Note taking poem
Went to wherever I decided to stop at,
Be back until it closes.
I was in need of a break
From the sound of the
Jungle
I believe there’s some leftovers from last nights
Dinner
If its not to your like, order some pizza
But right now I just need to be
Alone,
You’ve stressed me out, work is becoming overwhelming and
I think I’m going to get
Fired
The kids are at my mum’s
Your sister called,
Mentioning something about tomorrow
Hope all is well with you.
Talk to you whenever I arrive
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
melanie
Rules poem
Raise your hand up high,
Be in complete uniform,
On time,
Sit in my class now,
Follow my instructions,
My rules aren’t difficult
They’re probably nicer than when your
Pals were in school
Just
Don’t talk back
Complete your work
Don’t leave your newspapers behind
And be on time
That’s all I ask
All I expect you to do
Is
LEARN
Just follow my rules and we will like
Each other for a
VERY long
Time
I promise.
Holding on and letting go Poem
This furry friend
Has been around for a
Long time,
Sure it has
Its travelled, flew, ran, jumped. Read
All with me.
As its body parts
Start coming apart
I feel bad, I love it
So very much but I have
To give it up for the rest of my
Life.
I’ve hold on to it for a very
LONG TIME, now I got to stay
Good-bye for a VERY
LONG TIME.
Raise your hand up high,
Be in complete uniform,
On time,
Sit in my class now,
Follow my instructions,
My rules aren’t difficult
They’re probably nicer than when your
Pals were in school
Just
Don’t talk back
Complete your work
Don’t leave your newspapers behind
And be on time
That’s all I ask
All I expect you to do
Is
LEARN
Just follow my rules and we will like
Each other for a
VERY long
Time
I promise.
Holding on and letting go Poem
This furry friend
Has been around for a
Long time,
Sure it has
Its travelled, flew, ran, jumped. Read
All with me.
As its body parts
Start coming apart
I feel bad, I love it
So very much but I have
To give it up for the rest of my
Life.
I’ve hold on to it for a very
LONG TIME, now I got to stay
Good-bye for a VERY
LONG TIME.
melanie
List poem
The empty room
Metal seats, dirty tables, cement floor,
Tasty lunch, noisy crowd, colourful decorations,
Same clothes, hyper students, talkative teachers,
Empty stomachs, clocks ticking, people storming,
Doors pushed hard open. Class has begun.
The empty room
Metal seats, dirty tables, cement floor,
Tasty lunch, noisy crowd, colourful decorations,
Same clothes, hyper students, talkative teachers,
Empty stomachs, clocks ticking, people storming,
Doors pushed hard open. Class has begun.
melanie silva
In my pocket poem
A little box where my emotions sit
Saved from everything
Else
my music
My ipod
Simple papers
Metals.
Big meaning
The cause of wick ness
Cruelty
My money
Small papers
Transportation
My tickets
Identity
Unlost
A citizen
My cards
Newspaper Poem
What I owe is important to me,
But tragedy
Steals it away
It was 9am
When mud seeped in the basement
An ocean of water
Where my children used to play
Strangers walk in everyday
After that
Taking away my possessions
As I cry with my family
With nothing
Left
But worries and frustrations
Now we sit in an
Offered house
Worrying
About
Loss
A little box where my emotions sit
Saved from everything
Else
my music
My ipod
Simple papers
Metals.
Big meaning
The cause of wick ness
Cruelty
My money
Small papers
Transportation
My tickets
Identity
Unlost
A citizen
My cards
Newspaper Poem
What I owe is important to me,
But tragedy
Steals it away
It was 9am
When mud seeped in the basement
An ocean of water
Where my children used to play
Strangers walk in everyday
After that
Taking away my possessions
As I cry with my family
With nothing
Left
But worries and frustrations
Now we sit in an
Offered house
Worrying
About
Loss
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
tania
In My Pocket
Normally my hands would be full
Full of objects with stories
Not today
Today is a clean slate
No used tissue
No old transfer
No change from a pack of gum
It’s a first
On a regular day not a finger would fit
Today even my wrist is taking a peek
Take advantage I say
For tomorrow
The transfer will be smuggled
The change will be jingling
And the number will be new.
Normally my hands would be full
Full of objects with stories
Not today
Today is a clean slate
No used tissue
No old transfer
No change from a pack of gum
It’s a first
On a regular day not a finger would fit
Today even my wrist is taking a peek
Take advantage I say
For tomorrow
The transfer will be smuggled
The change will be jingling
And the number will be new.
tania
What If
What if I cared too much?
And what if too much is not enough?
What if we never met?
And what if we still found each other?
What if I cared too much?
And what if too much is not enough?
What if we never met?
And what if we still found each other?
tania
Holding On
I’ve held your face so many times
The paper no longer bares your image
I see you in my sight
But when I approach you, phantom
This way you never looked
And now the path has closed
The road has taken a different direction
But yet this old map
It’s stronger than me
How can I let go,
When I’m not even holding on?
I’ve held your face so many times
The paper no longer bares your image
I see you in my sight
But when I approach you, phantom
This way you never looked
And now the path has closed
The road has taken a different direction
But yet this old map
It’s stronger than me
How can I let go,
When I’m not even holding on?
tania
WANNABE
Like him you wanted to be
Tall
TONED
But no one told you
You can’t make something
Out of
NOTHING
You were
FORGETABLE.
Ironic how before me
You were so
CONFIDENT
And now you crumble at my sight.
Like him you wanted to be
Tall
TONED
But no one told you
You can’t make something
Out of
NOTHING
You were
FORGETABLE.
Ironic how before me
You were so
CONFIDENT
And now you crumble at my sight.
tania
This Is Just to Say
(With Apologies to W.C.W.)
I have borrowed
your shoes
that were
in your closet,
and which
you were probably
waiting
on an occasion to wear them
Forgive me,
they were so pretty
and I just had to
try them out.
(With Apologies to W.C.W.)
I have borrowed
your shoes
that were
in your closet,
and which
you were probably
waiting
on an occasion to wear them
Forgive me,
they were so pretty
and I just had to
try them out.
Tania Da Silva
My name is Tania da Silva. I am currently in gr 12 and am going to Humber next year for Social Work. To me writing is an escape from the real world. It allows me to become someone else and lets me express how I am feeling at a particular time. I began writing at 15. I am an emotional person but I don't show my emotions in public and that is what contributed to my writing poetry. I had been through traumatic experiences that left me grieving on the inside. I don't remember when it was exactly but I remember it being summer. I just felt like writing. I picked up a pen and began writing. Ever since then I have been writing. My favorite type of writing is poetry because there is no specific guideline. I can write as much or as little as I want, punctuate when I choose and end if I feel like it. Writing will continue to be a part of my life because it's the way in which I cope with my issues. Crying and talking about it to me has no use so when I write poetry it feels like a weight has been lighten off of me.
rebecca
If I Came With Product Warnings
By: Rebecca LaFortune
I wonder what it’d be life
if I came with product warnings.
Caution:
Sarcasm is abundant.
Do not ingest.
That is cannibalism, you sicko.
Do not set aflame.
Will most likely kill her.
Keep away from stupid people.
The mockery will never stop.
If not fed,
Don’t be surprised if you lose a limb.
Yeah,
I should probably come with instructions, too.
By: Rebecca LaFortune
I wonder what it’d be life
if I came with product warnings.
Caution:
Sarcasm is abundant.
Do not ingest.
That is cannibalism, you sicko.
Do not set aflame.
Will most likely kill her.
Keep away from stupid people.
The mockery will never stop.
If not fed,
Don’t be surprised if you lose a limb.
Yeah,
I should probably come with instructions, too.
rebecca
O Generation
By: Rebecca LaFortune
O Generation of the thoroughly smug,
What have we done?
We have messed up
bigger
and better
than any other generation before us.
And what have our antics achieved?
The end of a war?
The birth of rock and roll music?
No, love.
We’ve achieved none of that.
With our self-righteous attitudes in one hand
and our ridiculous fads in the other
we enter the world
as thought it owes us.
Maybe we should send in
our resignation paper early;
tell the generations before us that they have to hang on for a bit
just until the next generation is ready.
That way.
we don’t screw everything else up.
By: Rebecca LaFortune
O Generation of the thoroughly smug,
What have we done?
We have messed up
bigger
and better
than any other generation before us.
And what have our antics achieved?
The end of a war?
The birth of rock and roll music?
No, love.
We’ve achieved none of that.
With our self-righteous attitudes in one hand
and our ridiculous fads in the other
we enter the world
as thought it owes us.
Maybe we should send in
our resignation paper early;
tell the generations before us that they have to hang on for a bit
just until the next generation is ready.
That way.
we don’t screw everything else up.
rebecca
Conversation
By: Rebecca LaFortune
I am so damn bored.
Waiting for the bus right now.
Can you please save me?
Ha, that kind of sucks.
Maybe you should do something.
Write some more haikus.
There are some people.
They are sitting behind me.
I am eavesdropping.
I hope they are old.
Kick them straight in the walker.
They smell like moth balls.
Gosh darn you, woman!
You made me laugh on the bus!
Well now you must pay!
Ha ha I so rule.
Now I made you embarrassed.
Humiliation.
Well now I must leave.
Thank you so much for helping.
My bus ride is done.
By: Rebecca LaFortune
I am so damn bored.
Waiting for the bus right now.
Can you please save me?
Ha, that kind of sucks.
Maybe you should do something.
Write some more haikus.
There are some people.
They are sitting behind me.
I am eavesdropping.
I hope they are old.
Kick them straight in the walker.
They smell like moth balls.
Gosh darn you, woman!
You made me laugh on the bus!
Well now you must pay!
Ha ha I so rule.
Now I made you embarrassed.
Humiliation.
Well now I must leave.
Thank you so much for helping.
My bus ride is done.
rebecca
By: Rebecca LaFortune
What if
I don’t get into University?
What if
there’s some crazy glitch at the University headquarters,
and I’m put on some blacklist
to never be accepted anywhere
at any time
for the rest of my life?!
What if,
because of this blacklist,
my parents kick me out
and I’m forced to life on the harsh Toronto streets?!
What if
I never have a normal life
with a husband
a career
a family
a house?
What if
I’m just not meant for normal?
What if
I don’t get into University?
What if
there’s some crazy glitch at the University headquarters,
and I’m put on some blacklist
to never be accepted anywhere
at any time
for the rest of my life?!
What if,
because of this blacklist,
my parents kick me out
and I’m forced to life on the harsh Toronto streets?!
What if
I never have a normal life
with a husband
a career
a family
a house?
What if
I’m just not meant for normal?
rebecca
Feel
By: Rebecca LaFortune
I feel
longing
lust
bliss
betrayal
anxiety
alienation
rage
relief
eagerness
elation
déjà vu.
By: Rebecca LaFortune
I feel
longing
lust
bliss
betrayal
anxiety
alienation
rage
relief
eagerness
elation
déjà vu.
rebecca
In My Pocket
By: Rebecca LaFortune
Five.
I have five dollars
five student bus tickets
five pennies
five sticks of Stride gum
five sets of Dayquil tablets
I am not five.
I am one.
By: Rebecca LaFortune
Five.
I have five dollars
five student bus tickets
five pennies
five sticks of Stride gum
five sets of Dayquil tablets
I am not five.
I am one.
Rebecca LaFortune
TOP TEN RENTALS
By: Rebecca LaFortune
Jennifer’s Body
was the Perfect Getaway
from The Hangover.
The Inglorious Basterds
witnessed Paranormal Activity
from the 9 Public Enemies.
Beyond a Reasonable Doubt,
District 9’s gossip
was All About Steve.
By: Rebecca LaFortune
Jennifer’s Body
was the Perfect Getaway
from The Hangover.
The Inglorious Basterds
witnessed Paranormal Activity
from the 9 Public Enemies.
Beyond a Reasonable Doubt,
District 9’s gossip
was All About Steve.
paul
A Grasp
That rock that seemed so near
Has fallen so far
Thrusting away
I held it high
Once,
Now I cry and cry
Buried visions
Left for dead
Lost underneath a city
I see the waves
Sparkling
The hills paved with
Amity, seem so cruel
Walls so high beyond the alley
Closing on me
I see
Darkness
And the fields
Seem so surreal
In my dreams
I smudged my face
With earth and soil
For that land
But still the rock
Underneath lies
That rock that seemed so near
Has fallen so far
Thrusting away
I held it high
Once,
Now I cry and cry
Buried visions
Left for dead
Lost underneath a city
I see the waves
Sparkling
The hills paved with
Amity, seem so cruel
Walls so high beyond the alley
Closing on me
I see
Darkness
And the fields
Seem so surreal
In my dreams
I smudged my face
With earth and soil
For that land
But still the rock
Underneath lies
paul
The Note Read Clear
I waited for you but you never showed
When you receive this message
Call me back
Please
I called again yesterday but you didn’t pick up
Left a message
I guess you didn’t receive
Oh man you missed the best
Day ever
We hit the clubs all night
Girls were wild
Anyways
Talk to you later
Hi
Where are you man?
Long time no see
Hey, it’s me again
What’s going on?
Haven’t heard from you
It’s been a while…
I waited for you but you never showed
When you receive this message
Call me back
Please
I called again yesterday but you didn’t pick up
Left a message
I guess you didn’t receive
Oh man you missed the best
Day ever
We hit the clubs all night
Girls were wild
Anyways
Talk to you later
Hi
Where are you man?
Long time no see
Hey, it’s me again
What’s going on?
Haven’t heard from you
It’s been a while…
paul
Where We Bathed in the Morning Heat
Where we bathed in the morning heat
Where we lay naked of sin
Naked of reason
Clashed our heads
Clothed was the sinner
Eyes so clear
Watery
Why this man is crying?
Such green such glee
Maybe joyous
Even of these emotions
So strange
Sparkling water shines
The radiant sun above all
So dearly glances
Faces shapeless
If the Sinners did not know
Crawling the lands at
Dawn
Their hair so lustrous
Full of sin
Creeping the statues
White and pure
And casting shadows
Of deliverance
The summoning of the Queen
If the sun condemned his nature
Brilliance endures
The fall and the rise
Tangled
Broken
Not if the sparks
Flakes form heaven
Strike
Once it fell and never rose
And the darkness stared thy foe
But men who danced to the morning song
With feet so bare and lean
If the venom from above did fall
Shrouding the innocence
Aimless prayers on a platter
Served as remains to the highly queen
Bathed in the morning heat
Sight of cruelness and anguish
A captive
A prisoner of man
Where we bathed in the morning heat
Where we lay naked of sin
Naked of reason
Clashed our heads
Clothed was the sinner
Eyes so clear
Watery
Why this man is crying?
Such green such glee
Maybe joyous
Even of these emotions
So strange
Sparkling water shines
The radiant sun above all
So dearly glances
Faces shapeless
If the Sinners did not know
Crawling the lands at
Dawn
Their hair so lustrous
Full of sin
Creeping the statues
White and pure
And casting shadows
Of deliverance
The summoning of the Queen
If the sun condemned his nature
Brilliance endures
The fall and the rise
Tangled
Broken
Not if the sparks
Flakes form heaven
Strike
Once it fell and never rose
And the darkness stared thy foe
But men who danced to the morning song
With feet so bare and lean
If the venom from above did fall
Shrouding the innocence
Aimless prayers on a platter
Served as remains to the highly queen
Bathed in the morning heat
Sight of cruelness and anguish
A captive
A prisoner of man
paul
Baggage
I packed a bag
Once I stuffed in it
Precious objects
So dear to me
I could not let go
I felt complete
Knowing
That my iPod
On my left pocket
Lay
And above
On the plane drawer
My favorite shirt
Neatly folded
so
Nothing to fear
because
My watch on my wrist
Cell in my jacket
Laptop in my case
By where is my wallet?
I packed a bag
Once I stuffed in it
Precious objects
So dear to me
I could not let go
I felt complete
Knowing
That my iPod
On my left pocket
Lay
And above
On the plane drawer
My favorite shirt
Neatly folded
so
Nothing to fear
because
My watch on my wrist
Cell in my jacket
Laptop in my case
By where is my wallet?
paul
“I had a dream which was not all a dream” Darkness by Lord Byron
Dreamed
A breeze rattled down my spine
Into my mouth and bothered my thoughts
I fell in comfort and dreamed
Of women, but fear misled me into
Terrifying sights anguish
Chasing
A whole lot of chasing
Form who?
I seem terrified
Want to run escape this madness
But not yet
My body stiffens
My legs like blocks of cement
My hands as well
Dysfunctional
Abruptly I float
Tilting from left to right
In motion
Shapes of familiarity
Vague sights of childhood memories
I cry tears burns my skin
I fly in
In need of air
Suffocating
Irrational shit but no time for reason
Shapeless shadows haunt me
Evil seeks me
It’s dark very dark
No shed of light
Such empty space
Inhabited by fear and cruelness
Frightened yet invincible I shine
Like a luminous sword
That wears the color of red
The colour of pride
The colour of victory
This is my world.
Witnesses
The plant in the winter cold:
No sun to nourish
Leafs drying
Its shape deforming
Crawling into nothingness
The dog tired its head resting on his hands:
Disabled from the rain
Comforted by rest
Eyes monitoring the scene
Its ears alert
A whimper
An old man wandering lonely:
No place to go
No worries in hand
Warm under that thick scarf
Bones hurting upon every move
As he nears the end
Wishes he were younger
Water swarms the rocks in madness:
Lively and full of anger
Has been for some time now
Trapped in a ditch
In vain it curses the gods
And lays low staring at the reddened skies
Screams of insanity echo through the never-ending narrow hall:
So loud so high they seem to never fade
They haunt those who seek
But the hall is so deep and abstruse that they vanish in the darkness
No one seems to notice
Nothing to welcome this presence
It turns to dust
Light breaks though the shattered window:
It intrudes without warning
Only to discover the bloodshed
The stains deep into fabric
The stench, here in the mourned land
Relics in despair
The wounded tiger rests on the smooth wet grass:
Revenge circulating his mind he softly blinks twice
A breeze circulates
Shuffling though his fury skin
it soothes him
Dreamed
A breeze rattled down my spine
Into my mouth and bothered my thoughts
I fell in comfort and dreamed
Of women, but fear misled me into
Terrifying sights anguish
Chasing
A whole lot of chasing
Form who?
I seem terrified
Want to run escape this madness
But not yet
My body stiffens
My legs like blocks of cement
My hands as well
Dysfunctional
Abruptly I float
Tilting from left to right
In motion
Shapes of familiarity
Vague sights of childhood memories
I cry tears burns my skin
I fly in
In need of air
Suffocating
Irrational shit but no time for reason
Shapeless shadows haunt me
Evil seeks me
It’s dark very dark
No shed of light
Such empty space
Inhabited by fear and cruelness
Frightened yet invincible I shine
Like a luminous sword
That wears the color of red
The colour of pride
The colour of victory
This is my world.
Witnesses
The plant in the winter cold:
No sun to nourish
Leafs drying
Its shape deforming
Crawling into nothingness
The dog tired its head resting on his hands:
Disabled from the rain
Comforted by rest
Eyes monitoring the scene
Its ears alert
A whimper
An old man wandering lonely:
No place to go
No worries in hand
Warm under that thick scarf
Bones hurting upon every move
As he nears the end
Wishes he were younger
Water swarms the rocks in madness:
Lively and full of anger
Has been for some time now
Trapped in a ditch
In vain it curses the gods
And lays low staring at the reddened skies
Screams of insanity echo through the never-ending narrow hall:
So loud so high they seem to never fade
They haunt those who seek
But the hall is so deep and abstruse that they vanish in the darkness
No one seems to notice
Nothing to welcome this presence
It turns to dust
Light breaks though the shattered window:
It intrudes without warning
Only to discover the bloodshed
The stains deep into fabric
The stench, here in the mourned land
Relics in despair
The wounded tiger rests on the smooth wet grass:
Revenge circulating his mind he softly blinks twice
A breeze circulates
Shuffling though his fury skin
it soothes him
paul
The Rules of a Game
Part 1
I walk and stop and walk again
Wait my turn
Patiently,
Stand in line
Sit when asked
And stand when needed.
Part 2
Once the fate of man was determined not
Yet the creatures roamed the lands
Senseless
Logic absent deep into the ditch
Did not know that it was falling
So one fell
So far down
Confused was he
The mysteries of time did drown him now
A civilized man
Covered in cloth
Walks so slowly and proudly
Vicious animals
With Survival instincts
Naked and bare
And pure
A vicious man
Ill fated
Glances back and fourth
Its eyes
When there were no rules
We wore no clothes
When there were no rules
The dead were left for good
Part 1
I walk and stop and walk again
Wait my turn
Patiently,
Stand in line
Sit when asked
And stand when needed.
Part 2
Once the fate of man was determined not
Yet the creatures roamed the lands
Senseless
Logic absent deep into the ditch
Did not know that it was falling
So one fell
So far down
Confused was he
The mysteries of time did drown him now
A civilized man
Covered in cloth
Walks so slowly and proudly
Vicious animals
With Survival instincts
Naked and bare
And pure
A vicious man
Ill fated
Glances back and fourth
Its eyes
When there were no rules
We wore no clothes
When there were no rules
The dead were left for good
Paul Hila
Author: Paul Hila
I find joy in writing poetry and since no rules pertain to it I can express my feelings and emotions in depth and without boundary. Through poetry I can relieve myself of angst and any worries and just open the doors of my world through literature.
“A man of action forced into a state of thought is unhappy until he can get out of it.” Franz Kafka
“Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.” Edgar Allan Poe
Contents
I find joy in writing poetry and since no rules pertain to it I can express my feelings and emotions in depth and without boundary. Through poetry I can relieve myself of angst and any worries and just open the doors of my world through literature.
“A man of action forced into a state of thought is unhappy until he can get out of it.” Franz Kafka
“Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.” Edgar Allan Poe
Contents
tiago
What if Poem
What If the world was connected by a bridge?
Would poverty be over?
People could walk over to another country,
never be hungry,
ridden by war,
What if those bridges were fought as territory?
Would the whole world be at chaos again?
Running refugees ramble,
World at war,
Once again
What if the world was connected by a bridge?
Good, the bad
Put them together
and you have,
current state.
What If the world was connected by a bridge?
Would poverty be over?
People could walk over to another country,
never be hungry,
ridden by war,
What if those bridges were fought as territory?
Would the whole world be at chaos again?
Running refugees ramble,
World at war,
Once again
What if the world was connected by a bridge?
Good, the bad
Put them together
and you have,
current state.
tiago
In my pocket poem
We little ones stay here,
shadowed by our counterpart.
We are ridiculed for our nonsense,
They laugh at out uselessness
dark and rusty.
We are thrown around in shame,
they are kept in great condition,
us women will be useful one day,
tough and strong.
You men will be fake and exchanged,
Torn and destroyed
We little ones stay here,
shadowed by our counterpart.
We are ridiculed for our nonsense,
They laugh at out uselessness
dark and rusty.
We are thrown around in shame,
they are kept in great condition,
us women will be useful one day,
tough and strong.
You men will be fake and exchanged,
Torn and destroyed
tiago
Holding On, Letting Go
My dreams,
drawing,
pencils scratch parchment,
lines,
fill,
shade,
my masterpiece,
unveiled.
My dreams,
drawing,
pencils scratch parchment,
lines,
fill,
shade,
my masterpiece,
unveiled.
tiago
Haiku Poem
Run into the forest,
starry blue echoing light,
I lay down and breathe.
I can barely look
but every time I do see,
I want to run.
Through going, coming,
quickly I’m learning to love,
to know I will be fine.
Tastes of blue cheese fill
my mouth with crunchy walnuts,
fresh strawberries drizzle
Line Inspiration Poem
I wandered lonely as a cloud,
my mind in complete disarray
looking into the sky
I see blank pictures,
blue particles, the colour of water
hit my transparent facade,
others laugh at me,
my mind trembles with every step,
As I continue down my path.
Run into the forest,
starry blue echoing light,
I lay down and breathe.
I can barely look
but every time I do see,
I want to run.
Through going, coming,
quickly I’m learning to love,
to know I will be fine.
Tastes of blue cheese fill
my mouth with crunchy walnuts,
fresh strawberries drizzle
Line Inspiration Poem
I wandered lonely as a cloud,
my mind in complete disarray
looking into the sky
I see blank pictures,
blue particles, the colour of water
hit my transparent facade,
others laugh at me,
my mind trembles with every step,
As I continue down my path.
Tiago De Oliveira
Writer’s Craft – Poetry Unit
I really enjoyed this writer’s craft class, which I took this semester. I learned many new things about writing, poetry, and the different types of prose there are. I had thought I was an okay writer, however as we progressed on towards the course, I realized that my writing was horrible compared to what some of the greatest writers had written. I learned how to write a proper story with dialogue, which is crucial since I began an attempt to write a book. A benefit from this class was that I am able to take different parts of different stories and make a major story. I also learned how to write a proper poem and not look for “inspiration” on the internet; a problem I had before. There was no huge disadvantage to this course, except for the excessive assignment work we had to do; procrastination also played a role. I also disliked the extremelt difficult tests that were given; they were more like exams. Too much content to remember, plus a brutal site passage. I wished that this course was longer, because I could have learned a lot more. I liked the class environment, as well as some of the assignments that we received throughout the semester (ie. Little Red Riding Hood). Poetry was also fun, I found out that you do not need to rhyme to get a good poem, all it takes is an idea and some thoughts. I have learned a lot and will be carrying this newly found knowledge into the future, and perhaps my future career. It should be continued course as a vital course to help a student with their writing. It helps them with writing skill, spelling, and how to use music or other poems with their own personal poetry.
I really enjoyed this writer’s craft class, which I took this semester. I learned many new things about writing, poetry, and the different types of prose there are. I had thought I was an okay writer, however as we progressed on towards the course, I realized that my writing was horrible compared to what some of the greatest writers had written. I learned how to write a proper story with dialogue, which is crucial since I began an attempt to write a book. A benefit from this class was that I am able to take different parts of different stories and make a major story. I also learned how to write a proper poem and not look for “inspiration” on the internet; a problem I had before. There was no huge disadvantage to this course, except for the excessive assignment work we had to do; procrastination also played a role. I also disliked the extremelt difficult tests that were given; they were more like exams. Too much content to remember, plus a brutal site passage. I wished that this course was longer, because I could have learned a lot more. I liked the class environment, as well as some of the assignments that we received throughout the semester (ie. Little Red Riding Hood). Poetry was also fun, I found out that you do not need to rhyme to get a good poem, all it takes is an idea and some thoughts. I have learned a lot and will be carrying this newly found knowledge into the future, and perhaps my future career. It should be continued course as a vital course to help a student with their writing. It helps them with writing skill, spelling, and how to use music or other poems with their own personal poetry.
Monday, February 1, 2010
erica
“Baggage” Poem
I carry my baggage with me,
heavy
as It drowns me,
Deeper-down-deeper
to the place I try to forget.
I’m tired
And I can no longer
Wonder-Aimlessly-Wonder
With this burden
On my shoulders.
But what’s inside?
My thoughts,
My dreams,
My aspirations?
My thoughts,
they over power
my dreams.
My aspirations,
that white light
greets me with open arms.
I can see it,
As it calls my name
but I can no longer
reach it.
I will empty my baggage,
No longer drowning,
Reaching-higher-reaching
Until I am no longer immersed
In negative
Thoughts
Dreams
And aspirations.
This weight will gently
Be lifted,
Off my shoulders and
I will breathe…
I carry my baggage with me,
heavy
as It drowns me,
Deeper-down-deeper
to the place I try to forget.
I’m tired
And I can no longer
Wonder-Aimlessly-Wonder
With this burden
On my shoulders.
But what’s inside?
My thoughts,
My dreams,
My aspirations?
My thoughts,
they over power
my dreams.
My aspirations,
that white light
greets me with open arms.
I can see it,
As it calls my name
but I can no longer
reach it.
I will empty my baggage,
No longer drowning,
Reaching-higher-reaching
Until I am no longer immersed
In negative
Thoughts
Dreams
And aspirations.
This weight will gently
Be lifted,
Off my shoulders and
I will breathe…
erica
What if We Were Like a Poem
“What if/if” Poem:
What if we cared about
poverty,
abuse,
discrimination,
And global warming.
What if we eliminated
Hunger,
Depression,
Wounds,
And devastation.
What if we could
love,
leaving no room for
Hate.
If everyone were free,
and there were no limitations.
What if there were no
“What ifs.”
And instead of failing,
We would all succeed.
What If we could
share our emotions,
containing them all
on one sheet of paper.
What if we were like a poem,
Able to erase the unwanted
and never look back.
Able to start from scratch
and decide our own fate.
What if we were like a poem?
“What if/if” Poem:
What if we cared about
poverty,
abuse,
discrimination,
And global warming.
What if we eliminated
Hunger,
Depression,
Wounds,
And devastation.
What if we could
love,
leaving no room for
Hate.
If everyone were free,
and there were no limitations.
What if there were no
“What ifs.”
And instead of failing,
We would all succeed.
What If we could
share our emotions,
containing them all
on one sheet of paper.
What if we were like a poem,
Able to erase the unwanted
and never look back.
Able to start from scratch
and decide our own fate.
What if we were like a poem?
erica
Writing a Poem
“List” Poem
Writing a poem can sometimes be
Frustrating,
Liberating,
Challenging,
Effortless,
Undesirable,
Exciting,
Straining,
Or
Indulgent.
It can be
a Pleasure,
a Pain,
a hobby,
a chore,
a fulfillment,
a burden,
an advancement,
or
a restraint.
But in the end,
a poem expresses
Emotion
Ambition
And the feelings
from within.
“List” Poem
Writing a poem can sometimes be
Frustrating,
Liberating,
Challenging,
Effortless,
Undesirable,
Exciting,
Straining,
Or
Indulgent.
It can be
a Pleasure,
a Pain,
a hobby,
a chore,
a fulfillment,
a burden,
an advancement,
or
a restraint.
But in the end,
a poem expresses
Emotion
Ambition
And the feelings
from within.
erica
Don’t Cry Mommy
“Newspaper” Poem
7-Year old Korostin
has made daily visits
to her father’s grave.
telling him she loves him,
and not to worry about his family.
“I hope you’re alive there
(In Heaven)
that you’ll never die.
That you’ll never be sick,
that it’ll be a good place for you.”
It was the worst one-day
construction accident
in the past 50 years.
Irina Cherniakova says
It was horrible to tell her two children
they had lost their father
and unimaginable to tell them
they had lost their home.
“Don’t cry mommy,
everything will be okay.”
“Newspaper” Poem
7-Year old Korostin
has made daily visits
to her father’s grave.
telling him she loves him,
and not to worry about his family.
“I hope you’re alive there
(In Heaven)
that you’ll never die.
That you’ll never be sick,
that it’ll be a good place for you.”
It was the worst one-day
construction accident
in the past 50 years.
Irina Cherniakova says
It was horrible to tell her two children
they had lost their father
and unimaginable to tell them
they had lost their home.
“Don’t cry mommy,
everything will be okay.”
erica
In my Pocket”
“To whom it my concern…”
My wallet contains
A 20-dollar bill,
quarters, nickels
and
a silver dime.
My pocket contains
a bus ticket,
paper in texture,
and
a toonie in value.
My bag contains
A common excuse note,
“Please excuse Erika
for the test she had missed”
My mind contains
Memories,
Jokes,
And laughter.
Love,
Angst,
And the tears that come after.
“To whom it my concern…”
My wallet contains
A 20-dollar bill,
quarters, nickels
and
a silver dime.
My pocket contains
a bus ticket,
paper in texture,
and
a toonie in value.
My bag contains
A common excuse note,
“Please excuse Erika
for the test she had missed”
My mind contains
Memories,
Jokes,
And laughter.
Love,
Angst,
And the tears that come after.
Erica Graham
As I come to the end of Ms. DeFrancesca’s third period writer’s class and as I put together the finishing touches of my final project, I begin to reflect on all that I have written in the short 5 months that I have been here. I came into this class not knowing what to expect. I knew that I loved writing but I asked myself many questions, like, what kind of marks would I be able to achieve? Would I be any good at creative writing? I had not had any memories of creative writing since elementary school, and I had forgotten all the rules, all the regulations.
In the end, when I reflect back on all that we have learned and all the final projects we have produced, I feel a sense of accomplishment. I am proud of the work that I have completed in this class and I am excited to apply what I have learned to my every-day writing adventures. After all the free writing exercises, I no longer hesitate before I write. I am now able to write at a faster pace, without worrying (too much) if my writing is “correct”, or if people will “like” what I have written. I have learned to write for me, even if nobody sees it. In the end, I have learned that the sense of accomplishment I feel after I finish a piece of writing is the greatest feeling of all. I also enjoyed listening to others come and speak to our class about their own personal adventures in the world of writing. It was encouraging to hear others who had a passion for writing follow what they loved doing, even if it is difficult to climb the ladder and be successful at it.
Overall, I have taken away a new sense of love for writing, one that I may not have discovered if I had not been a part of this Writer’s Craft class. Even after this class is finished, I will continue to write regularly and I am excited apply the techniques I have learned in this class to each writing project I complete.
In the end, when I reflect back on all that we have learned and all the final projects we have produced, I feel a sense of accomplishment. I am proud of the work that I have completed in this class and I am excited to apply what I have learned to my every-day writing adventures. After all the free writing exercises, I no longer hesitate before I write. I am now able to write at a faster pace, without worrying (too much) if my writing is “correct”, or if people will “like” what I have written. I have learned to write for me, even if nobody sees it. In the end, I have learned that the sense of accomplishment I feel after I finish a piece of writing is the greatest feeling of all. I also enjoyed listening to others come and speak to our class about their own personal adventures in the world of writing. It was encouraging to hear others who had a passion for writing follow what they loved doing, even if it is difficult to climb the ladder and be successful at it.
Overall, I have taken away a new sense of love for writing, one that I may not have discovered if I had not been a part of this Writer’s Craft class. Even after this class is finished, I will continue to write regularly and I am excited apply the techniques I have learned in this class to each writing project I complete.
tyler
Baggage
Throughout my life, I carry things with me.
These things are kept in bags and these bags eventually get full.
All my possessions I must carry.
Can I carry everything?
Am I strong enough?
Should I leave anything behind?
Letting go isn’t easy.
But sometimes it must be done
I’m a strong man but not strong enough
Throughout my life, I carry things with me.
These things are kept in bags and these bags eventually get full.
All my possessions I must carry.
Can I carry everything?
Am I strong enough?
Should I leave anything behind?
Letting go isn’t easy.
But sometimes it must be done
I’m a strong man but not strong enough
tyler
In My Pocket
ENDLESS
Necessities and entertainment
Lip balm, keeping my lips moist
IPod and cell phone?
Phone; connects me with the world
Music to my ears
Keys to my house
my sanctuary
Metro pass
Transit
Transportation
NECESSITIES
That’s all there is.
But is that all I need?
ENDLESS
Necessities and entertainment
Lip balm, keeping my lips moist
IPod and cell phone?
Phone; connects me with the world
Music to my ears
Keys to my house
my sanctuary
Metro pass
Transit
Transportation
NECESSITIES
That’s all there is.
But is that all I need?
tyler
Haiku
Time starts to pass
Before u know that It’s over
Live life to the fullest
I work hard all night
My project is due tomorrow
Procrastinate again
I will forgive you
After all is said and done
You are the only one
You walked with me
When I was all alone
With no one left to hold
Time starts to pass
Before u know that It’s over
Live life to the fullest
I work hard all night
My project is due tomorrow
Procrastinate again
I will forgive you
After all is said and done
You are the only one
You walked with me
When I was all alone
With no one left to hold
tyler
What if poem
What if summer never ended?
I might actually get a job.
What if chips were healthy?
I could earn a gold medal for wellbeing.
What if distressing made you more intelligent?
I would be a scientist.
What if poems were dreams that may someday come true?
What if summer never ended?
I might actually get a job.
What if chips were healthy?
I could earn a gold medal for wellbeing.
What if distressing made you more intelligent?
I would be a scientist.
What if poems were dreams that may someday come true?
Tyler Galea
My name is Tyler Galea and poetry was never something I liked. The way writing is to me, is a way of expressing your true feeling. I see creative writing as being no right or wrong way because it comes from the heart. When writing poems you usually need to be somewhat inspired by something but with Ms. De Francesca as my teacher, I have learned some new techniques in writing poetry and ways to write poetry without any inspiration at all. I believe this class is about exploring our own personal creativity and how important editing really is. In the beginning I never really planned on taking this course but some of my friends recommended it so I thought I would give it a try. Now that I have actually taken the course I am no longer discouraged with my writing and can now write confidently. By reading someone’s poetry you can almost get a quick glance of how that person really is and how their personality relates to their poems. When you read my poems I believe they can help you get a brief outlook on my life and and a quick insight on my personality. From everything I have learned in this course I plan on using it my whole life and through my career.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Welcome to Dante's Ink!
Hello all!
Welcome to Dante's blog poetry anthology!!!! The poetry you see here is poetry written by the EWC 4U1 course. Please enjoy!!!
Welcome to Dante's blog poetry anthology!!!! The poetry you see here is poetry written by the EWC 4U1 course. Please enjoy!!!
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