April is National Poetry Month and Sound Off is proud to present a variety of poetry styles from local teens on subjects that are both whimsical and dark, clinical and close to the heart. Thanks go to the teens that submitted to us on their own as well as the students at The Watershed Community School for sharing their Creating Writing Elective.
The Little Things
by Zachary A.L. Stern
Perception is a view changing in size.
The people around me, running about;
while I stand there listening to their lies.
Why do all they hustle, bustle, and shout
fancy themselves so well adorned in ties.
But I watch and learn what they try to hide;
they forget the love for life they once had.
In disgust, they glare at my life, implied;
See me as a nuisance barely clad.
Yet, I smile and wave, for them, confide,
for I can only see what they will not.
I am but a blind man tapping with canes,
and they may have my image set in stone,
for they will never see what I have sewn.
Adult comment: Zachary Stern is an accomplished artist (drawings, photography), actor and writer. He also plays the didgeridoo, a wind instrument developed by indigenous Australians, which he played at a recent Open Mic at The Rig.
-Director of The Rig, Frannie Wheeler
Only Snow Flakes
Only Snow Flakes
By Phoebe James
Only Snow Flakes
It’s like taking a stroll.
Down that long pathway,
covered in snow.
And more coming down as if from the heavens themselves.
Powder floating, as I lift my face.
Drops of snow flakes land on my cheeks.
Like their kissing me.
Moonlight shines onto the sea,
this last time for me.
It’s Christmas time, and I’m not home.
With family, and friend, and a warm blanket.
Childhood has fallen,
and I’ve taken to this new world with no filter to my eyes.
It’s blunt, bold, and a bit frightening.
Where as before only the boogey man in the dark could hurt you,
and your Mom would just turn on the light.
But now evil hides itself in the daylight.
So there is no safe haven.
Only snow flakes, kissing your cheeks.
Adult Comment: I really love this poem of Phoebe’s, it is beautiful and very poetic; even though she swears she can not write poetry. This sounds like it was straight from her heart.
-Mother
by Devi Randolph
I made a thousand wishes,
and tossed them in the sea,
where a tiny fish then swallowed them
and swam back to the deep.
At first I wondered where they went
and wondered where they’d be,
if a strange little fish had eaten them,
and didn't let them be!
So then I called for all of them,
to see where they could be,
and figured they were buried deep,
because none came back to me.
So I sailed away and hollered out
to the wished lost to me,
but they had all turned into rocks
at the bottom of the sea."
Author Comment: I Made A Thousand Wishes is one of a series of poems I did recently. I would draw a picture--any picture--and write about afterwords.
Adult Comment: Devi has always had a deep sense of the whimsical. Talking mice, interactive seaweed, and animated cats have always been the staples of her imagination. Why, at one time, we had over 1,000 mice roaming in our house...many with individual personalities and intricate interactions. I suppose it is not a stretch that she would write a poem about the journey of a wish or a conversation between the moon and a goldfish. I can't wait to see where the inventiveness takes her!
-Mother, Maria Randolph
Blinded
by Jenny Karod
You
You with your eyes so blind
Ignoring the reality
You’re drowning in
Listless
You’re screaming
Screaming at the top of your lungs
But what for?
No one is listening
You wait
Wait for a sound
A reason
A point
But you won’t find one here
For this is your invention
This never-ending limbo of time
Suffocating
Choking the life out of you
Drowning the person I once knew
Angry tears
Crimson in the moonlight
You turn away
Love written on every page
Blankly you sit there
The darkness sharing your loss
The loss of friendship
Love
A lost passion you will never forget
This lethal poison
Seeps into your skin
As the razor of lies cut deeper and deeper
The truth scarlet against the ivory pallor of your skin
Blood spills
But this is your gain
Your invention
Your lie
Another twisting tale that never ends
People fall in a pile at your feet
Bending to catch the tears shed
Never seeing the game that you play
You played it well
For this is your gain
The web of lies spun from truth
This is for you
You never saw the briny tears
The shock pouring through my veins
Never asked
Not a word
Now you’re tangled up
In the sticky web woven by your shaking hands
You’ve fallen down
No one can help you
Only you can distinguish the truth
For your heart knows what your head is denying
Warnings came to you from everywhere
In your ignorance you passed them by
But the sunny days will come
Sunny rays smiling brightly
Penetrating the darkness
Your heart will lighten
With every smile
With every word
You can be your own savior
A strength that forms a barrier against the sadness that consumes you
We can’t save you
Our words mean nothing
Your time has come
This is for you
Author Comment: I often draw inspiration from life that surrounds me and the people that I meet along the way. Writing gives me a sense of calm even in the most confusing of times, so really this poem was inspired by a time that I went through that hit me emotionally. People say write things from what you know, so that is what I did here. In the end, what it did was clarify the part that was difficult, so I could move on.
Adult Comment: Jenny's inspirational poem signifies the beginning of her own transition into adulthood and the start of her own journey as a writer.
-English Teacher, Jennifer Munson
Watershed Community School
Poems From The Creative Writing Elective
Poems reprinted with permission from Watershed Community School students
These poems were written by juniors and seniors in the creative writing elective at Watershed. Some were written at home and then presented in class; others were impromptus written spontaneously in class in 10-minute bursts. The idea behind many of the writing exercises was to play with language by inviting words to play unexpected roles: in the no-verbs poems, fast-moving verbs are pushed to the side of the road and the less speedy descriptive words like adjectives and adverbs take over. In the cliche-parody poem we took the cliche "life is a bowl of cherries," substituting another abstract noun for life, another kind of container for bowl, and a different kind of fruit for cherries.
--Instructor Brian Boyd
Blueberry Mornings
A No-Verbs Poem Using Five Adverbs
by Clio Berta
Little petals with carefully
Smartly food crumbs
blueberry mornings and strawberry
milk from cows
kids from sleep in night,
morning
drowsy
gently
Here the breakfast table
Strongly the food here,
the kids here now
butterflies and flowers with dew
fretfully hello to earth
and kids bright and surprising
a joy of
Here is the breakfast table
carefully smartly gently
strongly fretfully yum
Stand
by Clio Berta
Seeing
pink
shoes
charms
wrist
You
hello
I can’t
wait!
Yes,
Really?
Street
Golden tar
stand
toes
balance and
pressure on
Pink
sun
there is
Me, You
I say
No
Poem-parody of cliche “life is a bowl of cherries”
by Clio Berta
Experience is like a basket of tangerines.
Peeling, peeling away.
The bright orange jumps out at you,
you see it and wonder and hesitate.
Then by touch you feel it is soft,
soft and thinkable and friendly.
Squish squash,
and then you bite.
You can taste the orange, bright object
the jumping one in your hand.
Its juice gets your skin sticky.
It’s is on you and in you and around you.
It’s there jumping in orange,
with orange for you.
The tangerine is experience.
Spring Storm
by Hannah Haendschke
Greenest grass
absorbing
muddy mass.
Feet
splashing
rhythm.
Drops
hammering
synthetic jackets.
Music
drowning
humanity.
I love rain,
I say.
I love rain,
I say again.
I love rain.
Nobody hears.
You and me
sat
in the rain.
I love rain,
I said.
I love rain,
I said, again.
I love rain,
you said.
And started to sing.
Did the rain wash you away in the end?
I walk
and sing
Splish, Splash
your song
of rain.
I loved you.
Youth Night Life
by Hannah Haendschke
Guts drunken-
Hearts drowned in two hour wisdom-
Thoughts fertilized by poisoned side street air-
Flesh moving to praise our freedom
Convinced.
Shouting solutions
until-
light ships reality.
Dim brick building light
absorbed
by morning sponge.
-orange-
Cement tongues
taste
the truth of the morning.
Strawberries
(Verbless poem with 5 adverbs)
by Sophie Davis
Translucently strong
below you
wearily blind by brightness
strawberries
strings of golden red
fiendishly devilish
twistingly
green and sharp vines
knives and stolen silver
hysterically scarlet
juicy
delicious.
Concession poem
by Sophie Davis
I don’t believe that clouds fly on greasy air
that soot layers gently
beneath curled orange peels
that towers topple
from the weight of
seven billion
I don’t believe that a switch
can turn it off,
that a switch can
make the leaves uncurl
the sprouts leaf out and
the lake glitter,
but, look at the water
the enormous lake that is
our world
the islands that could disappear
but not while we’re still here.
Look at the comfort of our
Reality.
If history were a weather report, it would always be partly sunny
look at the twinkling water.
No. I don’t believe that clouds fly on greasy air.
No verbs poem
by Fiona Boyd
The pond diaphanous
golden shades and
purple streaks
I clairvoyant
with fish – their breakfast
lunches and dinners
Tightly clouds
mist and fins
docile
even ripples and
greenery
Selfishly I
splish splash
slimy and wonderful
goldfish and newts
refraction and pond weed
The water
a city.
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