Get Your Premium Membership

Best 8Th Grade Poems | Poetry

Below are the all-time best 8Th Grade poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of 8th grade poems written by PoetrySoup members

Search for 8Th Grade poems, articles about 8Th Grade poems, poetry blogs, or anything else 8Th Grade poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.

See Also:

Poems are below...



View all new 8Th Grade Poems

The Best 8Th Grade Poems

Details | 8Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

My Inner Voice



I leave the daily hustle and bustle of a city's cacophony of sound. And go to where the leaves softly rustle in the breeze... and no one else is around. When I'm alone, I find an inner peace that raises my soul to a higher plane. And anxiety's attacks slowly cease free from critical critiques and disdain. Seclusion fuels imagination shaping reality within my mind. And it's a feeling of liberation, unrestricted by rules of any kind. Whenever I seek solitude by choice I hush the whispers of my inner voice. (Sonnet) May 2, 2018 The Beauty of Solitude Line Gauthier


Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2018


Details | 8Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

A Huffle-wink's Nearby



You all know about fire breathing dragons and their obsession for hoarding treasure. But, have you ever heard of Huffle-winks magical creatures that promote pleasure. Invisible, atop of dragonflies they ride the winds of fate, mile after mile. And whenever they encounter a frown they'll try to flip it into a smile. They harness dragonflies to get around for unlike dragons, they haven't learned to fly. But, if suddenly you feel like laughing it's a safe bet, there’s Huffle-winks nearby. In winter when dragonflies disappear they’ll hitch a ride on tumbling snowflakes. And if you’re lucky enough to catch one, it's like winning the lottery sweepstakes. I've never seen one, except in my dreams but, I know in my heart that they are real. And what makes me so sure that they exist is the wonderful way they make me feel. When you’re feeling particularly blue remember there are Huffle-winks around. And they're masters of jocularity, ensuring that smiles and laugher abound. (Quatrain) May 17, 2018


Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2018


Details | 8Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

What Is Stopping You

What is holding you back?
What is stopping you?
What is making you uncomfortable 
about asking?
about wanting?
about dreaming?
about wishing?
about expecting?
about planning?
about setting new goals?
about learning new things?
about figuring out other ways?
about being your most excited self?
about opening yourself up to new opportunities?
New  possibilities? New people? New places? A new job?
Or is it a who?


Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


Details | 8Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Do You Need Some Pixie Dust

Laughing, dancing, having the time of her life,
Faerie Fun went from mushroom house to toadstool cottage,
Spreading joy,
Playing with everyone
In a kind and pleasant way.
There was going to be no sadness
In Faerie Forest today if she could help it.
It is up to me, she said.
I am the catalyst for happiness today.
She ate breakfast with the Nymph family,
And they laughed about silly stuff,
But no people.
She watched Lila Leprechaun’s Lilliput dance,
And she clapped and clapped while
Mama Leprechaun took care of the
Unhappy baby. Baby calm. All is well.
Faerie Fun was soon skipping
Up the walk to the most challenging
House of all.
Change your attitude! She warned herself.
Change your attitude!
Her jaw was clamped tightly shut now, and she 
Was already filled with dread.
Pixie Dust! Her internal voice yelled. NOW!
The sparkly particles surrounded her, and settled down all over her, calming her instantly, and
Changing her attitude from not-so-great to wonderful.
Before she left Grump-Eater’s house, he gave her a long, lingering hug.  No one gets me like you, he said.
Progress at last.
Sometimes it is simply a matter of us changing our attitude.


Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


Details | 8Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Spiritual warfare begins

A sad state our government has become today 
in this awful news that just pushes the boat out further 

As our democracy for one protecting our children 
Why it is even under attack beats me up inside moral grounds 
this should not even be considered under the harshest circumstances 
because it's a humane act to love our little ones bless them with life 
not kill them shows savages craving suffering judgemental fools 

Tells me all that I need to know about corrupt politics 
under an non democratically elected leadership


Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2018


Details | 8Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this 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


Copyright © Jesse Rowe | Year Posted 2018


Details | 8Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

From Now On



From now on, I'll not hide behind a lie or fool around at the bar every night. For part of me dies, when I see you cry and I know what I'm doing...isn't right. I cannot change anything I have done there's no way for me to erase the past. And the time of reckoning has begun the embarrassing questions have been asked. If you want me to, I will walk away every chance you've given me...I've blown. And I know there is nothing I can say if you decide you're better off alone. But, if you still believe we have a chance, from now on...you'll get roses and romance. (Sonnet) May 25, 2018 From Now On Poetry Contest Nayda Ivette Negron


Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2018


Details | 8Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Tethered To The Sun



Sunlight scampers through the green of the trees where the essence of soft shadows slip-slide. And subjected to the whim of each breeze they scurry to find new places to hide. The ground is dappled with patches of light shape shifting into mobile abstract art. And watching them dance is a pure delight for nature knows how to tug at my heart. The effect is a magical display of shifting shadows tethered to the sun. And like a sophisticated ballet they twirl, plié, sauté and spin about as one. Shadow and light flicker in perfect sync on and off, as if nature had to blink. (Sonnet) May 11, 2018 THE ESSENCE OF SOFT SHADOWS - Poetry Contest John lawless


Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2018


Details | 8Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Angels Among Us



When a soul is forced to beg on the streets their hurt runs deeper than most people see. And before you label them all deadbeats you should ask yourself...what if that were me? But for the grace of God...that could be you respond from your heart...dispense some pity. And consider what they’re going through panhandling on the streets of the city. You cannot picture yourself in their shoes for you wear blinders in your comfort zone. And muttering, “you’ll just waste it on booze” are hurtful words, that degrade with their tone. Charity’s such a noble endeavor you perpetuate kindness...when you give. And that good karma can last forever it's a matter of how you choose to live. It's hard to imagine how you would feel, if an angel took the time to help you. And you got to see miracles are real though angels among us...are rare and few. (Quatrain) June 3, 2018


Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2018


Details | 8Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Relatives Re-inact A Romantic Reconciliation

Oh, yes, Darling! Please meet me up the street, in fifteen minutes, right past the old tan house with that porch, bamboo.
We need to talk about things, you and me, without your mean relatives, and that includes your cousin Ted Stew.
I’d gladly trade this car for a completely untarnished marriage certificate, cleaned out of the day-old flu.
But, fiance’, dearest, you have yet to show me your love nest, your side honey, or your super-secret tattoo,
So now that you realize I might cost you money, you love me forever, and think you can let go and forget the Queen of Vooody-Voo- Doo?
Sure, Sweet Darling. Being pre reasonable, I would certainly like to review our marriageable status, and begin trusting you anew.
Of course, we had better hurry, so we get this trust thing sorted, and my family decides to re-include you,
I do not think any love-you-forever ceremony, fancy hall, or wedding vows I will seriously pursue.
If you decide to take the challenge, there on the steps wearing their juiciest smiles, are my mother, Grandma Kell and cousin Lou.
Sure, they do all have guns, permits, frying pans, and razors. Confidentially, they’re in a hum dinger of a stew about you too.
What more can I do, Sugar Bear?  I’ve led you right to them, right up these pretty blue and white steps, and frankly, honey, it’s the best thing I could ever do.
So saying, I guess all my relatives are ready to talk and slap and pinch and punch, and fight and scrap, and kick, because they’re sort of mad you made me so blue.
Bye, Sweetie. I’m off for the weekend with my new honey, Rick, a gentle, kind, God-fearing man, who doesn’t want to stick around to see what they’re going to do.




Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


Details | 8Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

A Few Things To Rant About



When is a lie an alternative truth? Why are parking spaces so tight? Do subway riders know deodorant exists? Why do jaywalkers ignore red lights, and children never wash their hands before they eat? Who decided to spell doubt with a "b"? Why have twenty check outs and only two cashiers? Why are there no cops around when you need one? Why are push doors always pull at the store? So many little things that never annoyed me before! A few more things to add to my list, nobody told me life would be as hard as this there's no washroom around when you need to piss tips are automatically added to the cost of a meal and the mailman won't bring parcels to your apartment door. I know I've been ranting, but there’s so much more, roads that never get plowed people who pay for groceries by check double parking on a main street and oh, what about coffee that’s too hot to drink? (Verse) May 5, 2018 A Rant - Poetry Contest Shadow Hamilton


Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2018


Details | 8Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this 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


Copyright © Harshit Rai | Year Posted 2018


Details | 8Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Say it

You knew
He liked you,
He expressed
But never said.

On social media
He followed,
Every picture was saved
that you upload.

He practiced a lot
for final meet,
So, that he could make you listen
his heart beat.

He trapped by his own
stupid dual thoughts,
Risk of loosing you as a friend
motivated him, not to propose.

Unspoken words,
would be better to say,
Otherwise, it will be,
too late........


Copyright © Trittya Yelane | Year Posted 2018


Details | 8Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

The Last Show

The stage was so spectacular I had to wear my glasses.
They only let a handful in with extraordinary passes;
written in a scripted font and lined with foiled gold,
for those of us who had one, they were something to behold.

The gullible sat waiting for the buffoonery to start;
the ratings in the papers were completely off the chart.
Some had heard of wonder, that it cured them of depression;
many left in disbelief; it made quite an impression.

The crowd began to stir with a ubiquitous roar of chatter,
every person in the house was pondering the matter,
when suddenly the room went dark and everyone was still.
With widened eyes and racing heart, I hoped it'd fit the bill.

A man appeared larger than life amid a frightening scene,
his head was framed in rising flames that billowed smokey green.
He shouted at the crowd and we all shuddered as he glared,
he asked a volunteer to approach if any of us dared.

A dreadful fright took hold of us as we all sat there in fear,
my spine seemed to be paralyzed while others shed a tear.
The air became uncomfortable as the man began to rage,
and that is when a young girl stood and walked toward the stage.

The crowd let out a gasp as she climbed the center stairs.
We hoped that she would stop as we stayed glued to our chairs.
She stood before the giant man who said with a deep voice:
"Who sent you to me?" and she replied, "I come to you by choice."

While several of us fainted, the man became perplexed.
He seemed to lose control and suddenly was vexed.
This wasn't what he planned and the show was off the script,
he stuttered and he stammered as the situation flipped.

"How dare you show me disrespect!" he said through smokey haze,
but the young girl stood in bold defiance of his fiery blaze.
She spoke to him with empathy and stared with caring eyes,
"I think this front you've shown to us is nothing more than lies."

He couldn't think of what to say, she'd called him on his bluff,
the tension cracking through the room was now more than enough;
the man let out a tired gasp as the smoke and flame went out,
he softened up his voice with no more reason left to shout.

"You're right," he said in solemn tones,"You've seen through my disguise,
I've never had this happen though I've had so many tries."
He turned to the astounded crowd and said "I'm from Topeka"
and ended the last show he did by shouting out "Eureka!"

Written: 05.17.18
Joined: 05.17.18
The first poem submitted: This one - The Last Show


Copyright © Cary Snowden | Year Posted 2018


Details | 8Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

My Bio Poem from Caren

Caren
Creative, Empathetic, Respectful, Helpful
Wife of Joe, mother of Angela, Tracy, and Susie, 
Mother-in-law of Josh and Andy,
Grandma of Emily, Cali, Molly, Tony, Jack, Josie, Lucy, Daisy, Max and Johnny.
Lover of children, dogs, and family.
Who feels joy, excitement, and amused.
Who needs people, work, and love.
Who gives happiness, soft words, and tender touches.
Who fears violence, anger, and rage.
Who would like to see the world assimilate as one.
Resident of Kansas
Krutsinger



Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


Details | 8Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

The F Poem

Five 
Fancy
Fleshy
Foxy
Friends
Followed
Feather-like
Finery
For
Fun-filled,
Flashy
Farfetched
Floppy
Flip-flops
Forever
Flowered.



Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


Details | 8Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this 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


Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


Details | 8Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

A Young Bully Named

There once was a bully named Jim.
He made people cry on a whim.
He was big, bad and mean
And had a name-calling machine,
because he was not very smart, this man, Jim.

There once was a bully named Thad.
He called names and pulled hair, when mad.
We made him our pal,
And he said, "you guys are a wow!"
And he changed his whole attitude and was glad.


There once was a bully named Day.
He did everything to keep people away.
We ignored his bad side,
which he soon learned to hide.
Our new friend, who now liked to play.


Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


Details | 8Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Hope



Humans need hope to help them cope

heeding its call for give and take.

Heartfelt vows spin words into rope

having found fragile bindings break.

Half truths leave lovers hurt and numb

harbingers of heartaches to come,

however...love’s fueled by hope.


(Pleiades)


Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2018


Details | 8Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Proverbial Monoku

Moderation asks us to let go of the ropes and let God be God.

8/31/18

Proverbs 30:8b-9
"...give me neither poverty nor riches; feed me with food convenient for me:  Lest I be full, and deny thee, and say, Who is the Lord? or lest I be poor, and steal, and take the name of my God in vain."

Proverbial Monoku by  Carol Connell


Copyright © Reason A. Poteet | Year Posted 2018


Details | 8Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Thwarting the Bullies

Shelly said that Darlene said that
Tina said that you are an ignorant fool.
So?
Jinny said that Zinna was rolling her eyes at you.
Farina said you have cooties.
So?
Do you want to hear what Allie said about you?
No, thanks.
Minnie said….
“I don’t want to hear it,” I tell her, skipping away.
“You are a poppie butt!” she yells after me.
Thank you, I yell back.
“You are CRAZY!” she hollers, angry now.
“THANK YOU!” I yell louder.
“They were talking trash about you,” my friend tells me.
Wait a second. This is my friend?
“Are you going to talk to them about it?”
No.
Are you going to fight them?
I throw back my head and laugh.
Once I mastered the skip away, the stay away and the thank you
Bullies had no power over me.
They started bothering others.
I try to teach my friends
Bullies will leave you alone
If they don’t think you are getting mad or sad.
Being so danged light skinned .
I had a terrible time mastering
Those telling pink cheeks.
I had to practice with
Trusted friends,
By letting them calling
Me names and practicing
My strategies.
The Keep Away.
The Skip Away.
The Thank You.
Believe me,
I now have it right.
No one bothers
Me now.
It’s simply
No
Damned 
Fun.


Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


Details | 8Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Throwing Stones

Our distant cousin murders the English language every single time she trills.
WOYt is white, and Blah is black, and her long A’s can barely maneuver these hills.
AmbyEance means ambulance, and her R’s are a pure musician’s nemesis.  
Uh-oh, here she comes, hiding behind a language couple, and she’s fully dressed.
Has she seen us? This cousin who has no idea that she’s a murderess through and through?
Oh, hi darling. We’d invite you to stay, but there’s only room in this restaurant for me and him, and these other two. 



Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


Details | 8Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

My heart, my mind, my truth and my find

Sloths, the slowest creature
slowest mind
slowest feature
as you sit upon that bleacher
waiting for a simple teacher
you feel something is missing 
yet nothing is missing
you want something to be missing 
to find something fitting 
this is like a record
always repeating
life is slowly leaving 
hearts barely beating 
the flock is slowly fleating
im barely sleeping 

how can you say something is there 
wheh nothing is really there
you say when you look back something is there
yet when i turn around nothing seems to be there

your heart is empty
because you left it 
on the stairs 
back at home 
its all alone

the heart is bleeding
because the bullet thats fully stuck
inside this heart that is stuck
in the little crack thats pulling it back

its funny 
how the world turns sunny
when the heart has a frown 
cause someone stole its voice and its smile

now this heart is all alone
cause no one will hold
this heart that is crying
simple becuase it is dieing

its all alone 
inside its home
where it was left
simply because it broke

that simple heart 

is yet to be discovered 
as it hides under the covers 
with its new found lover
yet now its lover leaves from under the covers
leaving this heartbroken lover

if you can see this simple heart 
then you are a magician
cause it was broken from the very start
you gont know what this heart has been through
you dont have a single clue
you all just hide from the truth
yet wonder who this heart belongs to
the girl the gave up on it

simple because she couldnt deal it
it broke her from the very start
so she gave it away so she wouldnt feel it 
but now she has no one to hold
because of this shes really bold
to get attention just to feel whole 
her heart was her everthing
it made her who she was

yet now shes different
and we all know the cause 



Copyright © Anonymous Girl | Year Posted 2018


Details | 8Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

She Is Taking My Friends Away

She is taking all my friends away.
Something I commonly hear.
Daily.

And it is weird but
As soon as it happens
The victim wants no other friend
But that one.

Crazy?
Yes,
But so
Third grade!


Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


Details | 8Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Death's Game

Death’s Game

I take your hand
You hold onto to mine
As our week comes to and end
I thought you’d be fine
But in the wake of death
No one is safe
One small call
And it causes us to shake
You lay there
Not able to talk
You skin is pale
You eyes are too
But I still say my final goodbye
And I give my last hug to you
My family is frantic
Your wife is insane
But that’s just how death
Plays the game


Copyright © Cassidy June | Year Posted 2018