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Best 11Th Grade Poems | Poetry

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The Best 11Th Grade Poems

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

You are more than what eyes can see

You are not what they think of you,
Your heart doesn't change when your hair gets hue.

You are not the fashion trend you follow,
You are above perceptions which are hollow.

Your bright lipstick is just an accessory,
It shouldn't change due to sarcasm or decree.

Your tone shouldn't overrule your statement,
Your no is denial and your yes is the agreement.

Your smile is mere happiness, not a proposal,
Your stands in an argument are views, they don't make you unfilial.

Your body is a sheath for your soul,
You must never accept judgements for a part or the whole.

For, you are precious and a blessing on the earth,
Nobody can do your job and can ever fill your dearth.

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

Dani a Charming CVS Pharmacist

within Zieglerville, pennsylvania

genuine snow white hair 
upon her noggin doth adorn,
perhaps she will divulge to me (in private) 
after i croon (to said lass), 

the melody of Jimmy Crack Corn
hmm...or, maybe this mission 
perchance twill be doomed from the start, 
and hence finding me forlorn 
thenceforth, a backup contingency measure, 

would warrant me to don my thinking cap,
and for extra ordinary reinforcement unfold 
each Taj Mahal shaped ear flap
plus (for reinforced ironic steeliness), 

aye also resort to buttress 
any aural "stormy Dani yelling) 
via walled in interlap, 
which accouterment functions 
as a double agent i.e. (or, 

to be rather crude), 
an audiological jockstrap
to vet or figuratively kneecap
any unwanted infiltrating leaping lap
ping "FAKE" distracting news 
inducing madcap

mass media circus 
driving this generic teetotaler
to pour himself a nightcap 
essentially providing wig gull room 
with very little margin of ear err, or overlap
against bigwigs to trumpet pap 

pill low ma rendered free and clear 
asper insidious (mama mia) paparazzi 
charting imp pea ching fear
bringing out bare arms 

most likely something internuclear 
simply to discover visa vis authenticity 
if cute employee 
(sporting hair 

white as the virgin snow), 
which doth simmer and glare
blindingly, thus necessitating sunglasses 
(I choose the Ray-Ban brand)
as recommended by cited 

all time favorite pharmacist
who unwittingly (or simply because 
my myopic eyes didst stare)
fixedly - drawn to such a darling (doll ling)
explaining any reason to go THERE
to CVS - that tis where.

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

death of a christian science English teacher

i remember well the name of my 11th grade English
teacher---
Ms. Tominson,
who had been rumored to have given
some of her students
fellatio, during the time when she wasn’t lecturing on
Shakespeare---
perhaps it was the passion in her that
let her go wild after hours,
drinking with her teen pupils &
then sucking them dry---
but what led to her decent into
christian science,
one may never know---
it was a part of her life kept secret,
an insanity that only she knew &
when she fell down her stairs
(or so we were told),
she refused medical treatment,
lying in bed, unable to move,
hoping, no doubt,
for “the good lord’s guidance”---
but it never came,
um, pssst…..
(whispering) because “he” never does
&
she died TWO MONTHS LATER.

when her death was made known to us
over the loudspeaker,
in early morning home room,
those who had been rumored to have been 
pleasured by her,
had conflicted feelings, 
because though they still wanted blowjobs,
they were sad to see her go,
for she was, after all, a good teacher &
a fun person,
despite having been brainwashed by the 
absurdity of Eddy.

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

Latino-Americanos: The Children of an Oscuro Pasado

Baile con migo, hips made from the rhythm of merengés and cumbias, samba, swagger and a pinch of azucar mixed into my backbone.
My first language was Spanish.
Learned from sweet stories told by my papi at bedtime.
My tongue a formation of the stardust of my heritage,
An intertwined galaxy of rolled r’s and the pledge of allegiance.
It was something I would soon forget after I was told it was wrong
Taught a new way to introduce myself “mi nombre es” turned to “my name is” after the girl in my class told me she couldn’t understand me.
So I was taught to reject the language of my family and to be proud to call myself American over Mexican.
Now my Spanish 2 native class seems so god damn foriegn and I can't seem to remember what comes after domingo on my pop quiz.
I would learn to hate my name, much preferring something like Tiffany,
Leaving behind my silent TL and X that sounds like an S because they said it was strange.
When I visit my grandmother all I could do is nod or shake my head,
Because her native language sounds like a tongue twister I can't seem to master.
So she reminds me that the colors in my soul and the rhythm in my bones are blessings and that I come from the Incas, the Mayans, the Aztecs, los Mexicas, who built an empire nunca imaginado.
That we are a children of an oscuro pasado,
A mixture of pain, sadness and oppression,
But we inherited the strength.
We have inherited the passion.
She reminds me that my name holds the power of the most legendary Aztec princesses who ruled with the grace of the most beautiful flower.
So this is for the women that still name their children in nahuatl and the men who wake up on Sunday mornings to listen to Vicente Fernandez with their fathers,
And families that still pass on recipes of arroz con pollo.
Because we are the sons and the daughters,
And we hold the stories,
The journeys of the remembered,
Those who walked through deserts, waded through rivers.
We wear their legacies on our shoulders with pride,
And we do not lose ourselves to broken perceptions,
But rise above with the help of our powerful stories.
Our melodies, our galaxies,
Por que somos Latino-Americanos
And we will not be forgotten

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

Why love me with a betrayal

Why love me with a betrayal?
Immature was just me,who believed to be?
But his promises were false and
all his lies were his love.
Why love me with a betrayal?

I lost heart too,at the time of doing it.
But the thousand pieces of my heart made it.
Because his promises were false and
all his lies were his love.
Why love me with a betrayal?

What will she do to heart?
What will she recognize in love?
No one who loves her heart.
She is unfaithful.
She does not love.

Why love me with a betrayal?
Immature was just me, who believed to be?
But his promises were false
and all his lies were his love.
Why love me with a betrayal?

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

Instagram

As I am lying down in bed alone
my spiritless body rolls in bed and 
once again I reach out to my smartphone 
I click an app and see someone blond. 

On busy schedule, I always 
check Instagram on a daily basis. 
And I always see your face every day 
Your posts fantasizes like an oasis.

I wonder if you look at my pictures 
and hesitate on liking my photos
I wonder if you see me in features 
My heart broke down when I changed my bio 

I'm always drowning in a square ocean.
In your Instagram with emotion.

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

Pride or love

A girl whose beauty springs from her heart-,
her image in the album of my mind-
is like a golden waxing moon
exhaling torrent of light into a river,
but she in her real self is my love,
this is us in the planet of joy.
.
.
We shared poems to share joy,
but hers clinged to my heart.
with a promise of an eternal love,
which her words inscribed in my mind,
like the golden tears pouring into the river,
from the meek eyes of the moon.
.
We once sat under the moon,
with the golden light wetting us with joy.
You talked and poured an endless river-
of bliss and tranquility into my heart,
you have cleared the field of my mind-
and planted roses of love.
.
But now that I am for you, oh love-
why have you erased my pride? like the moon
that vanish at the birth of the sun. My mind
used to caress pride with joy-
but now that love is in my heart
I have lost my pride's river.
.
You spat into me like a dirty river-
because I am now enslaved by love
which govern the realm of my heart,
like over the night does the moon,
but I will enjoy the slavery with joy
and erase every pride from my mind.
.
It took me a while to cast away my mind
from pride's river,
although it seem like I was loosing my joy-
but much joy I now will receive from love,
So let me write a poem to you under the moon,
to tell you that love is better than pride in my heart.
.
My heart wont hold pride and love-
so let me accept love for it is a moon in the river
of my mind. oh my dear, be my joy.

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

Life is a poem

When life began to live,we did not know anything.
What is to be done,what was to be done,
did not we also have it?
Was the head of those parents of the hand,
those who got it was also born.
Gradually enlarged we,we now stranded the world.
We learned to earn money,teach the house to run its on.
Learn to handle even those who have brought us here.
Teach to raise the expenses too marriage and wife.
One day came my sadness,when by parents.
I got my hands off.
Going to that day when this gum broke on me.
Now,I also have to give pleasure to my children
by becoming a shadow.
For me, all life is for me now.
All I have learned from life I have to give them to.
My dreams is now,they have to suffer all for their own sake.
It is just that I have to say this is the journey of life.

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

Think Spring

Now, unlike my usually trenchant literary librettos, i regale the unknown (tum me) reader for savoir faire articulation, elocution, and indomitable tour de force proffered by spectrum of bounteous expropriated hegemony rightful to Mother Nature. 
--------------------------------------------------------
A Place Revisited Within The Mind
(an illusory escape during dead of winter).
 
The shafts of a golden veil, spring sun at noon
break through the heavily coated
overgrowth of leafy foliage
and cause shadows spar upon forest floor.

In a field of wild
a mosaic of crystalline color
from prismatic play of sunshine
upon the silently talking heads
of the swaying stalks.

the scintillating and sparkling rays
in unison with the weft
(and warp across an invisible loom)
weaves a delicious tasting warm breeze,

(which sways the boughs of treetops to and fro,
akin to an unseen baby being cradled)
brings a ladled spate of cool freshness
from the map-cap world (webbed wide)
of a manmade existence.

The grandeur of the fallow spring meadow
a pageant of exquisite dignity
by the graceful movements
from the un-choreographed fall and rise
of the unplowed acres

eyes orbit, ear re: Canal,
and twitching nostrils of sensate beings
to the mellifluous sounds
and sweet smelling aromas
that gently teasingly assault the senses
beguiling the sight,

and lulling ears into a transcendent state.
A buoyant airy tonal plume
rises into the surrounding heights
touches the breadth of cerulean sky
and scythe lent lee gently tumbles back down
like a merry widow waltzing flowery water fall.

In quiet circumspection 
the antics sans plethora of buzzfeed ding
busily buzzing foraging insects,
which contentedly hum and alight nearby

flitting to and fro
oblivious to plaudits encore
harmoniously thriving 
within the living laboratory

of Mother Nature,
sans, Insects or Insecta are by far
count as the largest group of
hexapod invertebrates
within the arthropod phylum,

where simultaneously
underneath the earthen surface
the ground tis abustle with
glorious heart throb

of one micro universe
comprising architects, builders and weavers
engage in all manner
of natural devices for a livelihood.

This brilliant splendor tantamount
to top notch operatic performance,
a sensational visual and audiological feast
hypnotizing one humble human (me)
into an inebriated state of bliss.

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

Social media

We walk around faceless, nameless
doing whatever we want, shameless.
Nothing ever changes
140 characters to spark outrages

Can’t flip pages online 
but we can sure as hell
act like we’re “trying”
to make the world a little less colder
but everyone’s judging
over one another’s shoulders

Boast and repost
everyone’s at each other’s throats
but who really cares the most?
We’re all behind screens
nobody knows what anyone means
relationships bursting at seams
families torn apart.

Is the best interest
really in our heart of hearts?
Keyboards fueling fires
that didn’t need to burn
when the **** will we learn
to let it all be
and be the best version 
of ourselves the world really needs?

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

death

DEATH

HE ROAMS AROUND SUCKING SOULS DRY
CUTTING THROUH TH FACE OF THE EARTH
HE OCCUPIES THE DARK RUINS OF HELL
HIS THE BROTHER OF LIFE
A SON DEVOTED TO EVIL
KILLING HIS BROTHER
TAKING HEIR TO THIS CORRUPT THRONE OF THIS WORLD

HE LOOKS AFAR AT WHA SINS LIFE HAS MADE
AND SILENTLY HE LAUGHS
CURSING THE RIGHTOUS AND MERCIFUL
BUT FOR THEM COMES 
A HAEVEN ,GLORIOSE THEN ANY PARIDISE
FOR THE POOR BECOME RICH
AND SORROWS BECOMES JOY

LIFE DEFIRES DEATH
AND BANNISHES HIM IN THE BOTTOMLESS DARK PIT
WHERE HE SHALL SIN NO MORE

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

My Jiggling boobs

since maintaining a diet 
of exercise heeding "yo dude" 
(you look like a lady)
the inner fitness maven against 
the temptation of high caloric junk food 

and nightly snack king 
on a flexible fitness routine, 
this LIX aged body electric feels good
these myopic eyes and 

well-calibrated hands measure less dense hood- 
winking bosom, that if I feigned being 
a "bared naked lady" - 
as per this chest lewd

city in reference to "man boobs" 
that seemed to materialize overnight 
now appear to decrease as well 
that unwanted "love handle, 

this chap more inclined 
tubby in a greater mood 
to parade around 
this noncrowded house shirtless 
AND definitely NOT in public, 
BUT no weigh Jose 
would this generic guy go completely nude
cuz being self-consciousness of my physique 
might prompt outsiders 

to consider me a prude
and even during closed bedroom door 
sexual exploits deter me tibia rude
fellow (with average go daddy long legs) 
and my dangling dipstick smallish 
(concluding biology screwed)
a chap worthy tube he more endowed,

though gratitude proffered
to same divine cosmic consciousness
but as the year's pile up appreciation 
of functional faculties alter matts' at tee 'tude
accepting physical characteristics 
more or less static 
hoe ping belive mass elf ya wood.

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

We can not live without you

We can not live without you.
We can not live by losing you.
You are my destiny,
we can not become anything of yours.
We can not live without you.
We can not live by losing you.
You are the world on earth, mine is mine.
My love and you are my love, mine.
We can not forget you.
We can not live without you.
We can not live by losing you.
You are involved in my breath.
You are in my eyes.
Every moment that keeps me
in my heart is your heart beat.
We can never be separated
from heart by your heartbeat.
We can not live without you.
We can not live by losing you.

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

Stay in your dreams

Stay in your dreams and live in your breath's.
Do not be far away from you but be a moment.
Yes,I love you, I am open to you.
But not silent,now I can hear it.
Live in your eyes, in your memories.
But do not stay away from you a moment.
Yes,I love you, I am open to you.
But not silent,now I can hear it.
I will walk with you and paint to yours color.
Let me tell you no one except you.
Keep your things in,your tambourine is also to endure.
And not only you, I will do any work.
I want to tell you my love, say to you I'm your friend.
From your lips I now have my name this listen.
Stay in your dreams and live in your breath's.
Do not be far away from you but be a moment.

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

Hi I say Brightly

It is a gorgeous spring day, there are greens on both sides of the road.
The smells are fantastic, and my hair is blowing like I’m on a cycle.
I’m  actually driving my new purple trans am, windows down, music blaring.
The white racing stripes might have been a bit much, but 
Not for me.  The sun is beaming on us with magic happy.

BRRRR  BRRRR GRRRR  
Should I try to outrun him?
He’s gaining on me fast.  I glance at speedometer.  Swear.
82 m.p.h. This is what happens when I listen to the Oldies.

I pull off, waiting, heart beating fast.
Lanky patrolman pulls himself out of car, gets younger as he gets closer.
“Hi,” I say, brightly.
He says, “License and registration, Ma’am.”

He is carrying his ticket pad, and a pen.
My hands are shaking as I start stammering nonsense.
He studies my license a second, says, “Just a minute, Ma’am,”
Walks back to his car, slides in, sits down, spends an hour or two in there.
I get worried I might have accidentally handed him my big-limit Visa card.

My heart is thudding, as I watch him laboriously walk back to my Trans Am
Who is not feeling so fine and foxy now. “It’s your fault!” I tell her. “You did this!”
“You were going 81,” he tells me. Eighty-two, I wisely don’t say.
“I am giving you an opportunity to slow down, and today, I’m giving you a warning,” he says.
No smile. No expression. He could give a mannequin a lesson in subtle.

I cannot help it. “Why?” 
A glimmer of an ant’s smile starts in the left corner of his mouth, for a second, but he quickly snaps it off.
“Here’s the deal, Ma’am,” he tells me.  “I stopped this car yesterday, on this same curve.  I wouldn’t feel right  about  giving you a ticket on the same corner, at the same speed after letting your 17-year-old daughter off with a warning.”
In my head I picture my adorable blonde daughter who was wearing white hot-pants yesterday.
As a last hurrah he says, “I’m going to be out here for another two hours, Ma’am.”
We both smile.
This is the best warning I’ve ever had!

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

Silence is not good in love

Why do you keep quite silently?
Some do not even tell us.
What's up in your heart
Which you are comfortable with?
Why do you keep quite silently?

No relation to you bigger than me.
No cute no more than me.
Nevertheless, no one says anything to me.
You live quietly. It there is any difficulty
Then it is also a solution.
Endurance is not unsteady.
Why do not you understand this,tell me,
what are you afraid of?

Why do you keep quite silently?
Some do not even tell us.

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

Letter From Me To Teen Me

I heard a tale once
Of vapid medium matrix
And taut smiley convolutes

A tale which embarked me
At that time
Yet gave me no notion of its truer
Nature

You see
The ocean has no currents when you’re under

You see
You don’t see into your own eyes very often

You see

But the many yous that make a lifespan up
Can see you and make you see through

There is a tremblesome youngster in all of us
The one which makes crusaderies bearable
And laughter cramps quotidian gamblers

The breathtaken gasping-at-everything
Taken aback little idiot with the
Thunder in his belly
And the crawls below her skin
And the overhead waves 
Evermore crashed within
Yes my meek teen rally
Once a half-contrived sin
Once my part bright moon
Of a solitary kin
Comes in all of us it seems

And we make up threads of social
For the fabric of our culture
That we start to weave adawn

Yet at dawn we are not there
With a full grown self aware

And at the solar peak of glare
We are still too young to care

Then at scarlet tap of dusk
Still a bit too tough to bare

Last at midnight we are gripped
With the fullest conscient gaze

So we can all marvel upon
How much oxygen we waste

In this marvellous endeavour

I think though it’s for the better
And I’ve slowly learned to praise
All the veiling in this system
Of Born
Dead
Then Raised
Then Very Dead

What I mean is there’s some Wise
In the grinds of our Ways
How Ethereum with potential
Gets palpable and cased

Because then we can all be
With the hardship of adult
And the vestige of a kid

And then we get to die
To get it over with…

But wait I still have something
A little more positive to say

Like the first person on Mars
Is likely still a kid
So when we get to Mars
We’ll still float in that kid

If you feel trapped in the smiley
And depressed and yesterdated
Version of yourself

It means you still have all
The other phases ahead

Yet it might not still be quite
As freely as you’re expecting
That your form will excavate
Through life’s cruel winding

Not all of us will get
To float our kid to Mars

Yes, you’ll get it All
Oh yes, you’ll get to try

But in the end, my friend
You’ll be glad you get to die.

11 March 2018

Best 11Th Grade Poems | Poetry

New 11Th Grade Poems

The Best 11Th Grade Poems

You are more than what eyes can see

I'm your crazy wand

My hearts love

Love is a bond

Winter Guard En Garde

Lonely Girl

Princess Love

Phantom

Dani a Charming CVS Pharmacist

death of a christian science English teacher

Life:Real or taught

Latino-Americanos: The Children of an Oscuro Pasado

Why love me with a betrayal

Instagram

Pride or love

Life is a poem

Think Spring

Social media

death

My Jiggling boobs

We can not live without you

Stay in your dreams

Hi I say Brightly

Silence is not good in love

Letter From Me To Teen Me