Cat

I love my cool cat

She's fun and always active

Cute and cuddly!

HAIKU

I do love haikus

Even though they restrict your

Poetic freedom.

Here I'm Safe

I can feel it whirling outside
Floorboards creak
And the mighty power surrounds me
But even when the lights are gone
And candles are our only light
I know I'm safe here.
Safe here, baking cookies
Fire in the hearth
Wind whirls outside,
hurls branches at us,
tries to blow us down like the big bad wolf (bad simile, I know, but it's funny and it's true).
But here I'm safe
Safe as I read poems,
listen to music,
drink hot cocoa.
Oh, outside there is a battle raging
Wind chimes clatter
Branches snap
Leaves scatter.
But here I'm safe.

Lilly

My cat, here she sits

In the hours of twilight

And her tail gently flits 

To the left and the right.

Her complete lack of fear

 Her eyes glisten with light

This cat will stay here

For the rest of the night.

Hurricane

I look through the eye of a hurricane.
I see the places it touches,
bringing only destruction.
I look through the eye of the hurricane.
I hear only the rustling of a thousand leaves,
and the wind howling by.
I look through the eye of the hurricane.
I feel death in my lungs,
something every hurricane wishes to put upon us.
I look through the eye of the hurricane.
I taste expectations,
Everyone waiting for the next weather report, hoping for good news.
I look through the eye of the hurricane
I smell death and decay,
for a hurricane is one who contains no good.

A Distant Dream

One night I dreamed that I could fly
To sadness, death I said good-bye
I soared way up above fear and pain
Where friendship and kindness were clear and plain
Where no one cared what clothes you wore
Or if your clothes were from a certain store
Where love was full and real to me
The place we all wish we could be.
But while you sit and dream of this
There are opportunities you will miss.
You can make that life happen if you try really hard
Start by sending your faraway loved ones a card
Be the change in the world that you want to see.
Chase your dreams, do what's right be kind to your family.
Be kind to everyone, and yourself as well.
Be polite, respectful and try not to yell!
Remember, it's not what you've done
But it is what you do
Every day you start fresh, every day you are new
You're really quite tough, and you should always have hope
That with problems and obstacles you'll be able to cope.
If you do this and more,
You might start to say
"Wow, that distant dream isn't so far away."

Things that I love

I love brownies,
cake,
my family,
things that I make,

cats,
dogs,
writing,
making blogs,

skiing,
being with someone,
drawing,
having fun,

pizza,
steak,
looking through magazines,
for something to bake,

laughter,
doing my hair,
summer,
The Fryerburg Fair.

      

Fall Leaves

I love fall.
The crunching of leaves underfoot,
the beautiful trees, coated in reds, oranges and yellows,
It all just enchants me.
It brings me to a state of peace.
But fall is to me, the quickest season of the year.
And when fall leaves,
I feel as if it began only a day ago.

Cats

I own one cat. No two, no three!

and they are as cute as cats can be.

I have a black cat sporting some white,

he's dressed in a tux, going out at night.

My next cat is the color yellow,

She's really shy, and nice and mellow.

My third cat is a mix of colors,

she's everything, unlike the others.

I love my cats, they're so nice to me,

and they are as cute, as cats can be!

My Fall Poems

Wow, guys! We haven't posted in SO long!!!!!! Ok, now to the point. Here is my collection of poems by ME!!!!!!!

Fall Poem #1 (I know, what a creative title)

Leaves crunch underfoot

Fall's fireworks exploding

In the neon trees.

Fall Poem #2

The trees are changing

Some are green, like no one told them summer was over

And some are bare, as if they've been waiting for this all year.

Sky so blue above them

They glow in the chilly rays

Stained-glass fall leaves

I'm falling for fall!

I have a suggestion for a blog rule: NO PUTTING DOWN OTHERS' POEMS. It's mean and makes people feel bad about their writing. Agreed?

Color Poems

                                                   _Yellow                                                  

_{Sunshine filtering into a room}

_{Dandelions filling an unkempt field}

_{The puckering of lips after tasting a lemon
All these are signs of yellow.}

           

_Blue

_{The deepest sea}

_{The sky with such a blue I never get tired of looking at it}

_{If I could only see in one color,}

_{It would be blue.}

_Red

_{Some people like red,}

_{They think it is soothing.}

_{But to me,}

_{Red is bloodshed on a battlefield}

_{Lava pulling me in}

_{Fire so hot, it burns me from a mile away}

_{Bad dreams.}

_Green

_{I can never get away from green}

_{Outside on the leaves and the grass}

_{Sometimes hiding itself in the back of my mind}

_{My brother’s favorite color,}

_{in my teacher’s classroom.}

_{It is following me,}

_{but I don’t notice.}

_{Because I know green like a friend}

_{and green knows me.}

_Purple

_{Purple is like my mother,}

_{It can take on many shades.}

_{Bright and soothing}

_{Dark and moody}

_{I don’t mean to embarrass her.}

_{At least not enough to make her turn the color}

_Purple.

My Big Brother's Poems

I am not the only one in the family who writes poems. My big brother does too.
Some of the poems are hard. So you might need to read them more than once.


Snow day
By David Shurland

On a beautiful winter day
a child plays in the snow
covered like a powdered doughnut
the cold wet flakes suck heat from chubby cheeks
leaving them bright red
cool crisp air
bites my nose
my joy still distracts me
pure enjoyment
no worries or appointments
a whole day of ice and snow
an ideal life.






Down By The Lake
By David Shurland

glimmering rippling waves
crashing against the shore
shoes tapping on the wooden dock
people chattering
a herd of wooden rowboats
knocking on hollow wood
a clear blue sky
lungs full of fresh air
breeze blowing through loose clothing
sun shining down
trees swaying by the wood
an ideal day by the lake.





Nothing
By David Shurland

So much depends upon
nothing
the innovations that consumes us
most are unseen and unheard
impossible to touch
but to us they are real
so much waits beneath your fingertips
but is it really worth your time?
what if it all disappeared in one day?
could we live?

Difficult Poems by Maddy

On this blog

We write poems (duh!)

But did anyone mention how hard it is?

Haikus.

Sonnets.

Rhyming poems.

Shape poems.

Limericks.

Similes.

Metaphors.

Vivid language.

AAAAHHH!!!

A blank piece of paper glares at you

Daring you to write something

Anything!

A poem can be anything

Or nothing at all.

A poem can be about anything

Or nothing at all.

Here I am, writing a poem about writing a poem!

Poems are dragons breathing fiery words

And we are the pencil-wielding knights

Desperately trying to fend off the dragon that is a poem.

Amazing Tongue Twister!

Esau Wood sawed wood. Esau Wood would saw wood. Oh, the wood that Wood would saw! One day Esau Wood saw a saw saw wood as no other woodsaw Wood ever saw would saw wood. Of all the woodsaws Wood ever saw saw wood, Wood never saw a woodsaw that would saw wood like the woodsaw Wood saw would saw wood. Now Esau Wood saws with that saw he saw saw wood.

See if you can understand it!

Esau is pronounced as: eesaw

Poetry Power Points

Here are some power points (I did not make) about poetry and the best way to write it.



Poetry power points

The Colors of The Sky By Maddy

I asked myself why the sky is blue.
I asked my mother and father, too.
But when I talked about the sky
They couldn't find a good reply.

I looked outside one rainy day
And said, "Why is the sky so grey?"
I asked Amanda, but had no luck.
Might as well have asked a duck.

One evening I watched the sunset overhead
And wondered, "Why's the sky so red?"
This time I asked the Internet.
But it was no smarter than my tv set.

THE. SENTENCE. GUY.

HI.
I'M.
THE.
SENTENCE.
GUY.
AND.
SENTENCES.
ARE.
WHAT.
I.
DO.

THIS.
SILLY.
WRITER.
CAPS.
LOCKED.
EVERY.
WORD.
ALONG.
WITH.
A.
PERIOD.
TOO.


Try reading this like a poem. If you look at it, it actually rhymes! Do and Too are the rhyming words.

Favorite Seasons By Rachel

There cannot be  favorite seasons,
And I'm here to tell you why
I could prove it with some reasons
I have a huge supply.

Spring is blooming flowers
buds squished flat on the ground
Lots of warm rain showers,
in wich I'll play around.

But it seems too long of a wait
for summer to come in full swing
and I begin to hate
the beautiful season of spring.

Once summer is here,
and I'm out of school
 I jump in the clear,
cold swimming pool .                          

But summer is hot
the sun hurts my skin
and I begin to not
like the season I'm in.

Fall is so nice,
in a color kind of  way                  
they give the season a spice
red, orange, brown leaves, blow astray.

But the season of  school  
may not be a good choice
only a fool
likes to hear the teacher's voice.

Winter means snow snowing
falling silently all day long
you hear the blizzard growing
singing it's icy song.

But you miss the the heat of the glaring sun
the bird's high pitched song,
But you soon realize you can have some wintery fun
though each day isn't very long.

There cannot be favorite seasons
and think I've explained why
I had proven it with some reasons
I had no shortage in supply.                                                                                                        

Haikus

I have decided 

To write only in haikus.

It is a challenge!

Poem Sites

If you would like to see some Robert Frost poems, visit this site:

Poet: Robert Frost - All poems of Robert Frost

but this site is also really cool because you can search any poem or poet so here is the site itself:

PoemHunter.Com - Thousands of poems and poets. Poetry Search Engine

A poem by good ole Robert Frost

A Considerable Speck

(Microscopic)

A speck that would have been beneath my sight
On any but a paper sheet so white
Set off across what I had written there.
And I had idly poised my pen in air
To stop it with a period of ink
When something strange about it made me think,
This was no dust speck by my breathing blown,
But unmistakably a living mite
With inclinations it could call its own.
It paused as with suspicion of my pen,
And then came racing wildly on again
To where my manuscript was not yet dry;
Then paused again and either drank or smelt--
With loathing, for again it turned to fly.
Plainly with an intelligence I dealt.
It seemed too tiny to have room for feet,
Yet must have had a set of them complete
To express how much it didn't want to die.
It ran with terror and with cunning crept.
It faltered: I could see it hesitate;
Then in the middle of the open sheet
Cower down in desperation to accept
Whatever I accorded it of fate.
I have none of the tenderer-than-thou
Collectivistic regimenting love
With which the modern world is being swept.
But this poor microscopic item now!
Since it was nothing I knew evil of
I let it lie there till I hope it slept.

I have a mind myself and recognize
Mind when I meet with it in any guise
No one can know how glad I am to find
On any sheet the least display of mind. 

Robert Frost

I just adore Kenn Nesbitt!!!!

Poetry for Kids by Kenn Nesbitt

My Dog Likes to Disco My doggy likes to disco dance. He boogies every night. He dances in his doghouse till the early morning light. The other dogs come running when they hear my doggy swing. A few will play their instruments. The others dance and sing. They pair off with their partners as their tails begin to wag. They love to do the bunny hop, the fox trot and the shag. You'll see the doghouse rockin' as a hundred dogs or more all trip the light fantastic on the doghouse disco floor. At last, at dawn, they exit in the early morning breeze, and stop to sniff the fire hydrants, bushes, lawns and trees. I just don't understand it for although it looks like fun. I can't see how they fit inside that doghouse built for one.   --Kenn Nesbitt Kenn Nesbitt's Poetry for Kids

Copyright © 2004 Kenn Nesbitt. All Rights Reserved.

Kenn Nesbitt

Earlier, I tried out some of his Poems to see if anyone liked them. If you did, here is the author's biography from his site:

Who I Am

I am 50 years old and I was born on February 20, 1962 in Berkeley, California. I grew up in Fresno and San Diego, California.

I now live in a big old house in Spokane, Washington, with my wife Ann, our son Max and our daughter Madison. We have two cats named Raki and Sambuca.

My Poetry

My first children's poem -- Scrawny Tawny Skinner -- was written in 1994 after having dinner with a friend whose 4-year-old daughter did everything she could to get out of eating her dinner. Shortly after that, I wrote two more poems, My Foot Fell Asleep and Binkley. During 1995 and 1996, I wrote about three or four poems a year (including You Can Never Be Too Careful and A Meloncholy Tale, whenever the mood struck me. (All of these poems, by the way, appear in the book My Foot Fell Asleep.)

In early 1997 I decided I would like to write an entire book of children's poems. In 1998, I published my first collection of poetry, entitled My Foot Fell Asleep. I published a sequel called I've Seen My Kitchen Sink in 1999 and a third book, Sailing Off to Singapore, in 2000. The Aliens Have Landed at Our School! was published by Meadowbrook Press and is distributed by Simon and Schuster. My first collection of poems about school, When the Teacher Isn't Looking: and Other Funny School Poems was published by Meadowbrook Press in 2005. In 2006 Meadowbrook also published a of Christmas poems I co-authored with Linda Knaus entitled Santa Got Stuck in the Chimney. My newest book is another collection of funny school poems entitled Revenge of the Lunch Ladies. My next book, My Hippo Has the Hiccups: And Other Poems I Totally Made Up is coming out in spring, 2009.

If you think he's cool, here are some of his poems:

My Teacher Ate My Homework

My teacher ate my homework, Which I thought was rather odd. He sniffed at it and smiled with an approving sort of nod. He took a little nibble -- it's unusual, but true -- then had a somewhat larger bite and gave a thoughtful chew. I think he must have liked it, for he really went to town. He gobbled it with gusto and he wolfed the whole thing down. He licked off all his fingers, gave a burp and said, "You pass." I guess that's how they grade you when you're in a cooking class. --Kenn Nesbitt Copyright © 2009 Kenn Nesbitt All Rights Reserved I Taught My Cat to Clean My Room I taught my cat to clean my room, to use a bucket, brush and broom, to dust my books and picture frames, and pick up all my toys and games. He puts my pants and shirts away, and makes my bed, and I should say it seems to me it's only fair he puts away my underwear. In fact, I think he's got it made. I'm not too happy with our trade. He may pick up my shoes and socks, but I clean out his litterbox. --Kenn Nesbitt Copyright © 2009 Kenn Nesbitt All Rights Reserved Please Don't Read This Poem Please don't read this poem. It's only meant for me. That's it. Just move along now. There's nothing here to see. Besides, I'm sure you'd rather just go outside and play. So put the poem down now and slowly back away. Hey, why are you still reading? That isn't very nice. I've asked you once politely. Don't make me ask you twice. I'm telling you, it's private. Do not read one more line. Hey! That's one more. Now stop it. This isn't yours; it's mine. You're not allowed to read this. You really have to stop. If you don't quit this instant, I swear I'll call a cop. He'll drag you off in handcuffs. He'll lock you up in jail, and leave you there forever until you're old and frail. Your friends will all forget you. You won't be even missed. Your family, too, will likely forget that you exist. And all because you read this instead of having fun. It's too late now, amigo; the poem's nearly done. There's only one solution. Here's what you'll have to do: Tell all your friends and family they shouldn't read it too. --Kenn Nesbitt

Copyright © 2009 Kenn Nesbitt
All Rights Reserved




These poems and information about the author are from: http://www.poetry4kids.com/

Moonrise

This is a poem in progress. I think it's coming along.

I sit apon my cold stone steps
waiting in the fading twilight.
I look at the darkening sky
watching for the night.

As a blanket of darkness fills the sky
I know it will come soon
for the darkness of the night will come
with the rising of the moon.

A Poem I wrote at 10:21 PM last night

Here is my fantastic poem!

Weekend Mornings

 In the early weekend mornings

After the darkness of the night

I open up the window shade and in pours all the light.

I listen to the chirping birds

I listen and I see

The stunning orange sunrise like they made it just for me.

No loud imposing voices

No pounding on the stair

Just nature claiming moments that it shouldn't have to share.

So preserve the stunning sunrise.

Save the chirping of the birds. 

For soon enough along this path it no longer will be yours.

Some Fun Poems

Here are some fun and silly poems by Kenn Nesbitt:

Timbuktu

I'll tell you of a man I knew who claimed he came from Timbuktu. He said, "I have the world to see!" So off he went to Timbukthree. Then Timbukfour and Timbukfive were where he seemed to come alive. He went to Timbuksix and -seven, and Timbukeight, -nine, -ten, -eleven. Then Timbuktwelve and -thirteen too, he liked them more than Timbuktu. The last I heard, he's doing fine. He lives in Timbukninetynine. So, kids, if all you ever do is take a trip to Timbuktu, at least you'll have a lot more fun than staying home in Timbukone. But if you have the world to see... continue on to Timbukthree. --Kenn Nesbitt Copyright © 2009 Kenn Nesbitt All Rights Reserved My Puppy Punched Me In The Eye My puppy punched me in the eye. My rabbit whacked my ear. My ferret gave a frightful cry and roundhouse kicked my rear. My lizard flipped me upside down. My kitten kicked my head. My hamster slammed me to the ground and left me nearly dead. So my advice? Avoid regrets; no matter what you do, don't ever let your family pets take lessons in kung fu. --Kenn Nesbitt Copyright © 2009 Kenn Nesbitt All Rights Reserved All My Great Excuses I started on my homework but my pen ran out of ink. My hamster ate my homework. My computer's on the blink. I accidentally dropped it in the soup my mom was cooking. My brother flushed it down the toilet when I wasn't looking. My mother ran my homework through the washer and the dryer. An airplane crashed into our house. My homework caught on fire. Tornadoes blew my notes away. Volcanoes struck our town. My notes were taken hostage by an evil killer clown. Some aliens abducted me. I had a shark attack. A pirate swiped my homework and refused to give it back. I worked on these excuses so darned long my teacher said, "I think you'll find it's easier to do the work instead." --Kenn Nesbitt Copyright © 2009 Kenn Nesbitt All Rights Reserved These poems are from the website: http://www.poetry4kids.com/

Some Favorite Poems

This is by e. e. cummings. He wanted to prove that you don't always have to follow the rules for good poetry!

maggie and milly and molly and may

maggie and millie and molly and may
went down to the beach(to play one day)

and  maggie discovered a shell that sang
so sweetly she couldn't remember her troubles, and

millie befriended a stranded star
whose rays five languid fingers were;

and molly was chased by a horrible thing
which raced sideways while blowing bubbles: and

may came home with a smooth round stone
as small as a world and as large as alone.

For whatever we lose (like a you or a me)
it's always ourselves we find in the sea.


Like it?

Here's another poem. It's by  Noel Coward.


The Boy Actor


I can remember, I can remember
The months of November and December
Were filled for me with peculiar joys
So different from those of other boys.
For other boys would be counting the days
Until end of term and holiday time;
But I was acting in Christmas plays
While they were taken to pantomimes.
I didn't envy their new suits,
Their children's dances and Christmas trees;
My life had wonderful substitutes
For such conventional treats as these.
I didn't envy their country larks,
Their organized games in paneled halls,
While they made snowmen in stately parks,
I was counting the curtain calls.

I remember the auditions, the nerve-racking auditions,
Darkened auditorium, and empty, dusty stage;
Little girls in ballet dresses practicing positions,
Gentlemen with pince-nez asking you your age.
Hopefulness and nervousness struggling within you,
Dreading that familiar phrase: "Thank you dear, no more."
Straining every muscle, every tendon, every sinew,
To do your dance much better than you'd ever done before.
Think of your performance! Never mind the others,
Never mind the pianist; talent must prevail;
Never mind the baleful eyes of other children's mothers
Glaring from the corners, and willing you to fail.

I can remember, I can remember,
The months of November and December
Were more significant to me
than other months could ever be.
For they were the months of high romance
When destiny waited on tip toe
When every boy actor stood a chance
Of getting into a Christmas show.
Not for me the dubious heaven
of being some prefect's protege;
Not for me the second eleven;
For me, two performances a day.

Ah, those first rehearsals! Only very few lines,
Rushing home to Mother, learning them by heart,
'Enter left, through window.' Dots to mark the cue lines.
'Exit with the others.' Still, it WAS a part.
Opening performance, legs a bit unsteady,
Dedicated tension shivers down my spine;
Powder, grease and eye black, sticks of makeup ready,
Leichner number three and number five and number nine.
World of strange enchantment! Magic for a small boy
Dreaming of the future, reaching for the crown,
Rigid in the dressingroom, listening for the call-boy:
'Overture, beginners! Everybody down!'

I can remember, I can remember,
The months of November and December
Although climatically cold and damp
Meant more to me than Aladdin's lamp.
I see myself, having got a job
Walking on wings along the Strand;
Uncertain whether to laugh or sob,
And clutching tightly my mother's hand.
I never cared who scored the goal,
Or which side won the silver cup;
I never learned to bat or bowl,
But I heard the curtain going up.

It's long, but it's a GREAT poem!!!!!!

Funny Poems Home Made

1. Yankee Doodle Mix-up


Yankee Doodle went to town
Riding on Obama.
He had to get off really quick
'Cause presidents have trauma!

2. Epitaph


Here lies Madeline.
She drove into a big street sign.
She never really learned to drive
And now she's no longer alive.

Isn't that upbeat!

3. Limerick


There once was a cow from the zoo.
She was taken ill with the flu.
But once she was well
No one ever could tell
If she'd ever stop turning blue.

Exaggeration Poem

          Here is an exaggeration poem:

My Mom Is Better Than Your Mom
My mom is better than your mom.
The oatmeal she makes is so good for me I could bench press 100 pounds when I was five.
She says "Have a bright day," as I walk out the door, ready to get straight A’s in school.
She makes spinach and Brussels sprouts so delicious I always ask for seconds.
People are always telling her, "You’re so beautiful, you should be a model." But she always responds, "It’s not your outer beauty but your inner beauty that counts most."
She never nags me to do my homework. Instead, she asks "How are you doing with your
homework? Need some help?" I never do. I want her to be proud of me.
And when she puts me to bed at night, she tucks me, gives me a kiss,
and I’m asleep—just like that.
My mom is nicer than your mom.

Here are some fun limerics:

THER ONCE WAS AN OLD MAN FROM PERU

There was an old man from Peru, who dreamed he was eating his shoe. He awoke in the night with a terrible fright, and found out that it was quite true. THERE ONCE WAS A FELLOW NAMED TIM There once was a fellow named Tim whose dad never taught him to swim. He fell off a dock and sunk like a rock. And that was the end of him. THERE ONCE WAS A YOUNG GIRL NAMED JILL There once was a young girl named Jill. Who was scared by the sight of a drill. She brushed every day So her dentist would say, “Your teeth are so perfect; no bill.”

A Journey

Here is a poem I really like:






I journey through my soul
Trying to find a way inside
I journey through my heart
Trying to listen to my mind
I journey through the truth
For which I've never known
I journey by myself
I journey all alone
My heart tries to discover
The truth it was never told
But will I ever find it
The longing extremely bold
But when that day comes 
When the truth is discovered
I will finally understand
My heart will be recovered

Welcome!

Hello There! Welcome to poetry for people! Where anyone can post their own poems or their favorite ones, read other's poems , and even suggest different sites to visit! April is poetry month. So jot down your ideas and write, write, write!