So I decided that it would be fun to post some of the poetry I have been writing for creative writing class, so here are the four we have done so far.
Assignment one: Write about a vivid memory from childhood using sensory images.
Dad and I
perched atop Mt. Baldy’s frigid summit, numbed to the bone.
Silhouetted against noon’s gloomy grey skies we descend.
Down.
Down the first black-diamond run
of my ten year life.
Frozen air bites my exposed ear lobes
as the sight of steep bleached snow bellow
is blurred by my fogging breath.
Slush, ice, and skis combine for a sinister harmony
like breaking bones and shredding metal,
sending shivers down my already quaking spine.
I envision the sounds being matched;
My bones breaking, my skis shredding.
Feeling near death’s brink,
I rejoice when I see smoke rising from the ski lodge bellow.
I’m warm now.
The flames dance at my feet
while the singing embers ring
through my tingling red ears.
My feet, at last released from the plastic red ski boot prison
enjoy freedom as the plush purple carpet tickles between my toes.
I smell the hot chocolate coming, but
it burns all the way down.
A small price for it invigorating warmth.
So we sit together, dry warm and happy,
on a day when I knew nothing more could go right.
Dad and I.
Assignment two: Write a poem that employs an extended metaphor.
"Papers"
A sheet of paper is a remarkable thing.
It is easily bent, torn, or burned.
It blows with the wind and falls with the leaves.
It cannot move of its own free will,
but must be directed and formed.
But a paper can also be more solid than stone.
It can be more valuable than gold.
It can be more beautiful than the stars.
A child is also a remarkable thing.
It is easily persuaded, influenced, and molded.
It blows with chastisement and falls with conformity.
It cannot do things of its own free will,
But must be disciplined and directed.
But a child can also be more immovable than a mountain.
It can be more valuable than diamonds.
It can be more beautiful than a sunset.
A paper can be anything
given the right printing, size, and authority.
Be it currency, diplomas, or works of art.
Just as a child can be anything
given the right teaching, examples, and opportunity.
Be it a banker, a scientist, or an artist.
The possibilities a contained in one small child
Are as limitless as a blank paper.
Assignment three: Write a poem that includes a voice other than your own. (no offense on this one Torrie)
"Literally"
They literally talk like they are two.
They are fifteen, but they talk like they are two.
They are the sophomores from high school.
They are so stupid-status.
They are also really lame-status.
Wannabe-status.
Pathetic-status.
I just think, OMG.
WTF.
They say, “BRB”.
I hope not.
Like, for realsies.
They literally make me want to kill myself.
They are def the most illiterate people I know.
Oops, can’t say illiterate.
That has more than three syllables.
Smart-status.
They totes need to grow up.
For seriously.
They literally talk like that.
Assignment four: Write a sylabic poem using a unique but significant number of sylables in each line.
"LOST"
The plane went down
one hundred miles off of course.
We crash-landed on this island; they’re looking in the wrong place.
Forty-eight lived.
Oceanic flight 815
departed from gate b15, going from Sydney to LA.
We should not have
survived. But fate has plans for us.
The island has plans for all of us. We are the candidates.
One of us will
stay here forever to protect
the island. It stops the evil from spreading around the world.
The Others will
sabotage us, murder us, and
then pretend to be one of us. Because this is their island
Four. Eight. Fifteen.
Sixteen. Twenty-three. Forty-two.
We all were lost before this. Lost and insecure. You found me.
So there you go. My poetry over the past 2 weeks. More to come soon!
