I left my
of wonder and
awe. A place that
knows me better
than any other place
I’ve been. This place
has changed me and
molded me into the
person I am now.
The forests, trees, creeks,
and open skies instilled in
me a love for God’s works.
The harshness of the winters has
taught me to be patient and to endure. My small
town is where I learned the small-town work ethic;
you don’t get what you don’t earn and earning what
you want takes a little bit of sweat and tears. Here
I learned that you don’t have to be blood to be
family. Brothers and sisters are made throughout
years of school together. We relied on each other to
be happy. This place will forever hold my heart and
soul. I am a small town girl through and through.
It’s who I will always be. Forever. Thanks IDAHO
for shaping me into something more than I was.
Like sick allergies,
Boredom can be passed around
I call it: THE BOREDOM DISEASE
Like a horrid storm,
Boredom can catch you off guard
Hold on for DEAR LIFE!
Like the whooping cough,
Boredom can be serious
If I were you, I’d
Get a vaccination !
OUR BABY GIRL TURNS 21
ON 1ST JULY 1990~ THE ANGELS DID SOMETHING ALMIGHTY
FROM HEAVEN THEY SENT US OUR LIFE-LONG DESIRE-A PRECIOUS DAUGHTER TO LOVE AND ADMIRE.
TRUE TO YOUR NATURE YOU ARRIVED WITHOUT FUSS OR PAIN--THE FIRST TIME OUR EYES MET WE KNEW OUR LIVES WOULD NEVER BE THE SAME
AS A BABY AND TODDLER YOU MADE US SO PROUD
YOUR VERY LONG HAIR, GREEN EYES AND SMILE-
ALL THOSE GOOD LOOKS MADE YOU STAND OUT IN A CROWD
YOU STARTED TALKING EARLY WITH MANY VOICEPRINTS
YOUR CHARM AND GOOD LOOKS HAVE NOT STOPPED SINCE
YOU LOVED YOUR DOLLS AND PRAMS-- DREAMT OF BEING A “SINGER”
AND VERY QUICKLY LEARNED HOW TO WRAP YOUR DAD AROUND YOUR LITTLE FINGER
YOUR BIG BROTHER DEVON--BEST FRIEND AND PROTECTER
MOST OF THE TIME YOU GOT ON PERFECTLY TOGETHER
FROM AN EARLY AGE YOU SHOWED YOUR LOVE OF SWIMMING
AGE TWO AND A HALF YOU WERE ABLE AND WILLING
TO SWIM UNDER WATER AND DO MANY LENGTHS
THIS WAS CLEARLY ONE OF YOUR SPORTING STRENGTHS
AT AGE THREE YOU COULD BARELY WAIT TO START PLAYSCHOOL
“MISS INDEPENDENCE”, WAS YOUR GENERAL RULE
THE SLIDE AND JUNGLE GYM WERE YOUR FAVOURITE SPOTS
AND TO OUR HORROR YOU WOULD CLIMB RIGHT TO THE TOP!
AT AROUND THIS TIME, YOUR FIRST BOYFRIEND YOU MET-
HE LIVED NEXT DOOR, AND HIS NAME WAS BRETT
SOON IT WAS TIME FOR PRE-SCHOOL
YOU LOVED YOUR TEACHER--YOUR NEW FRIENDS WERE COOL
‘SPRING BONNETS’ AND THE END OF YEAR SCHOOL PLAYS
THE TEDDY BEAR CLASS GAVE YOU SOME REAL SPECIAL DAYS
NEXT WAS ‘BIG SCHOOL’ AND YOUR FIRST CLASS
WE WERE SERIOUSLY ANXIOUS BUT FOR YOU JUST ANOTHER ‘MISS INDEPENDENCE’ TASK
LETTERLAND, MATHS AND LEARNING TO READ
YOU EXCELLED AT ALL THAT WITH INCREDIBLE SPEED
YOUR ACHIEVEMENTS CONTINUED THROUGH GRADES 2, 3 AND FOUR
YOUR PLACE IN THE SWIMMING TEAM HELPED YOUR SCHOOL WIN MORE
OUR MOVE TO AUSTRALIA… SAD FAREWELLS TO YOUR FRIENDS AND YOUR PETS
BUT, GREAT EXCITEMENT YOU FELT AT ADVENTURES TO BE MET
A NEW SCHOOL--“METHODIST LADIES COLLEGE”
NEW FRIENDS--JUMPING A GRADE-- MET WITH SUCH POSITIVE COURAGE
YOU MADE US SO PROUD IN THE WAY YOU ADAPTED
MRS. WILLIAMSON SAID YOU WERE THEIR NEW CLASS ‘ASSETT’
THE ‘MR BEE’ SPELLING AWARD AND MANY MERITS LATER
WE ALL GOT HOMESICK-- BUT YOUR POSITIVE NATURE DID NOT WAVER
THE DECISION WE MADE TO RETURN TO CAPE TOWN
CAUSED YOU HEARTBROCKEN TEARS AND A PERMANENT FROWN
ONCE AGAIN A SAD FAREWELL TO YOUR NEW FOUND FRIENDS
RETURNING TO S.A. FOR OLD ONES TO MAKE AMMENDS
IT WASN’T VERY LONG THAT YOU PICKED UP WHERE YOU LEFT OFF AT ALL
ADDED TO YOUR TALENTS WERE NOW TEAM HOCKEY AND NETBALL
AS YOU APPROACHED THE FIRST OF YOUR TEEN YEARS
WITH YOUR LOOKS AND CHARM, INEVITABLY THE BOYFRIENDS WOULD APPEAR
SHOPPING, MOVIES AND MANY PARTY SLEEP-OVERS
CHOOSING TRUE FRIENDS AND DUMPING THE LOSERS
DANCE SHOWS AND DANCING EXAMS… YOU EXCELLED AT HIP- HOP
FUN AND OF COURSE THE DESIRE TO SHOP
THE END OF JUNIOR SCHOOL-- THE FINAL ASSEMBLY—AWARDS
TROPHIES FOR SPORTSMANSHIP AND YOUR S.R.C. PRIZE GOT MANY APPLAUDS
SAD FEELINGS AT LEAVING YOUR OLD SCHOOL BEHIND
EXCITEMENT AT STARTING HIGH SCHOOL WOULD SOON COME TO MIND
NO PROBLEM TO YOU, IT WAS ALL JUST A BREEZE
AS YEAR BY YEAR YOU CONTINUED TO ACHIEVE
SWIMMING AND ‘A’ TEAM HOCKY MATCHES ON THE ASTRO TURF
YOU EVEN STARTED TO LEARN HOW TO SURF
FRIDAY AFTERNOON CHRISTIAN MEETINGS AND EVENING CHURCH YOUTH
WE WERE SO HAPPY YOU FOUND GOD AND HIS TRUTH
THE REST OF HIGH SCHOOL PASSED IN THE BLINK OF AN EYE WHILE
YOUR LIST OF ACHIEVEMENTS REMAINED EXCEPTIONALLY HIGH
YOUR ORGANISATIONAL SKILLS WERE ASTOUNDING
COPING WITH TOUGH SUBJECTS LIKE MATHS, SCIENCE AND ACCOUNTING
IN HOCKEY AND SWIMMING YOU MADE THE TOP TEAMS
NO SURPRISE AT ALL THAT SWIMMING COACHES MOVED IN ON THE SCENE.
THEY CULTIVATED YOUR TALENTS FROM STRENGTH TO STRENGTH
EVERY YOUR NIGHT YOUR PASSION SAW YOU DOING MANY LENGTHS
WEEKENDS OF GALA’S AND NATIONAL SWIMMING
S.A.SHORT COURSE, YOUR P.B’S, AND FAIR SHARE OF WINNING
TOGETHER WE CELEBRATED YOUR PLACE IN W.P. SCHOOL CHAMPS THAT YEAR
SO PROUD OF OUR BEAUTIFUL SWIMMER ALWAYS AHEAD OF HER PEERS
FIRST YEAR AT UNIVERSITY YOU BECAME SO INDEPENDENT
STARTING YOUR STUDIES AS A B.Sc. STUDENT
IT WAS ALSO THE YEAR YOU LEARNED TO DRIVE
GOT YOUR LICENSE—DAD SPOILT YOU—NEW CAR—RESPLENDENT
YOUR FAITH AND TRUST IN THE LORD STILL REMAINS FIRM
AS YOU WALK AND GROW SPIRITUALLY DAILY WITH HIM
SO MUCH HAS CHANGED, AND YET SOME THINGS REMAIN
YOU BEAUTY AND TALENTS SO EASILY MAINTAINED
YOUR LOVE OF SWIMMING AND OUTSTANDING ACHIEVEMENTS IN WATER
YOU KNOW WE WILL ALWAYS BE YOUR NO. 1 SUPPORTERS
AND NOW YOU ARE 21, SWEETHEART
YOUR WHOLE LIFE AHEAD OF YOU-- TODAY IS JUST THE START
IT SEEMS LIKE JUST YESTERDAY THAT YOU WERE BORN—
OUR DAUGHTER~LOVES BRIGHT SHINING LIGHT~ WE ADORE
YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL AND TALENTED IN EVERY WAY
WISHING YOU GOD’S RICHEST BLESSINGS ON YOUR SPECIAL DAY
HAPPY 21ST BIRTHDAY TO OUR BABY GIRL
TO HAVE YOU AS A DAUGHTER HAS BEEN A REAL PLEASURE
-YOU HAVE AND ALWAYS WILL BE OUR MOST BEAUTIFUL TREASURE-
(FOOTNOTE: OUR DAUGHTER WILL BE 23 THIS YEAR, HAS COMPLETED HER BSc. AND HONOURS DEGREE’S IN PHYSIOLOGY AND GENETICS AND NOW DOING HER MASTERS DEGREE IN EXERCISE SCIENCE. SHE IS ALSO A PROFESSIONAL TRIATHLETE—DOING SWIMMING, CYCLING AND RUNNING AS ONE DISCLIPLINE)
A is for algae, red, green, blue cells, soaking up sun, sliming teeth
B is for bacterial mat, clumping underneath, earliest born, never asleep
C is for coral reef, the place we all find cover or the sand parrotfish chew and release
D is for diatom, all seeded calcium, all float free, all denizens barely seen
E is for eelgrass, nursery meadows of the anchovy, and other browsers of green
F is for fan worm, filter feeder like a flower, 8000 species on which fish feed
G is for giant kelp, floating on bladders of air they’re forests of cold waters clean
H is for helmet, the royalty of snails who protect our feet, queen, emperor, king
I is for isopod, the chameleon crustacean, they color match what they eat
J is for jellyball, or cannonball jellyfish, not upside down or moon, avoid their heat
K is for keyhole limpet, favorite food of ochre stars, will erect its own wall
L is for laver, the sea lettuce of nori, it swirls red skirt as ocean falls
M is for mermaid’s purse, the sack of the skate whose yolk keeps them alive
N is for nerite, the prisoner striped snail of the rocky zone as numerous as a hive
O is for oyster drills, the snails that slurp oysters and use them to lay eggs
P is for pleurobranch, a sea slug answer for oranges, with one active leg
Q is for quahog, the bivalve seaman who can survive eating the mud
R is for rove beetle, the one waiting to snatch the unwary beach hopper for good
S is for saxitoxin, those red tides produced by mating that can paralyze humans
T is for tubular sponge, they squish, bore and encrust as space lends
U is for urchin, those spiny skinned balls, no eyes or noses but dig food in sand
V is for Venus, Music Volutes dined or Vampire Squids skimming along land
W is for whelk, not the musically inclined, but the slow moving snail in a shell
X is for X and a half, the six rayed star, hungry for anything on the half shell
Y is for yucca, blooming on the beach, they bloom nice and tolerate the sand
Z is for Zostera marinara, the address of eel grass when they're feeling grand
All of this green life is what crunches, stinks, dries and slips underfoot
The rest that find the housing and dining compatible means someone’s on the look.
Visits long ago
to the Blaskets Islands,
to untouched areas
on the Dingle peninsula
came to mind
on this sleet winter’s eve.
nestled in heather mountains.
tongues of lonely white sand.
drenched in blue mussels
alive with shrimps and periwinkles
A sea-salted life
unspoiled and free.
Only marine life remains,
but I still hear the music
our native language,
the voices of Seanchaí
the ballads, sean?s,
who shaped our school years,
her renditions of island life
her mad pise?gs,
from generation to generation.
Islanders huddled together
open turf fires
cooking pot on a hook,
the sweet air wafting
of clay pipe tobacco
a pinch of snuff
sniffed from a silver box,
nursing a glass
of neat Poitín, uisce beatha,
the strong smell of tweeds
and geansaí báinín.
I think of times lost,
where goats roam free,
An Blascaod Mór
my history, my heritage.
Gaelic words in this poem
* Seanchaí – storytellers
Sean?s – singing without music
Peig Sayers and her mad pise?gs – A Gaelic writer who we studied in school and her mad superstitions.
Poitín, uisce beatha – very strong alcohol made from potatoes, called the water of life.
geansaí báinín – strong sheep wool sweaters usually in a cream colour with complex patterns.
The clock strikes nine. Ink fills the night sky, until the silvery orb in the heavens is the only source of light.
The clock strikes twelve. Tiny pinpricks of light dot the raven-dark heavens. They shine brightly; as if each was
trying to outdo the last. I sit. And stare. And wonder. The clock strikes three. I shift and pick up my
homework. The assignment is a three page essay, due today. Should I do it? Nah... I toss it aside and resume
my staring of the sky.
My only companions are my dreams
my only friends Who call out for me
their voices a melody for me to fallow
save me my friends from this Dark World
Wolfs teach me to be loyal and to fight the dark
and when make love to the dark embracing
it becoming dark myself yet not to succumb to its control
Fae teach me to kill with words And when to use them to save
Of the meanings of speech and its clever twists
To speak a truth one does not want to hear
And still make them hear tote truth
Twin sprits teach me to know the sprits
Those elusive things some call souls
Not knowing how to talk with them, we converse
Not knowing how to feel their presence, I touch them
I feel the hands brush against my skin
As dragons, teach of fire, rage, and bloodlust ,when to use it
and how to use it well like a well made WAR HAMMER
,and from the masters I learn lore and flight
for though I have no wings still I fly with them
Trees teach of patience
And the earth’s presence and how to care her
Of the minds herbs and streams to feed my roots
As my branches wither
Their Skills With The Wood Are Rival To None
Succubus and Incubus you teach of the heart,
it’s betrayals, loves, comforts
how to guard the heart, and still feel
for they know best, its mysterious ways
Whilst my heart, mind and body scream
Scream for release from this reality
To dreams and the worlds found
through their doorways
Call out to me my friends
save me from those who ridicule me
who constrain me in chains of iron as they sear my flesh
Holding me fast to things, I must not do or have
cages of words, deeds, people, and their judgments
I Hate Them, And Their Ways are both evil and cruel
I know not how long I have left
For my blood screams for vengeance
To bathe in its fires ,to soar free in the skies
where none but you can reach me
SAVE ME, MY FRIENDS I BEG YOU!!!
I long for your embrace your fiery breath
the sweet scent of wet moss you warm sprit upon mine
the pack running singing the songs
that change me to your likeness
the sleep where my heart lies in your hands
as you feed your lustful hungers upon my troubles
leaving me to sleep untroubled free of my cares and worries
giving me my heart backed still with its worries and cares but unburdened
you cleaver teachers I lust for your wisdom
and the peace you bring me
please come open the doorway
to the forests and the fire moors
save me my friends
this is also a personification
It was official. There would be no school today due to heavy snow. We heard it on the radio, during the early morning show, while Mom was preparing our breakfast. Mom sighed and dropped her head when it was announced while we danced with jubilation around the kitchen table shouting “No school today. We can play all day!!” Little did we know this excitement would be short-lived.
on a windowpane---
A hearty breakfast was followed by watching some cartoons. The rest of the morning was spent playing in our rooms. The weather outside deteriorated into the afternoon as our morning’s jubilant joy was soon depleted. Our longing to play outside was denied us and we found ourselves quickly bored. A day out or school was not meant to be stuck inside looking out at the falling snow…or so we deemed.
lets the sun spread it’s grin
Slowly warming the beds
awakening the flowers
as they raise their heads
birds chorus dawns delight
melancholic tunes contrite
Nature’s charms begin to stir
Doors slam shut and engines whirr
A shout of ‘Hello’, or ‘Good morning dear’,
Friendly waves and nods of cheer
Then traffic jams and people queue
Paper stands sell the daily news
Off to work the adults go
mums to school with kids in tow
A lovely day is off to start
Fulfilled with joy ‘till sun departs.
Row, row and sing,
Rest, rest and listening.
We'll listen to the lullaby of a siren's voice.
We''ll hear the ambience
Of the night's silence.
Walk, walk and talk,
Stand, stand and be proud.
You, Man … Are The Angles
To My Curves
Hard and Sharp Corners
To My Circular-Swerves
You Are Exact
To My Abstract
You Are Algebra
To My Pre-School Math
You Are Calculus
To My Abacus
You Are The Chemical
To My Stimulus
You Are The Extra
To My Average
You Are The Multiply
To My Nothing Added
You Are Autonomy
To My Anatomy
You Are The Fractal
In My Infinity
You Are Geometry To Me:
You Are Steep Mountains
To My Mounds and Valley
You Are Raindrops In The Forest
To My Snow-Ballet
You Are Hot Desert Sands
To My Cold Ocean Waves
You Are The Mirage man
To My Love-Slave
You Are Dimension-Diamonds
To My Parallel-Pearls
You Are The Universe
To My World
You Are The Prism
To My Beam Of Light
and You Are The Days
Resting Upon My Nights …
And You Are Geometry To Me …
Geometry (?e?µet??a; geo = earth, metria = measure)
is a part of mathematics concerned with questions of size, shape,
and relative position of figures and with properties of space.
(uncountable) The branch of mathematics dealing with spatial relationships;
(countable) A type of geometry with particular properties;
Geometry is one of the oldest sciences. ...
As the dawn expells its authoritive cast; they awake, but are abandoned. They
turn--but their friend the sun ignores and they understand. They commune
their relationship and part with their memories; and sigh.
They say their good-byes in a tone of fullfilment, but aface their anxieties
toward the skies for hope; but are denied. A clouded sky brings a chill in the
air and a rustling of rakes and flames.
Old as hell, written in HS for publication, circa 1971 by me. When I was young in the 60's in Ohio, we burned leaves in our backyard; sometimes our household trash too. You had to be me to be there GV. Count me in as last place. Take care.
Put the children out to play,
to walk in fields, to roll in hay
No concrete halls, no dues to pay
Just clouds to watch till end of day.
Paddling, struggling, striving,
We're canoeing and living.
Camping, hiking, sleeping,
We'll be journeying and dreaming.
Eating, singing, lifting,
We are having an adventuring.
Paddling, leaving, packing,
We're going and floating.
Arriving, accomplishing, celebrating,
We'll be returning, our homecoming.
Remembering, wishing, thinking,
We will be having lasting memories.
Tackle box, fishing poles, radio, a good book to read
In a quite little alcove , the back outskirt of Lake Mead
The desert sun burning the sky, I’m comfortable in the shadow
I see the shad chumming toward the shore, my bait a live minnow
Suddenly, down the shoreline, I see the water, rapidly rippling my way
I was about to see, a vicious act of Nature: a school of large striped bass
A hundred strong with a school of fifty tagging along : the bass kicked …
I wonder Are The TROUT biting??
Inspired by Amy Green’s Contest : : I saw with my own Eyes
July 8, 1979 -- 10:50 A.M. Lake Mead , Henderson Nevada
It’s mid-October, and the cool morning air
refreshes and replenishes the players as they march
across a muddy lacrosse field, the low sun
that manages to peek through the gray clouds
glistening off the beady surface of grass blades.
The stage is set for glory.
We have hot oil in China,
Rising slowly from the ground
There is a deep dense fog hovering round
The air is smokey, so dense it seems green
The sun so hot it's making everyone lean
Curfews so early all think it's obscene
And the hot oil keeps rising, if you know what I mean
Hot oil keeps rising, it doesn't go down
It's been well over a month since it covered the ground
Machinery moves carelessly all through the night
I bothers us so much we boarded up the windows tight
I bought ear plugs but I gave them to my brother Mike
Bells keep bleeping on and off go the lights
So another pair of ear plugs I bought
School won't let me wear them, saying I'll rot
So I decided to grow my hair long
Hide my ear plugs under it all day long
But when I go home at night
And I cover up really tight
And I pray because theres nothing else we can do
Oh hear me Lord, don't let my mother find the ear plugs in my shoe
I Am MoonBeam
My Sisters, StarLights
My Brothers, SunRays
My Family of Heaven
My Mother, DawnSky
Father of Celestial Lights (James 1: 17)
Taught At Universe-High
By Father’s Master-Degree
And Mother’s Alma-Mater
Dine At Dimension-Table
In Our Galaxy
Our: Cambridge, Yale, Oxford and Harvard
Are: Comets, Orbits, and Asteroids
Black-Holes, Pulsars, Waves and Quarks
Red Giants and Red and Snow-White Dwarfs
Enlightened Astronomers, Radiant New Worlds
Time-Continuum, To Unfurl
And A Big, Blue Jewel, Freed From Cataclysm
Light-Years Away, From Today …
But Still Quenching Thirst, On Milky-Way
and Planetary-Rings and Eclipse
Satellites, and Soaring-Rocket-Ships
Atomics and Evenings-Scholarly
Lectures, On Pure-Energy
To Explore and Expand Brilliantly
‘Diplomas’ … thru Eternity
I Am MoonBeam
My Sisters, StarLights
My Brother, ‘Big’ SunRay
Shone-Academic-Bright ! …
Colored pencils in an artist’s even hand
sketch rolling fields of wavy grass
sprouting from the barren plain
of barren pages.
Now she reaches for Burnt Sienna.
A bird lays an egg
She keeps it warm
It starts to crack
And it hatches, during a heavy storm
It was a beautiful Lorrikeet
You could tell mother bird was proud
So out of her own happiness
She joyfully tweeted aloud
Time to fly, little Lorrikeet
Mother Bird encourages him
So he jumps off the tree
And swoops through the sky like a queen bee
On a quiet night
A van pulls up to the tree
A shadowy figure scales it well
And he was tranquilized, faster than you could to five
Daybreak in a pet shop
He was in a cage, that's all Lorrikeet knew
Surrounded by a rainbow of birds
Name a bird and It was in view
The other birds learnt of Lorrikeet's intelligence
But then they bullied him for it
Lorrikeet grew depressed
There was no bird to make him not want to throw himself in a pit
So Lorrikeet was trapped
Trapped in a cruel world of hate
One day he'll be free
But there is no specified date
But then a little girl walked into the Pet store
But like anyone her age, she was looking at the puppies
Little girl asked Mum for a pup, but she said no
But then the tears roll down her face, What a sad show
Then something is spied in the corner of her eye
The beautiful Lorrikeet looking out of the glass cage
The little girl runs up to the cage and admires the beauty of the birds
Which are staring at the girl like one giant herd
The little girl decided for ages
Deciding which bird. There were cages and cages
But then Lorrikeet tweeted. Oh It was beautiful like a flute
The Little girl said it was a lovely toot
And so Lorrikeet was chosen
Chosen to be taken home by this sweet innocent child
Lorrikeet was happy to leave the cage of sorrow
He'll be playing with bells and eating the finest seed this time tomorrow
I wrote this poem to teach that through the hardship of bullying, victims can go on to
live long fulfilling lives. Which is the only thing that keeps my head high :)
Twinkle twinkle, little star,
93 million miles far.
Giver of light, supporter of life,
energy, climate and season device.
The sun is a star, we're glad it is here,
as our life support, for 5 billion years.
This star is among the brightest in space,
though close, many questions about it remain.
With violet ,orange, and reddish of hues,
our home solar system pivots on you.
8,000 degrees of Kelvin heat,
elements of Hydrogen and Helium meet.
Over 100 times the size of the Earth,
rotating once is a seven day turn.
The first of three layers is visible light,
the thick photosphere is a veil of white.
The atmosphere there is a plasma in ways,
which emits a series of wavelengths and rays.
A more defined trait are the patches of dark,
Sunspots are cooler, magnetically charged.
These spots tend to vary and alter in shape,
every 11 years, new cycles take place.
Solar cycles can affect the weather on Earth,
filters and color are how they’re observed.
Direct observation can damage the eyes,
I'd advise that precautions be sought and applied.
The heat is supplied by a core via fusion,
and exits as energy and light distribution.
Plasma is also among things released,
Solar Flares on the surface are a common sight seen.
All around they emit rays, X and UV,
which frequently jam radio frequencies.
Close to the sunspots, the flares can be viewed,
particles majestically travel in loops.
The Sun, like the Moon, is a welcomed companion,
life without it cannot be imagined.
Twinkle twinkle, little star,
93 million miles far.
Giver of light, supporter of life,
always shining, through day and through night.
I Wasn’t enough to just be myself
I had to be what you wanted of me
Without any creativity
And a façade for a personality
So I Guess I Just Live a Lie
Just to Satisfy
And surely survive
Your torment spitting opinion
A Semblance of the independence I held inside
No matter how small it let out a cry
I will redeem my pride
And be perfect, free, me
i use to lie awake at night
and ponder of this pointless life
up for hours and not make a sound
i once was lost but now i am found
my sea of confusion, like moses did part
the instant i let jesus inside of my heart...
but than i let out a gigantic huge fart
and realized it was just indigestion
than like a sensible person, i began to question
and out of those questions, came rational thought
and all of the things in school i was taught
like critical thinking and following facts
so i came to the conclusion: religions a quack
now i live happily, in awe of earth's mysterious beauty
and if you don't like it, you can kiss my patooty
(My very first poem)
I used to hide
In my pine tree
I could feel safe and big
Sitting in my monkey fort.
Now I can't
They say I'm too old
Instead I sit in the cafeteria
Eating my bananas.
(C) 1971, 1998 RosaSheila Barrera
This poem was published in "LA FONT" a high school literary collection....
I would like to see,
Snow, frozen H2O this year.
It hardly does here.
Teens walk the streets full of fear,
A ton of murders every year,
Hate and knives,
These are the things I see,
But they shall never create me,
It's crazy how most of our teen
murders are gang related,
For some teens never had love,
After joining a gang,
They will fight for their lives,
To the point where guns are being
More than a singing bird,
And murders are being committed
more than child birth,
And some see Detroit as hell on
But no one pays attention to the
intelligence our teens are worth,
For Detroit is a city full of broken
Hoping one day all gangs will work
And unite as a team,
Then we will create a great future,
For Detroit's wound will rejoin with
And one day we will make a
Detroit is a city full of hope.
I do not know?
i see an ocean wave crashing with no mercy
destroying everything in its path
i see an ocean wave killing other people
swallowing their houses and their life
all of what they worked for
is now gone,
nobody can save what under the water now
this one wave took everything
killed all of their dreams and hopes
but still it did it so gracefully
that it made me hope
it made me think of flowers
in an open field
flowers so colorful
that even when their asleep
they take your breath away
from the beauty they unleash
a beauty so disastrous
that it kills everything in their path?!!
wow, this beauty's like a curse on earth
it serves as well
but at the same time it kills are hearts
the hearts of people filled with dreams
well, none of that matters now
because their dead and so is their dream
some may have thought of college
after a four year high school degree
they all had hopes just like you and i
well now they dont even have a home
to look out of the window on a long dreadful night
but those who made it out alive
they can still dream
in fact they can make it happen
build a knew hope far away from the water far away from the light
they may even escape the cold dreadful nights
but its useless because even in the desert will they live
a hurricane will start the grief again
so you keep building, keep achieving
going nowhere with your life
just remember you can never run enough
to hide from the wrath of God
You to stop
Messing up the
Planet. Recycle, it’s not hard to do.
No more litter should be done. The earth
Is sick. The oz-
Has a huge
Oceans are get-
Ting saltier. Species of plants and an-
Imals are dying. Natural disa-
Sters are more fre-
Quent. This should
Mess up the earth,
Really bothers me. I hope that it does
The same action to you. That is why I
Challenge you to
The late afternoon sun falls slowly in the sky
its radiant heat so strong as to slow time
for all sad creatures sitting squinting
gazing in the distance, prying open the mind’s eye
Hearts beat at a cloud’s pace,
and sweat streams down faces slow and winding as the river Nile
A sigh. The tearing of a page. But little inspiration.
Searching desperately for diversion
I turn my gaze to the wavy distance
where scores of empty vessels are parked
lonely in a tarmac field
no inspiration there.
Two dozen unique individuals stare straight ahead
and file past silently in lines going two by two
blank expressions plastered on faces like wallpaper
no inspiration there.
Two cars, one black and one white,
pass without greetings in the baking street
and drive away out of sight, forgotten to each other forever
Such is the numbing silent pain of a draught.
The world needs the rain.
Nightlit clouded water shines.
Raindrops lightly pour on me,
Who knows what tomorrow will be.
Sleep in a cabin,
Sit round a fire.
Talk like we'll never tire.
Voice of the darkness
Singing within silence.
While I lie on this stone wall
hand almost too weary to write
I can see tiny ants scurrying about on the pavement
curious mobile sesame seeds exploring an empty bottle
and the last few of the lonely afterschool crowd
shuffle into cars and drive away
here I sit, alone in my pondering
the wind and rustle in the trees
speaking to me and me only.
Upon this ground I have tread many times
many times have I, too, shuffled past nature with nary a thought
but today my senses are sharpened somehow through exhaustion and lack of
and the grounds speak to me with a voice and a soul
that no man could possess.
Weakness has made me aware of nature’s
awesome power. Sugar ants
crawl all over my leg and I pay no mind. For
the air smells and tastes green as the spider grass,
and the forest canopy shields my
fair skin from the sun.
Some people spend their whole lives looking for peace.
I have found peace here
no siren can rival the chirping of the birds
no bitter taste can wash away this sweetness
and all my pain is but a leaf carried away on the breeze.
The cosmic ray detector lies
dormant in the corner, as it has remained for half a year
but, ah, cosmic rays still penetrate the walls of our classroom,
just as the morning sun quietly filters in through the door-window,
passing unnoticed through my body at lightspeed
My home state loses a football field,
Of coastal land each day of the year.
I’m no cheerleader about this,
It fills my heart with fear.
I wish I had funds to donate to the cause.
Maybe if I expressed my thoughts of the situation,
It would cause others to pause.
As the pelicans swim to the beat,
Of their inward drum,
And contribute to the state,
That many other states of the union,
Were carved from.
Way back before humans existed,
Our dear state Louisiana was merely sea floor.
If we humans that exist today,
Don’t get serious about this erosion problem,
The state where jazz was born,
Will be sea floor once more.
Our coastal industries, beautiful magnolia trees,
And the capital of the Old South,
Will no longer exist.
We won’t be able to reminisce about anything,
If our hindrance persists.
Like bacteria attacks a cell,
Our precious land is being attacked as well.
Like our educated out migrants,
Land is leaving without being replaced.
Saving this land helps us ecologically:
This includes the human race.
Please fellow residents and people who once,
Or never lived here before.
Fill Louisiana’s heart with cheer,
By contributing to this worthy cause.
If one can’t give monetarily,
He or she should then take a pause.
Be creative and think of other ways,
That one is able to help this wonderful state.
We would certainly appreciate anything you do,
To help us out.
I know the pain of the land will be eased,
Without a doubt.
Our state has faith in us as we have faith in it.
Let us not only be cheerleaders, but star players.
So that our precious land can stay strong,
Throughout its layers.
This erosion problem can be very costly:
Climatic changes, loss of land, animal and plant species,
And human lives are just a few.
Please help save our wetlands,
Because it is part of the old and of the new.
Wrote November 2003 almost exactly 2 years before Hurricane Katrina,
while student @ ULM and concerned about the issue, as a student and scientist the topic of
New Orleans going under and the Mississippi River flow and creation of Louisiana was talked
about since I was in elementary school in the mid '80s was a main topic of concern for the
gubernatorial election held that year, and during that political official's term as governor,
Hurrican Katrina hit, Louisiana politics I tell you- they simply tell people what they want to
Round and round they go,
Hands criss-crossed in the middle
Of school yard whirl winds.
To kill, the shrill of a thrill,
To take any life is truly wrong.
Thou shall not hurt even a fly.
They are guardians of the sky.
They begin crawling strong.
Disgustingly devouring meal,
Each organism has a plan.
Serving nature’s scheme,
Designing a destiny,
Between now and infinity
When it becomes extreme,
Bringing about another span,
As always existence ends.
All things must perish.
To bring out renewal,
There must be removal.
Stretching out to cherish,
You will make amends.
The dove lit on the ledge outside the lady's room,
Back and forth with pieces of straw we watched him zoom--
For a nest he was building with the help of his mate,
There she would lay her eggs--she couldn't be late.
Tiny babies hatched with great big mouths to feed-
Mom and Dad worked hard to feed their babes on seeds,
The young ones grew up so very, very fast-
To teach them to fly-the time came at last.
Mom and Daddy dove looked at the lady in the bed,
Probably thinking that maybe she needed to be fed-
My patient laughed, for in bird lore she was famed-
She taught in the high school which bore her name.
"They are really so sweet for they are thinking of me"--
She said as a tear dripped down on her knee,
"The babies are flying and leaving the nest,
They now have some free time to get some good rest."
Doves are snow white because they're so pure,
Innocent and trusting, they could also cure--
Men's bitterness and hatred respond to the "coo",
With musical voices that bring love to us too.
make up clouds
Low, Middle and
and gas far from
close to ground
in a foggy
clouds, say moisture
fast or slow
per hour at
ride a jet
stream move faster
form as snow
in the freezing
cloud and ground make
life to all
then repeat the
cools by way
of giving off
from sea makes a
the world it has
as our blanket
Sweet and salty,
That time of year everyone's ready for the heat.
From Alaska to Florida,
California to Maine,
In teens and kids,
A time to celebrate.
School's out for now,
Gone are the books,
Late night crunch time,
And early risings.
For three months its swimming,
Sleepovers and camping.
It's summer time, baby!
Big and bright and school bus size
A cloud of yellow butterflies
With the wind did sink and rise
On the way home from school
A hundred if there was a pair
They’re not aggressive – au contraire
They seemed to just float in the air
On the way home from school
The boys and I were mesmerized
Surrounded by these butterflies
Following us to our surprise
On the way home from school
A sight like this is awfully rare
From whence they came we knew not where
All we could do was sit and stare
On the way home from school
If I can then emphasize
And give advice both sage and wise
Always open up your eyes
On the way home from school
Written for my niece at her request following a ride home from school with her boys.
The moment the second string is cut
and the cog flies through space
until it settles on the bottom
and the third string reveals itself!
3:35 p.m., Thursday afternoon
school’s just let out, and everyone’s joyful for the long weekend.
Here I pause, outside the vocational building at the summit of the hill
where I have been many times before, but never in the past three years.
Giant yellow leviathans still roar by, spewing dust
and carrying cargoes of lost souls, just as they did when I rode one of them to
on my first day of sixth grade. Now I’m a senior in high school, and
soon I will leave all of this behind physically, though spiritually I be gone already
perched high above, I feel as if I have transcended my peers,
each the consummation of some love long since past,
who even now laugh, smile, and carry on as they scurry into their cars and drive
How happy they seem! How full of life! How innocent!
But they are so far
Right now my soul is closer to the blue, blue sky, through which I am soaring, far
the distant hills that roll out to the horizon like an enormous sheet of Astroturf
casing the falling sun, far, far above any mortal strife,
carried on the backs of sunbeams, past where clouds would sit were the day not
my face is kissing that enormous yellow ball of love
But I have stayed too long!
Ah, my eyes have strayed too far!
Even now they are drawn to that tan pickup truck
belonging to my lost Love!
Even now they are scanning through the ants in the parking lot
to find that pink backpack, that flowery dress!
Even now She is passing through the calamity unscathed,
accompanied by two friends and another man!
Even now they are tossing their bookbags into the back,
piling into the cab, and slipping away!
Oh, the world is so deep and so wide! and amid the heartless rubble
I have already found for myself a flawless Jewel!
but now She is falling away,
out of my heart,
out of my grasp,
out of my sight,
into the arms of the sweet hereafter.
Some time later I returned to Lake Norman,
not as an underdressed yet fearless sailor-man,
but as myself, passing through Davidson
late on a June Sunday afternoon
on my way to visit Duke University.
How lazy and peaceful it was that day!
How calmly the students meandered about
the innocent, quiet campus!
How cheerful the squirrels! How happy the clouds!
How glorious the sunset!
How small the world became at that moment
compared to the vastness of stormy days long since past!
“Freeze your nuts off”
What a gray, gray day at Lake Norman
the worst weekend for a first regatta
our sloops were plastic toy boats in a toddler’s bathwater
and we the hapless Lego men
the November wind screamed through my windbreaker,
which could not keep my quivering body warm enough
after three times out wrestling with the lake
the lake! It was the Maelstrom to my novice hands!
and I caught a monstrous cold, nearly vomiting
from the richness of the air in the Starbucks, and
four hours of carsickness on the drive back to Knoxville
Ah, but I would not trade that day for a weekend at home!
“It’s a snail, crept up on
by a spider, mutating into a
porcupine, being eaten by a jellyfish!”
What a work of art!
I apologize, mere words cannot describe it!