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The Best 11Th Grade Poems

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 |

Keep Right on Writing

1   Would you say that you’d like to write better?
2   Keep writing whether book or love letter.
3   Great writers don’t quit, they write quite a lot.
4   If tempted to stop they simply did not
5   The best of the best, I’d even dare say,
6   Wrote not a few that they just threw away.
7   When eyes of blank pages stare up at you
8   “Quitting makes perfect,” has never been true-
9   ly the more that you practice you’ll find
10 forsooth erelong you shall broaden your mind.
11 The pen is a sword of limitless might;
12 If something is wrong, words can make it write.
13 Words are like arrows that target the soul.
14 They twang, zip, then thump when shot with control;
15 Untrained words injure and never strike true.
16 So religiously write, routinely review
17 For words are the lamp, through darkness lighting.
18 So always, forever just keep right on writing.

8.28.18
Contest: A Litany of Poetic Devices
Sponsors Line Gauthier
Literary Devices by line:
1.  rhetorical question
2.  internal rhyme
3. consonance (t)
4. inversion
5. parallelism (and superlative)
6. litote
7. personification
8. antithesis
9. enjambment
10. archaism
11. metonymy and metaphor
12. pun (homonym)
13. simile 
14. onomatopoeia 
15. dissonance (via harsh consonants and uneven vowels)
16. alliteration
17. hyperbaton and metaphor 
18. pleonasm

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 |

Princess Love

The girls, 
are growing up,
We forgot about that princess love, 
The waiting for men to cover our broken bodies in their poetry love,
We let go of swallowed silent prayers of wanting to feel “pretty” 
We ate their expectations and we vomited up the number of date rape cases. 
So now here I am. 
I’m 16. 

I do not want princess love, 
For I have learnt that more and more girls,
Are handcuffed to their fairy tales,
They lose themselves in Snow Whites Instagram mirror of beauty,
Until everyone is comparing themselves to the next “pretty”,
Until no one can even describe what it feels like to have joy or to experience happiness. 

I am afraid of love,
Because of the only boyfriend I ever had,
Because he liked to take everything he couldn’t have,
All I have left now is broken syllables of a poem that once sang of my happiness,
So now I’m cold?
I’m afraid of cat calls,
And boys who laugh at intelligence,
And rape jokes.

I’ve been taught that love isn’t something I want to have,
Let me rephrase that,
The love that society shows me isn't something I want to have,
No more hiding my interests in fear of boldness,
In fear of the “oh” after initial interest, 

I mean I’m tired of blaming myself for not being enough to satisfy Prince Charming,
Because I don’t have a pretty dress,

I have chosen no love,
Because honestly I am afraid that once people find that I’m hard to love,
That they will leave me,
Stranded on the steps of a palace,
Or broken down on a concrete pathway, 
Or in the school bathroom after a sexual assault,
Or at the police station repeating myself over and over and over again,
because no seems to believe me. 
But I will have to pick myself up 
You know?

A teacher once told me 
That guys don’t like short hair. 
It was the day after I chopped off all my hair. 
Now I know love means pretty. 
But my hair is still short. 
I don’t want princess love,
Cause I don’t need a prince to love me. 
Cause Disney also taught me. 
That a frog works just fine too.

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

Lonely Girl

It twas a dark and disconsolate night
I walked lonesome alleys, as I clenched myself tight
It was very cold that night, there was no single light
The ground shivered my feet, I’m in a need of heat.
I’ve ran away from my master
He can no longer hurt me, my life is in a disaster
I have nowhere to run, I have nowhere to hide
My life is filled with lies
Thoughts run through my head, I began to dread
My mother - She lied to me
She said I was safe and that she would come back
What she said to me was not a fact
I’ve been stuck with a stranger, that I do not know
A stranger that I do not wish to call a friend nor a foe.
Oh my, where can I go?
I’ve been stuck in hole and so has my soul.
How can someone be so low?
I have reached age twenty-three,
But yet I do not wish to breathe,
I wish to die alone.
I have nothing, but bruises to show.
My mother and this Man, hath ruined me
All I wanted was a family.
I am age twenty-three, there is a bump beneath these rags I wear,
Soon to turn into something I will not care for.
It belongs to the stranger, the man who put me in danger
I have a plan, that will end it all
Something that will allow me to hang tall,
I will end mine and also my embryo’s life.

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

I'm your crazy wand

Forgetting you I'm not going anywhere now.
How will I stay away from you I'm your crazy wand.
Never mind,I am the only place of
my heart away from this heart.
Forgetting you I'm not going anywhere now.

Speak or say no,but I will still speak.
I have live for you only how I left you.
In the whole world, i am only wishing you.
Do not ever tell me,you forget me,
I'm not going to listen.
Forgetting you I'm not going anywhere now.
How will I stay away from you I'm your crazy wand.

Never speak that moon will ever be
separated from the moonlight.
Is anyone ever happy to lose his life?
This is what I want for you,your loved once.
Never mind, I'm the only place of
my heart away from this heart.
Forgetting you I'm not going anywhere now.
How will I stay away from you I'm your crazy wand.

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

My hearts love

My wish is that you are my heart's love.
My happiness is only from your happiness.
More than you and no longer I love someone.
My wish is that you are my heart's love.

I love you,I will go from this world.
As long as i will live sweetheart,I will love you.
My life is all over now,it is only for you.
My wish is that you are my heart's love.

My heart is my pain,you know it.
The thread of my breath's necklace is tangent to you.
Relationship is like this,whose rupture is not approved by 
I will settle for you in my breath.
Without you,I will live a moment now.
I have strong sense of you.
You are my comfort to the eyes.
I have won by seeing you and this is my job now.
No more than you and no one is my wish now.
My wish is that you are my heart's love.

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

The Rain Is Here

The chill in the breeze 
Has got something Different 
Each flower , each tree
Randomly dancing to their zeal
And then our memories 
Inside my head are all alive
Now the sky is turning grey 
Innocent? yes! I wanted to stay
Storms are approaching fleeting,fast
Hardly will they ever last 
Even though I can't feel you
Rain always drags the past
Ecmnesia after you is all I got

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 |

Phantom

In the deepest corner of the room
a shadowy figure lurks in the blackness
still as a soldier,
curiously I creep toward it, 
close enough to feel its breath I gently reach out, 
jerking back instantly it doesn't move its feet
Phantoms aren't real I try to convince myself,
transparent and silent as ghosts are
sluggish and light moving,
suddenly its vanished
as all ghostly figures eventually do

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

Love is a bond

Love is the confluence of two peoples,
this bond is of two relationships,
one is way and one is the destination.
One of the hearts of both heart beats.
This is the bond of all their births.
Love is the confluence of two peoples,

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

Winter Guard En Garde

 melting snowball 

Fall-out started with the spring-break competition;
Errors were made as team effort slid downhill.
Then when name-calling sparked a partition,
esprit-de-corps broke to a stand-still.

“Butterfingers!” the dig of choice,
sabers, rifles drop in flight.
“Cretin!” answers a voice,
winter guard backbite.

“Bozo, Clod, Clown”
teenage jeers, 
meltdown - 
tears.



written March 20, 2018
Line Gauthier's  A Melting Snowball contest

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

The Dreaded Language


Pi
What statistics?
What trigonometry?
Geometry bamboozles me
The math language completely shuts me down.
Pre-algebra breaks my brain waves.
Please let’s not speak of these
Crazy math terms.
Pi

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

I Would Never Abandon Myself

As a child I would never have abandoned 
my family, my friends, or my dolls.
As a pre-teen the dolls were put away with reluctance,
because I never wanted them to feel abandoned.

As a teenager I realized I had to abandon 
some friends, in order to save myself.
It was not easy, but it was either them or me, 
and people become sad when they abandon themselves.

As a woman in love, and a young mother,
I decided to abandon all things that did not aid in my goals.
I abandoned people, places, and things right and left,
in order to be the happiest me I could be.

I am an expert at abandoning things now.  I abandon everything 
and everyone who takes away from me.
Because I never want to abandon myself.

Written July 15, 2018
Entered: Contest Abandon 2
Sponsored by Brenda Chiri

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

The Dreaded Doctor's Visit

Other people are chatting.
I am not.
Some are pretending to read.
Ha!  As if you could
In a doctor’s office.

I am sixty-six, and still do not want to be here.
Because of my fear of a prick, a shot, an I.V.
It takes a long time to get over these things.
I am not over them yet.

They call my name.  Crap!
I just sat down, take someone else
I silently think.
But partly glad that I will not have to dread it any longer.

Everyone else looks up, relieved it is me being led and not them.
A few smile along my route.
I want to stick out my tongue, but I catch myself.
I head in to meet my doom, and face the lying weight machine.


I see the doctor. She mentions pills.
Then she remembers my stomach problems, so she cheerfully says
“It’s a shot for you!”

Ouch!
Oh, you’re a bleeder, the nurse says. “A big bleeder.”
Come here, and let me show you, I think.

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

Designated Driver


Old age often feels like a waiting game
for life’s end is stealthily approaching.
And your allotted years have all but came
now the shadow of death is encroaching.

You start to look back rather than ahead
memories outweigh a new tomorrow.
And when the rope of hope is but a thread
you view your past with envy and sorrow.

Strangely enough you don't feel old inside
yet every day time keeps ticking away.
And unruly tongues are hard to abide 
for the young won’t heed what old people say.

When death is life's designated driver
the pending crash ensures no survivor.




(Sonnet)
Sept. 22, 2018

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

Bong Bitty Bong Bitty Bong Bitty Bay

Bong bitty bong bitty bong bitty bay
You are the bottom thought for me every day.

Hong hitty hong hitty hong hitty hay
I am the top dog, and I simply don’t play.

Zong zitty zong zitty zong zitty zay
You’re a spectacular example of dirt within hay

Mong mitty mong mitty mong mitty may
If I know you’re going to be there, I’ll just stay away

Dong ditty dong ditty dong ditty day
Our friends no longer like you. They’ll hold you at bay.

Fong fitty fong fitty fong fitty fay
I won all of them in the divorce, so please go away, Ray.

Submitted to Nick Trim’s 8 Mile High Contest
June 19, 2018

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

They Said

She is odd, they said.
She won’t talk to you.
She is stuck up.
She is mean.

He did not believe them.
Them who had lied about him also when he was the new kid.
He sat with her during lunch.
They laughed like hyenas; he found her refreshing and delightful.

After school they cornered him.
They accused him of being disloyal to the pack.
They were angry that he did not take their word about her awfulness.
They were incensed that he had a mind of his own.

She is depressed, they said. She is a downer. She is bad news. Stay away or we will not be your friends.

He saw her sad, and soothed it.
He understood her downs, she had reasons for them.
So he sat with her at lunch, and he walked her home, and they used their sense of humors and they laughed.
Being with her felt wonderful, being with her was cathartic, being with her was love.

They were angry now. They surrounded him with baseball bats and bully clubs.
If you insist on following your heart and being nice to her, we will hit you, they told him.
We will hurt you.
We will kill you.
She is different, they told him. She is odd. One of them spit on his arm to prove his rightness.

He threw back his head and laughed at them and he did not stop laughing. He laughed for hours.
Their faces were mad. They were upset. They were so angry. They ran away, because they could not change him.
She came out of her house, ready to be walked to school.
What was that? She asked him.
A bunch of silliness, he told her.

They got married, and made friends all around the world.
Friends who liked them for having a sense of humor and minds of their own
And they lived happily ever after.

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

Welcome To Winter

Two pairs of pants, three pairs of socks, a pair of boots.
Welcome to winter.
Snow pants make me look fat, I will not wear them.
My hoodie is not warm enough; my face is all red.
Welcome to winter.
Where is the other mitten? My favorite pair. One is gone.
Lost out of my pocket. 
Welcome to winter.
Everyone is coughing.  Flu is rampant. People are mean.
Welcome to winter.

Children are laughing. Catching snowflakes with their faces.
Licking their lips sore. Chapping their faces.
Welcome to winter.
Children are sledding, bumping into each other, rolling like puppies,
Smashing their fingers, and laughing.
Losing their mittens, and not noticing.
Their hands are all red.
They refuse to go in.
They have never had so much fun!
Delight is on their faces.
Welcome to winter.

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

I-Phones

I-phones have changed our paradigms
People no longer
Have to talk to each other
Or
Need to form relationships with human beings.
Evolving into an electronic virtual culture,
Suddenly we live in a surreal, imitation world, and we are avatars, not humans.

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

Winter in The Meadow

She floated down into the meadow quietly, silencing the air, by stilling it.
The surrounding oak trees smiled, recognizing her power, not fully
understanding her majesty, but appreciating it and loving her
capableness.

As she twirled her skirt, which barely touched the ground, the earth began
changing from brown to the most marvelous white.  Winter threw her hands
in the air, sending icy fluffs of cotton into the atmosphere.  They floated down
softly and quietly at first, but as they fell, they got bigger, and wetter, and
they were no longer dainty.

When winter was finished, the landscape had magically transformed from a
dried dead-looking thing to a gorgeous, alive blanket of pure white
beauty, that seemed to be twinkling with diamond crystals.  

She smiled. It was time for her nap. She laid down on the meadow, so gently
she did not put a dent in the snow, instead, she waited, for the first footsteps
which would not come until morning.

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

I Smell So Good

They scoop me up, I smell so good.  Others come, and stand in line. People shifting, impatiently.
They pay money, as cash registers sing happily.  Wide pleasing smiles appear when they reach for us.
One starts eating me before she returns to her seat.  She sets me on the ground in a stall for a bit.
Picks me up, washes her hands, and dives in again. Her hands are cooler now, but I do not care.
It feels wonderful to be appreciated. My smell has permeated the theater now. Others are running
Toward the cash registers, eager to give their money, so they can begin diving into my relatives.
I hear my brothers and sisters laughing as they happily crack and pop. My dad smells so tasty!
My mother is smacking in delight as someone gulps her down.  Ugh! A kernel one says.
I watch him spit my kernel cousin Jake onto the carpet. I feel sad as I watch a dustpan get him.
It would feel terrible, rejected like that.  My family is a proud bunch. We are excited that
We are more popular than the stars and shows that brought this crowd here in the first place.

Details | 11Th Grade Poem |

The Rain Drop

Chances of precipitation zero. Chances of dew, zero. Chances of a raindrop, one hundred percent, as she was spotted in the sky about six seconds ago. If Adrianna lands here, how will we collect her? Who gets access? Where was the sighting? How accurate is the intel?

The ants had already dug a pond in their anthill in case she landed there. The beetles came around and tried to suck up to the ants, but they briskly shooed them off. The faeries were the tellers of the tale; the sighting, after all, had come from their high-flying ally, eagle. The faeries, like the elves, and nymphs, were pretending they might share Adrianna, knowing full well they would rather fight to the death than share her.

The owls had set mint cups out on their oak leaf branches, hoping she would land in one of them. The entire village was abuzz. No one had seen a raindrop here for twenty-two minutes, four hours, and sixty-three days.

One tiny raindrop – named Raindrop Adrianna was spotted in the sky, six seconds ago. Suddenly brothers and sisters were fighting, wrens and robins were not speaking. Faeries and nymphs were lying. It was not unusual for one little harmless raindrop to start world war six, which is why we always name our raindrops after women. The eagles and the owls had not been speaking for decades, over the last raindrop.

Raindrop Adrianna had turned the whole world upside down. She probably had no idea what turmoil she had started, as she had already landed on a grateful red tulip, on the other side of the village. We told Adrianna’s story until World War Seven, which was started by Raindrop Rhoda.

Written 11-16-2018
Contest: The Raindrop Poetry Contest Sponsor: Craig Cornish

Best 11Th Grade Poems | Poetry

The Best 11Th Grade Poems

What Is Stopping You

A Burst Of Orange

Latino-Americanos: The Children of an Oscuro Pasado

Keep Right on Writing

You are more than what eyes can see

Princess Love

Lonely Girl

I'm your crazy wand

My hearts love

The Rain Is Here

Dani a Charming CVS Pharmacist

Phantom

Love is a bond

Winter Guard En Garde

The Dreaded Language

I Would Never Abandon Myself

The Dreaded Doctor's Visit

Designated Driver

Bong Bitty Bong Bitty Bong Bitty Bay

They Said

Welcome To Winter

I-Phones

Winter in The Meadow

I Smell So Good

The Rain Drop