god will accept the bridge to be cross
    for those who are left with nothing but ashes behind.
    I am the one to blame, I am the flame.

    My imagery evokes a feeling of being scared, it is more of a feeling of being in a situation between life and death. The descriptive words create a big image for the readers to be able to understand it and understand the feeling as if they were at that place, at the same time. Also, how the people, factory workers were reacting while being in danger. The tone began to change when the confession hit towards at the end.


  16. April 7th, 2011 at 3:05 pm       Avikesh Narayan (Boba) Says:

    My Homeland

    Destroyed by earthquakes, water and fear
    Wishing I could be there, or at least be near
    To help all of those that are trying to find
    An answer, a loved one, a little piece of mind
    How did this happen without even a clue
    Why did this happen, what did they do?
    Now all over the news and everywhere we look
    Faces of the old and the young all the lives that it took
    How much can we cry, how much can we pray
    What will it take for this horror to go away?
    On the other side of world, know that we’re here
    To help you my homeland, at this time so dear
    “Haven’t you heard what we have lived to learn?” – Robert Frost

    My imagery evokes sympathetic feelings by the examples I gave of the destruction, and how people lost family members. I developed this poem by using my symbol of sympathy to show the thoughtless images of people in need of help. My style is “I write it as it comes”.


  17. April 7th, 2011 at 3:04 pm       Keav'n Says:

    Title: Crash, Nuclear Clears

    Marshes, wet mosses in the deep Japan
    Treachery as we know it
    Such a pity to see
    Clearly a vision such as Europe disbelief of the earth’s shape

    Foolery shows that an event of a nuclear meltdown is 0.1 percent.
    Sadly formation of s strongly explodes… and oppose
    And as we see the drought destruction of a cowardly collapse
    We see running, crying, and sad eyes
    Of deep and dark of pity.
    Strong chaos, just as Vietnam war,
    People fleeing homes of the dominating nations… and nuclear clearings…

    Such sad moments of foolery as I see it
    Yet to the end, we know we are foolish
    And so let it spread… till the end…

    Just hearing the truth that we don’t want to believe, we feel pain and regret. Cause of the event in japan has met; it spreads its sadness and feeling all over the world. Hitting us in a painful wave. And so we feel Japan’s pain in strange news of nuclear meltdown. My poem is an example of our truth to Japan’s pain, revealing it and saying the truth.
    I developed my poem to the middle and the end. I want to start with the climax and show the end to demonstrate clear destruction and misery. Leaving out clear ideas can also bring audience attention to me my style was clearly about pain misery.


    • April 7th, 2011 at 3:07 pm       Keav'n Says:

      i feel stupid to my own poem… what did i write about again Q_Q


    • April 12th, 2011 at 4:35 pm       jccoey Says:

      Keav’n,

      Your style reminds me of e.e. cummings and a little bit of the spontaneous prose Jack Kerouac worked to perfect. Much of your imagery is a rapid-fire collage of phrases and images, which I like because it is both simple and complex. Your tone is prophetic at times.

      Coey


  18. April 7th, 2011 at 2:54 pm       Silvya Garcia Says:

    The Sullen Soldier?
    In Baiji, Iraq,
    Brendan Marocco
    Was on his combat
    Tour, he had been
    Eager to fight in 2008
    But was on patrol
    Or in the base’s gym
    He was an infantryman
    In the army.
    On Easter Sunday
    In 2009
    He sits behind the
    Wheel in an armored vehicle.
    A bomb explodes
    Under his car
    Leaving 1 dead –
    His best friend-
    1 wounded
    1 unharmed
    But he , Brendan
    Loses his four limbs,
    Both his legs and arms.
    He enters the hospital
    Covered in blood,
    With 80 percent of all his blood
    Spilled on the field,
    But the doctors
    Save him and
    “stitch” him back up
    A phoenix rises up
    From his ashes
    And begins his
    New life.
    On Easter Sunday 2009
    Brendan’s life changed
    He could have given up
    But he kept going
    And is now working on rebuilding
    his life.
    This explosion ruined
    Lives, but
    There’s one word:
    Admiration
    That I feel towards
    Brendan Marrocco.
    He kept on living
    After this tragedy.

    My poem is about a 23-year-old veteran who lost his four limbs in an explosion in Iraq. My imagery evokes a feeling of sympathy and compassion by describing the images simply. The poem is based on an article. I didn’t want to write the same exact word that were in the article so I did my best to describe it as best as I could. My style, I guess, is sympathetic and admirational. It’s supposed to be read slow , I guess, since that’s how I read it.


    • April 12th, 2011 at 4:23 pm       Jackie Ward Says:

      wow , this poem shows the harsh realities that solider are aware of , and protect us from . Great Job Silvya !


  19. April 7th, 2011 at 2:51 pm       caroline gomez Says:

    New York, a warm sunny September morning
    A woman and her daughter have woken up early
    Dressed up and ready to go they walk out the door
    On their way to the child’s school with no worries in mind
    Birds chirping and children laughing, the child runs to her class
    Her mother boards bus #42, off to work on this beautiful morning.

    She arrives joyfully having once again succeeded in her morning routine
    Walking to her office happily at ten o clock in the morning
    A calm soothing silence in her office is broken
    Broken by a thundering sound from a few stories below her
    An explosion. A thump. Smoke and fire begin to rise. People scream. She panics.
    Frantically she runs down flights of stairs thinking not of herself but only of her daughter the same as
    Martin Luther King thought of only his people.

    Tragedy has struck. A plane has hit the twin towers. Millions of people are dying
    Some in the towers, burned alive others hundreds of stories below on the streets of New York

    She lies on the stairs, her life fading away like a ray of sun fades into the scary darkness of a chilled night.

    REFLECTION:
    In this poem, the imagery I use gives the reader a sense of tranquility and of a soothing calmness because of the image of the daughter and mother being together on such a pleasant day. In order to develop my poem I just thought of how the events took place that day in real life from what I’ve heard and seen. I tried to remember videos that I saw of 9/11 a few days ago when I was trying to write this poem and of the people. I’m not really sure of what style I used in my poem maybe it could be described as freestyle because its more like a story and what I thought of it was what I wrote.


    • April 12th, 2011 at 4:15 pm       Jasmine Y. Khang Says:

      I like the second stanza.
      It went to a peaceful day and BAAAAAM! A dramatic scene.


    • April 12th, 2011 at 4:19 pm       Michelle Nguyen Says:

      I liked how you used a simile for the last line. I can feel the cold and shivering of the night.


  20. April 7th, 2011 at 2:50 pm       jccoey Says:

    Sikh Mercy

    Elk Grove’s wind blows cool soft and
    The sun slips south
    Pulling at the bright blue sky as one
    Might tug at flannel sheets,
    nestling back into bed, sleeping just a little more.

    Two Sikh men, patriarchal and proud, walked through
    Their suburban beige-hued neighborhood
    For the last time.

    Gurmej Atwal, 78, and Surinder Singh, 65
    look at the darkening sky
    listen to the black bird’s chatter
    not seeing or hearing the doom
    bearing down on them from behind.

    A car screeches to a halt
    Near the two men
    Their faces frozen with Fear and Surprise
    As the merciless gaze of a trained killer
    Focuses intently on the two gentle men
    And they both fall limp to the ground,
    The life seeping from their limp, fragile bodies.

    The car speeds away,
    leaving one man to think
    of his departed friend,
    leaving one man to think
    of his fragile breath,
    leaving one man to ask
    the question why?
    Leaving only the suffering,
    Which Buddha proclaimed
    As a noble truth of existence
    Leaving only the Guru Arjan’s Proposition:
    “Let my mind bank upon the support
    of that Lord
    Contemplating whom joy descends
    and all suffering vanish.”

    Tonight I walk in a fog of fear
    Feeling the icy sting of truth
    The cold embrace of death
    The path of misery
    Feeling defenseless against evil

    In this poem, “Sikh Mercy,” I wanted to create imagery which evokes a feeling of calm and tranquility, yet hints at the misery to follow. When writing this poem, I had to refer to the news article fairly often to locate the information about the shooting. I used several details verbatim from the Sac Bee article. Stylistically, I was aware of parallel structure, repetition, tone, and mood. I feel like I imitated the style of Beat poet, Alan Ginsberg, especially in the third and fourth stanzas. The poem’s tone transitions to a bleak, hopeless, and pessimistic tone, which is exactly how I felt as I learned more about this horrifying experience. I feel so sad for the families involved. I don’t know if I could ever forgive or forget the people who committed theses heinous violent murders.


    • April 13th, 2011 at 8:26 pm       Silvya Garcia Says:

      I definitely feel the same way. I wonder if the people who do this think about what they did and how it changed the lives of the family of the victims.Then I ask to myself knowing that I won’t get an answer “How do they live with themselves knowing that they took another human being’s life,” but thye did it so I guess they don’t have a conscience. It just seems like they are only thinking about themselves and not about the damage that all these crimes cause. Whenever I hear news like this it makes me feel sad and mad at the same time. It’s always awful when you lose a loved one but when they’re taken away from you like this, it’s even worse.


  21. April 7th, 2011 at 2:48 pm       Oscar Says:

    In Tokyo Japan, it is a calm work day
    People going to work and wait at the train station
    A dog names Haichiko waits for his owner
    He weaves through many people
    Haichiko sits in front of the train stop
    Waiting by the bench with gleeful eyes
    His yellow and white fur blows in the breeze
    And when the train station’s clock hits the end of the work day
    His owner steps off and greets Haichiko they walk home
    Only to repeat the process the next day

    A happy professor teaches his students
    Chuckling along with his class
    Until the expression on his face changes
    He stops his lecture and takes a seat
    He stands again then falls to the ground
    The dog sits at the station waiting
    When the train arrives
    He is sadden that his owner is not there
    So he waits and lives as a stray
    For the next decade until he succumbs to old age
    Like George Eliot once said “We long for affection
    Altogether ignorant of our faults. Heaven has accorded this
    To us in the uncritical canine attachment.”
    To think a human would move on after the loss of a friend
    But a dog stays loyal unto the end

    My imagery evokes a feeling by setting up a sad ending. By starting off as a happy story then ending it with a tragic event. I developed my poem by finding it with a tragic story that would be appropriate for writing this type of poem. I also found this story very interesting and that it symbolized loyalty. I would say my style is informative and monotone.


    • April 7th, 2011 at 3:02 pm       Mai Sheng Vang Says:

      I Like your poem how you had the meaning of loyalty to it. The news story you chose was a good one. & how you described it in your poem was good.


  22. April 7th, 2011 at 2:47 pm       Patrick Vue (Ice) Says:

    i like how you compare hitler with her. the style of your poem, is awesome 😀 good job 😛


  23. April 7th, 2011 at 2:45 pm       Vidy Lopez Says:

    A Comfortable Distance
    AUGUST 11, 2010, A HOT NICE
    SUMMER WEDNESDAY.
    I OBSERVE A PETITIE GIRL, FROM THE CORNER OF MY EYE
    SHE’S STANDING BY A POLE PROUDLY
    WEARING HER BLACK EIL BRIDES T-SHIRT.
    BY THE JOYOUS LOOK IN HER EYES, AND
    THE WIDELY SPREAD SMILE ACROSS
    HER FACE,
    SHE CHERISHES THIS MOMENT.

    AN OLDER MAN STANDS COUPLE FEET
    AWAY FROM
    HER.
    HOW BIG AND SCARY HE APPEARS. I COULD SENSE A MALICIOUS
    VIBE COMING FROM HIM.
    HE’S FULL OF HATRED.

    I LOOK AT THE GIRL
    SHE’S ON THE GROUND
    SHE STARES AT THE GUY WITH HER EYES FULL OF HORROW,
    AS BLOOD’S COMING FROM HER NOSE.
    THE SINGER ANDY SIX SHEDS HIS SKIN ON STAGE.
    HE KNOWS WHAT’S HAPPENING.

    SUCH A WISE HUMAN BEING
    GIVES AN INSPIRATIONAL SPEECH,
    DEFENDING THE GIRL.
    “HER VIOLENT LACK OF VIRTUE” WAS HIS WORDS….

    AS I LISTENED TO PANIC! AT THE DISCO THIS MORNING,
    MADE ME REALIZE THAT
    EVERY SINGLE HIMAN BEING PRAYS FOR LOVING.
    WE ARE ALL MINORITIES. 1000 BROKEN HEARTS.
    UP TO THIS DAY, THIS IRRELEVANT SITUATION
    STILL HAUNTS MY SADDENED HEAR.
    I ASK MYSELF QUESTIONS…
    WHAT THE MAN DID,
    DID IT HELP HIM SLEEP BETTER AT NIGHT?
    SO MUCH FOR THE TIME OF HER LIFE.

    Reflection:
    The imagery lets the reader know what the situation is. Each imagery gives you a feeling of joy or tragedy. I developed my poem, as if I was writing a summary of what I had seen that night, but in a more artistic way. The style is that I put an illusion to a band called Panic! At the Disco, not well known for others, but to me they have opened my eyes to a better point of view.


  24. April 7th, 2011 at 2:44 pm       Jason Khammanivong Says:

    Insanity
    Hearing screams in the darkness
    Hearing the screams echoing into the minds
    Who are hearing screams found himself
    Hiding in terror in the covers
    Seeing fire flashing through the covers
    And through the closing eyelids
    Thinking the nightmare came to life,
    Seeing tears falling down the cheeks
    That was too scared too move
    Feeling a demon filled in
    And feeling Hell was the
    Place for the man to live in.
    This poem evokes a feeling of living in fear because it shows a man thinking he is living in hell. The man is hearing screams and voices in his head and can’t get it out, it was based on an online video. In the video, it shows a guy going insane and started to brutally beating his family and got sent to prison. In the poem I described insanity by talking, hearing voices in the head and can’t get it out. I described the prison as hell, seeing fire around him as being trapped behind bars. He started to get scared so he cried and thinking that he deserved to be in prison.


    • April 7th, 2011 at 2:48 pm       Vidy Lopez Says:

      LOVED IT! This made me think so much. Great JOB!


    • April 7th, 2011 at 2:50 pm       Victor Medina Says:

      I like how you depict his insanity. I like “And feeling Hell was the Place for the man to live in”. It gives a clear picture of what life was like for the guy.


    • April 12th, 2011 at 4:12 pm       ricky her Says:

      very stong emotions enveloped in this poem. very well written


    • April 12th, 2011 at 4:18 pm       Kabao Vang Says:

      i like the image you put in your peom..=)


  25. April 7th, 2011 at 2:44 pm       Bee Yang Says:

    Earth, the blue planet,
    Lush and green with vegetation,
    Flooded two-thirds by blue water,
    It is a miracle that of the endless-seeming Milky Way
    Life appears here.

    Earth, the living planet,
    Filled with critters and creatures that
    Makes up the Animal Kingdom
    It is a miracle that life
    Exists.

    Earth, the miracle planet,
    Like Keplar says, “How common
    are other Earths”, of a thousand planets,
    only about fifty might have life.

    Earth, my home planet,
    How I’m glad we exist.
    To enjoy life and play,
    A relief that Earth lives.

    My poem was based on a discovery of other planets outside the Milky Way that may be like Earth and have water and life. Because of only 54 planets out of 1,235 planets, I wrote about how miraculous that our planet has life. My imagery was supposed to evoke a relieved feeling like as if a teacher said that of all 1,235 people who took a teat, only 54 passed and you are one of them. I used the word “Earth” and ended with the word “planet” for the first line of each stanza as a motif. I tried to end each stanza with a relieved ending to confirm the evoked feeling.


    • April 7th, 2011 at 2:53 pm       Mai Sheng Vang Says:

      I like your Poem because of your comparisons how Earth is important to us. Also the words you chose were strong.


    • April 12th, 2011 at 2:42 pm       Cynthia Arriaga Says:

      Your poem had strong imagery about Earth which made me realize how significant we are. And who knows? Maybe one day, those 50 out of a thousand, could actually have life.


    • April 12th, 2011 at 4:17 pm       Kabao Vang Says:

      i like how you show how earth is important to you by putting it in your peom very nice…n happy bday i was here on 04/12/2011


  26. April 7th, 2011 at 2:42 pm       Mai Sheng Vang Says:

    In a mixed over populated universe
    Lies a thin line for racist comments

    It’s everywhere, from the air we breathe in
    To the media we watch

    It’s between crowded homes
    And empty spaces of over priced mansions.

    It only lives in the minds of Ignorants

    This girl who has no manners
    The one who hammered her stupidity online

    Insulting us Asians with needle pins
    Ohhhhhh… Ching Chong Ling Long

    Just like Hilter, she’s discriminating people
    Being a racist with no prior knowledge

    Blashing about a love she never had
    Mad because we’re taught with better manners

    Yes we might talk in the library.
    Yes we may have high pitched accents

    But I know forsure that, out of the blue, we don’t
    Post up racist videos for the world to see

    From the way I wrote my poem, the imagery has a feeling of excitement to see what’s going to happen. From describing the setting it makes the reader think what the poem is about. How I develop my poem was from my feelings after seeing the video. I was mad and offended by what she said. My style of writing starts off from something that isn’t serious to something that is serious.


    • April 7th, 2011 at 2:49 pm       Chai Vang Says:

      i like your imagery!!!!
      very well done:)


    • April 12th, 2011 at 2:31 pm       Mindy Vang Says:

      I like the last 3 stanzas that you wrote and the imagery that you created.


    • April 12th, 2011 at 2:36 pm       Avikesh Narayan (Boba) Says:

      Mai Sheng, you have a well written poem. You have compared the likes of racism to reality. I liked how you proposed that Hitler was a man of no dignity.


    • April 12th, 2011 at 2:37 pm       Cynthia Arriaga Says:

      Even though I’m a different race than you are, I have the same feelings about the discrimination towards any race.


    • April 12th, 2011 at 2:42 pm       Ying Vang Says:

      That’s wassup! (: You tell em! Hahah. I like how you add in Hitler, its very catchy.


  27. April 7th, 2011 at 2:41 pm       Patrick Vue (Ice) Says:

    Noisy…. Noisy…. It is hard to sleep. My brethren are slowly disappearing screaming for help! I look. The streets of a place call Japan. A type of beings calls humans. Vroom, strange machine calls out. Noisy!! My brethren have been turn to dust.
    Rise my sons and daughters! These cruel humans drive them to hell.
    Water crashes into their tall and moving machines.
    My son! Wash away these evils!
    Water rushing through the plain old gravel streets.
    Machine beeping loudly, humans screaming.
    My daughter! Raise your pain and bury them!
    Our devastating terror!
    Our might power! I am the devil of humanity!
    It brings fear! I bring chaos! I am nature!

    The beauty in nature is incomparable, because the beauty keeps humans in awe and blindness. The power within nature is too mighty to control. We humans are the ants to our king, we need to treat it right or terror is seek.
    My imagery evokes a feeling of fear and punishment. I develop my poem by having a mad attitude, towards humanity. My style in the poem is imagery.


  28. April 7th, 2011 at 2:41 pm       Chai Vang Says:

    I lay on the sofa lost in my thoughts
    Looking around and saw a black box
    I remember what it was
    My new toy

    It fits on my hands perfectly
    As if it’s been waiting for me to find it
    And I know it only has a purpose
    When I am in control

    My heart starts beating; excitedly
    As if I was Edgar Allan Poe
    Knowing I’m going to do something cruel

    Yet I didn’t realized what I targeted
    Until it’s been target

    My hand, my body, my soul
    Has witnessed a death

    Could this thing I hold do so much more than I expected
    Like a demon in a human form

    Who would have knew

    This is no longer a toy
    It never was…
    .. It’s a weapon…
    ..and I..
    the murderer


    • April 7th, 2011 at 2:42 pm       Chai Vang Says:

      in the article i read a couple years ago that i refuse to forgotten was a boy playing with his bibi gun and accidently shot through a small babys head; and the baby had died.


      • April 7th, 2011 at 2:44 pm       Chai Vang Says:

        imagining that all these happens made me feel real shock becasue if i was in that boys place i wouldnt know what in the world had happen. all i would think of is “omg. the babys bleeding” and stuff.. but yeahhh


    • April 7th, 2011 at 2:49 pm       Mai Sheng Vang Says:

      I like your allusion, How they both did something cruel. Also after that you describe the boy’s feelings. It was like I was in his position and know what he was going through. (:


    • April 12th, 2011 at 2:30 pm       Avikesh Narayan (Boba) Says:

      I liked what your poem was about. It has a nice story to the background of your poem. I loved the part where you said, “My hand, my body, my soul Has witnessed a death”. That touched my heart and opened a black potral to a black whole.


    • April 12th, 2011 at 2:38 pm       Ying Vang Says:

      I like your poem & i agree with Sheng. It’s like being in his postion, i truly know how it feels just by reading this. (: Great Job.


  29. April 7th, 2011 at 2:36 pm       Victor Medina Says:

    In the wake of a tsunami
    Entire neighborhoods underwater
    Debris floating alongside boats
    The sky is overcast,
    It emphasis Japan’s gloomy situation
    People line the streets in search
    For food, shelter, family

    A man searches for his wife
    Only to discover she is trapped
    In their home, submerged in water
    He is told to wait for help,
    Instead he scrambles to into action
    Finding scuba gear necessary
    For his heroic actions to come

    Diving into the murky waters
    He swims into his underwater home
    Only to find his wife running out of air
    Sharing precious oxygen, they make it to the surface
    Realizing his mother is missing as well,
    He returns to rescue her from a watery grave
    Had he waited, neither would have survived

    This Clint Eastwood character,
    Would not wait twenty minutes,
    Not for the woman he loves

    Even in the wake of a catastrophe,
    It’s love that motivated him
    Even when the world stood against,
    He fought, I don’t know him,
    Not even his name, but I respect,
    And admire him


    • April 7th, 2011 at 2:42 pm       Victor Medina Says:

      In my news poem imagery conveys the two feelings i want the reader to associate with this story. At first the feeling is devastation, loss and tragedy. But then in the last two stanzas, it changes to triumphant and heroic. I developed my poem by order of events and shft in emotion. Which may not have been the msot effective. My style was simple. It was of human preserverance over tragedy, so a little ode aspects are present.


    • April 7th, 2011 at 3:01 pm       Bee Yang Says:

      I like the comparison of the the flooded home and the “watery grave”.


    • April 7th, 2011 at 3:09 pm       Silvya Garcia Says:

      I like the way you transition from the devastation mood to the triumphant and heroic. It changes the tone and I love the line that says “It’s love that motivated him/even when the world stood against,”.


    • April 12th, 2011 at 2:27 pm       caroline gomez Says:

      liike the use of the idea of love




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