Poetry day!
You use your senses twenty-four hours a day. Smell, taste, hear, see, and feel come into play in everything that we do. I would like you to write a poem about senses. You can make it about them (how you use them), or it can be a descriptive poem about something else where you use your senses to describe this other event/item.
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I'm still kind of in the halloween mood so I will write a poem about when we were walking through the "graveyard" at valley scare.
ReplyDeleteI take a cautious step
heart beating, hands writhing
clutched close agaisnt my body.
I peer through the fog,
a futile attempt to see
what is lurking beyond.
My ears become victim to an onslaught of sound
Screams that pierce the stillness
shrieking, then dying back down,
settling in the mist.
The night air feels raw
agaisnt my face, creeping in
to settle under my jacket
the cold biting like
the deadman around every corner
With my eyes closed,
ReplyDeleteI touch everything around me,
Instantly knowing what surrounds me,
With my eyes open I see what it is,
Wheather it's hers or his,
or colorful or boring,
you'll never know untill you see what it could be,
Next is smell,
Smelling can be fun,
unless you come upon and onion,
or garbage or diapers,
Though good smells are more often,
like perfumes,and pastries,
all sorts of things tasty,
Then there is hear,
we hear lots of things,
from rumors and trains to people that sing,
hearing is quite nice, yet also surprising,
just like taste when something tasty is uprising,
for people love food,
this is why we get large,
from tasting sweets,
like cakes, cookies and bars.
I love my senses,
they help complete me to be the person i want to be!
jenni Gust
So I started to write this poem a couple of years ago, and I just recently finished it. Poetry is llike that sometimes. It just writes itself.
ReplyDeleteRed. Not pink or scarlet or blood.
Just red.
Red that stains the searing pain,
red that paints the sky.
Red that glistens, shining on the
wettest desert sand.
Red that plants a tulip bulb
and red that creeps upon a face.
Red that drops the ball of sun,
red that sweetens berries,
and red that measures hearts.
Red that is not a mistake.
Red that is red.
Not pink or scarlet or blood.
Just red.
Each leg is pushing farther and farther
ReplyDeleteEach time I breath, I breath harder
Each time my eyes focus, I am ready
Each heartbeat is fast and steady.
Through the start and through the middle
It becomes a darkness,
The chimes of the roar start to dwindle.
My steps are counted by my beating heart
My breath has escaped in this lost art.
I can see it coming, closer, closer
I can feel the pounding, harder, harder
My mind, all is gone
My senses, all is lost
It happened to the final ones
We will do it again at any cost.
I hear the creaking
ReplyDeleteas we go up, up and up.
My heart starts beating
As I start to hear all the screaming.
We reach the top,
My hands start shaking.
The bottom is so far down.
I count down the seconds.
Finally, we drop.
As we're falling I can smell the cold air biting at my nose.
I hold my partner close.
The ride is done now.
I allow myself to catch my breath.
I swear I thought I was near death.
I don't really know poem formats...so I tried :)
The night is dark
ReplyDeleteit is hard to see
it is quite
nothing moves
not a sound
the moon comes out
the night comes alive
wolves howl
crickets churp
the wind blows
it brings a sweet scent
the trees creak and sway
the stars make their entrance
they seem so close but yet so far
you can almost touch them but cannot
critters move through the shadows
avoiding any conflicts
a distant owl makes his call
it is a whole new world
with much to be discovered
Benjamin Mosey
I pull the bars down
ReplyDeleteI get butterflies in my stomach
Is this something I want to do?
Is it something crazy?
I hear the people all around
Some screaming, some laughing
The laughter tells me it's not so bad
As we go up, the creaking begins
I look out and see all around me
I jolt in to place.
I feel the sweat beading on my forehead
Here goes nothing, Whoosh!
I'm weightless for a moment and I feel the wind rushing in to my face
The feeling is exhilirating!
When I reach the bottom and put my feet to the ground I run to the next ride that is awaiting.
Oofta..
Here goes nothing.
ReplyDeleteWhen I get off the school bus
I race my sister to the door.
I'm as fast as the wind of gust
But as I run I realize my muscles are sore.
As I feel the coldness of the doorknob
I entered the house with my backpack & threw it on the floor.
What's this smell?
It's mom's homemade apple crisp!
As I take a bite, warmness fills my body.
As I talk with my mouth full with a lisp
I tell my mom how I am such a fatty.
(lol)...
I see the leaves changing color
What a great season for apple crisp
unlike the summer.
I can hear the white sea gulls above,
ReplyDeleteSquawking as they fly over my head.
My feet are buried in the warm sand,
About to get wet from the rising tide.
There is a calm breeze blowing at me,
Wafting smells of the ocean my way.
Just sitting here watching the waves,
Crashing against each other yet again.
No wonder why some people wished,
Growing fins and gills similar to a fish.
You would not have to walk around,
Only swim around in the big ol’ blue.