Best Teenage Poems
For the lark she sings in her morning song,
That brightens up my day.
The pitter patter of tiny drops,
Clouds fill the sky with grey.
The dampened ground, that familiar smell,
Now quenched refreshed anew.
Brings forth forgotten memories,
Of a time that I once new.
Like grains of sand they ebb and flow,
Those minutes of the day.
In lines of endless moments,
That brought forth that child at play.
For is this just like déjà vu
For some time I’ve been alone.
Now standing here now humble,
To all these things I’ve known.
With gentle face a youthful pose,
As we danced the night away,
A tender touch a knowing gaze,
No need for words to say.
For what is love but a feeling?
As hearts melt into one.
With the blessings of good fortune,
Now Care free and full of fun.
For they say that hopes eternal,
And all things come to he who waits.
Or is that for other people,
For nothing seems that straight.
Given in reflected thought,
To those oh so special years.
Brought back in just a heart beat,
I wipe away the tears.
© N windle
I am a girl,
Everyone sees it.
I graciously accept the label,
Twirling in a girls spool,
And playing it up for others.
Sometimes I feel an itch,
In a place I can't reach.
There are times when it quells,
When my voice cracks,
And I am somewhere else.
Where my hair is to my neck,
And my voice bellows.
But I am brought back to reality,
Because I am a girl.
He comes out again,
Stilling me when girls are asked to line up,
Twitching when a teacher asks for a 'strong boy',
I hold him back,
A slap on the wrist,
A prisoner in a cell.
But in the deepest of my thoughts,
I am free,
Completely and utterly.
He is with me,
Unchained,
But it ends every morning I wake.
I step out of the shower,
Hair cascading down,
As I stand in front of my reflective captor,
A deep rumbling comes from inside me,
And he bubbles up to the surface,
Itching and scraping at my soul.
I claw at the confines of my chest,
And he bursts out like dynamite,
Sparks flowing,
Tingles of electricity follow my nerves,
And I truly see him,
Staring back at me,
He smiles softly and my eyes open wide,
The words linger on the tip of my tongue,
But they stay rooted in my brain,
As him and I both realize,
I am a boy.
It's OK
that you don't have much to say
Your words are kept on paper
For your eyes to savor
It doesn't matter that your best friends
Are Agatha Christie and Emily Dickinson
It's alright that the phone doesn't ring
With silly chatter over pointless things
Don't be concerned with the prom princess
With perfect skin who looks flawless
You are not one of the sheep that blends in
You are more alive in your own skin
Of books, and writing, and libraries
They can keep their ugly judgments and drunk parties
You don't need doctors and therapy
Because you prefer anonymity
To toxic high school hypocrisy
You put yourself before contests
To see which boy likes which girl the best
You like yourself for who you are
Proud to be unpopular
Proud of your poetry, proud of your rhymes
Your unvalued hobby, your peculiar pastime
You like reading the thesaurus for fun!
Never apologize, never be done
You know
your old soul
Don't fall into the female curse
Of self-sacrifice, always love yourself, first.
7/17/18
My biggest fear is to be alone with my thoughts,
To be surrounded by the past,
Swallowed whole by my mistakes,
Stalked by what could've been, what should've been,
And being eaten alive by the insecurity I mask day by day,
I guess it can be said that my biggest fear is myself,
The person that hides behind the red lips, the soft brown eyes,
Who smiles when internally she cries for help,
The person who is suffocated .
The green-blue marks of the tufuga's* tools run down his thighs
Patterns in shades of deep-ocean-dark and unsealed-road-like lines
Back to his ancestors and forward to his descendants
He is young and good in a way that makes it impossible to imagine he might ever become old
angry...
drunk.
He speaks quietly like the 'shhhhhhh' sound his teachers made when he laughed too loudly as a child
His skin is brown like the soil used to be
and soft,
like it still is,
underneath the white man's concrete.
*Samoan tattooist
Blue Girls
John Crowe Ransom
Styling in your leggings, wildly designed,
Strutting to classes in your modern schools—
While texting. Roll your eyes at those old fools
Who think they're so refined.
Toss back the pink extensions in your hair,
And think no more of SAT's at all.
But plan to meet bff's at the mall
To shop for earrings there.
Make duck-face selfies while guys who watch dream
about your lovely, well-toned flesh so tight.
It will sag some day, bringing no delight—
in spite of firming creams.
You think I don't know beauty, but I do!
I know a woman with a poison tongue
and beady eyes that used to be bright-blue.
She turned heads near and far when she was young
and surely knocked the shine off all of you.
The photos stopped
when you were 10 or 11.
Around that time, you started refusing to
have your pictures taken.
A few candid shots are all I’ve
managed since then.
In them, the look on your face is growing inward,
as a cocoon slowly encloses you in a
translucent mystery,
turning you into a dark silhouette
as you start to construct your
own parallel universe,
in a tug of war with a thousand things
you are just starting to learn the meaning of,
morphing into what the world will know,
what I will, with any luck,
recognize only with squinted eyes
when the cocoon reopens.
For now, I can’t see you.
All I can do is wait.
A Sonnet in
~ Iambic Tetrameter ~
At age eighteen he fled his home
Could barely wait, despised his town
To see the world all on his own
He'd wear a smile, no more to frown
He traveled in a makeshift way
Hitched rides in vans and sneaked on trains
When desperate, he stowed away
At times got drenched by gusts of rain
Two years he spent pursuing dreams
Grew wiser as the time crawled by
Found out that life's nor peach nor cream
For home and hearth, began to sigh...
Came back and knocked on his front door
Discovered that 'twas 'home' no more
Seventeen
Without a word, he became a star in the sky
Without a goodbye, he became a memory in our mind
Seventeen years, he lived his life
Seventeen years, he cared for us all
Days and nights, the sun will shine, and the moon will glow
Weeks and months, birds will sing, then trees will grow
At quiet moments, we will find him in the sky
Looking for his smile, listening to his voice
Seasons after seasons
Years after years
She is sad,
but what else is new.
She is hurt,
well you would be too.
She is dying,
only from what she has done.
She is alone,
because she wants no one.
She is lonely,
because she pushes everyone away.
She is a mess,
because she secretly wants you to stay.
She is judged,
so she hides her face.
She is ignored,
and wishes she could be erased.
She is suicidal,
because she is tired of living.
She is depressed,
because she doesn't think life is worth winning.
She is confused,
because of everyone else.
She is stressed,
because she does it to herself.
She is messed up,
because of her past.
She is misunderstood,
and she hopes that won't last.
She is tired,
but still living.
She is in pain,
but still smiling.
She is screaming,
but stays silent.
She is hurt,
but won't show it.
So the truth behind everything is finally set free,
Because She...
IS ME
"Fragments and crumbs of life, all the little pieces"
John Ruskin, 1853
A scrap of sleep, a lopsided sky
A slip of verse that wandered by
The universe of a minute, an hour's lag
A poem scribbled on the back of a paper bag
Fragmented lyrics of lost words
Coaxed into song by hummingbirds
Where sapphire moons rise at noon
And ivory dawn reddens too soon
But for lonely love of poetry
Cast aside by conformity
Cloistered, salted tears consumed the sea
Drenched in magnanimous misery
Masking shy scars to look the same
Calling pain by prettier names
Peeled pages from the diary
Of the once and future me.
8/29/20
For 'All the Little Pieces' contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
My curfew according to my mom is, “before the sun goes down!”
She never gives me the time to meet with friends and hang around
My dad on the other hand lectures me in Korean
He still doesn’t realize that I literally cannot understand him
He might as well be talking in Japanese and his english is ‘berry weak’
These are the reasons why we don’t really speak
Dinner’s always the same, no taco Tuesday or leftover Monday involved
Every meal is eaten with rice- but one time we had mashed pot- just kidding that’s never happened at all
Brown rice, white rice, skinny rice, fat rice, guess we got some variety there
Mom says, “Be grateful, there are starving children everywhere”
Come to think of it, a family meal at McDonald’s is something we’ve never had
Guess that means all my meals are very sad
Neither parent wants to give me the independence that I need
But I won’t complain for I’m afraid mother will hit me
Like a bird I want to explore the world
But my strict Korean parents clipped my wings- they might be disturbed
So I spend my time visualizing the world through the T.V.
Never had cable cause cable’s ‘not pree’
Netflix is what I got, a blessing I love having
Bob’s Burgers, Parks & Rec, and The Office keep me laughing
My mom finds it annoying, my dad doesn’t get the puns
He’s always asking me how people sitting in an office can make me laugh so much
On another note, high school parties, are wild and pretty cray
I wouldn’t know, I’ve never gotten an invite, but my parents would never let me go anyways
I check the snapchats of my friends, they’re out bowling at 1:35 am
If it weren’t for my parents, then I would be out with them
No matter what I do, my parents just can’t see
That they’re Kim Jong Un and I’m a helpless North Korean trying to break free
TEEN AGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES!!
One day I came home with the flu.
My mother gave me a bowl of stew
All I can say is that the stew was thick like goo.
I still ate it thinking it was chicken stew.
Saturday morning I woke up watching Winnie The Pooh.
Mother made me a sandwich that was hard to chew
In the kitchen I saw 2 strange looking shells
Once I saw them I started getting dizzy spells
Eating turtle soup with out having a clue.
Made my face turn green and blue.
Walked into the living room.
My stomach still felt kind of doom.
My mother was watching the tube and singing along
Singing along to the,"Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles" song!
NOW THAT WAS WRONG!!!!!!
____________________________________________
.
TWO TURTLE DOVES
During Christmas, I always go hunting in the woods
I set out traps to catch me some goods
I caught two turtle in my first trap
Poor little things where full of crap.
I was singing "On the first day of Christmas" on my way back.
All I could think of was my Two Turtle (Doves), snack!
I took them inside and dipped them in water
They had no idea they where soon to be slaughter
My dad told me that turtle soup hits the right spot.
Silly turtles where already in the boiling pot
Looking at the pot one turtles was swimming around
I can't believe in the hot water he didn't even drown
I had to pull him out, and set him on the rebound.
I'll just cook him on my second round.
I am ready to eat my turtle stew.
Praising this soup with an mm mm thank you!
DARN!! Salt and Pepper was the main thing I forgot
Realizing napkins was the only thing I bought
I put the napkins on my lap.
I was about to have me some turtle snap.
I started singing my favorite Christmas song.
Suddenly the "Two Turtle Dove" part did not belong.
Singing softly to my favorite line
Eating the stew didn't feel fine.
""On The Second day of Christmas
CCCCCCCCCCCCCChrrriiissstamms
MMMMMMMMMMMy TRUE LOVVVVEE
Gave to me TWO TURTLE DOVVVVEE
With out having the jolly to sing along.
I had to put the stew to a side and be strong.
(now) THAT WAS WRONG!!!!!
((( HAVING FUN WITH MY OWN TURTLE CONTEST )))
There's four ninja turtles
Cleaning up the streets
Trained in the art of ninja karate-e
They hide down in the sewers
Watching for criminals
Could it be for real or is it April fools
Teenage mutant ninja turtles
Six foot dudes they can hurtle
Teenage Mutant Ninja turtles
Ancient arts in Japanese circles
Leo, Donnie, Mikey and Raph
Quick with their hands
And smart with their mouths
Trained by Splinter their sensei rat
Turtle doves with shells on their backs
Teenage mutant ninja turtles
six foot dudes in Aprils journals
Teenage Mutant Ninja turtles
Ancient arts in Japanese circles
Red, orange, purple and blue
Coloured masks to give you a clue
Fast with their feet and their weapons
Teenage turtles a force to be reckoned
Twin katana’s, Bo' that staff
Nun Chaka's, sai, there first class
Teenage mutant ninja turtles
Six foot dudes at your dispersal
Teenage Mutant Ninja turtles
Ancient arts in Japanese circles
These turtle buddies slip and slide
Still in their teens their skills sky high
Their quick and mean and fast on the scene
Fighting the evil foot clan team
You better believe it, better run fast
These ninja turtles will kick shredders ass
Teenage Mutant Ninja turtles
Round house kicks in reversal
Teenage mutant Ninja turtles
Martial arts in Japanese circles
Cowabunga!! what’s up dude??
I love you guys!! I'm in a digital mood!!
© Copyright K.C.Leake
30th October 2014
All Rights Reserved
Renegades Foreva!
Renegade teenage rage babes
thinkin’ they all grown, all knowin’
when they seedlin’s barely sown
bleedin’ teenage angst with teenage crankst
always rhymin’ and mis-timin’ some poetry-crimin’
mis-mashin', diss-bashin'
word-clashin' song
heard on some half-sappy, sex-happy,
yap-rap, smack-attack vid
made by some brotha who’s just anotha
angry angst-ridden
wannabe gangsta kid
With a street beat
they be hummin’ or singin’ along
repeatin’ the deceit
not knowin’ curse verses
are just plain wrong and mostly maligin’
while grownups in earshot
takin’ all them swearshots
wishin’ them words had sweeter rhymin’
or that kids be more discreet
would take their claptrap,
no-class, crass-crack lyrics
and just tweet ‘em or mime ‘em
But if ‘dults could go back, meet themselves
when they was punk teens
fittin’ into pre-shrunk his or her hunk jeans
listenin’, partyin’ to poppin’ rockin’
unusual musical junk boy band scenes
and lettin’ out star-struck
super-charged
groanal hormonal
no-one-could-understand gland screams
then they’d be amused ya know,
might change their views ya know
cause remind ‘em not so pristine
when child and ‘dult they was in-between
Kids always lookin’ to find
who they are and who they be
imprisoned involuntarily
in their youthful penitentiary
no matter what century they be from you see
So if thinkin’ rap sucks cause
it’s just no-class hurls and low-class slurs
then fire-up that flux capacitor of yours,
head back to yo’ past and meet yo’ younger him or hers
see your own rebelling mis-teen-stakes
then rapping notions you might reshape
or rapping judgments remake
or least maybe now tolerate new-age teenage
rapping outbreaks and in-yo-face ear-quakes
realizin’ that come whateva or wheneva
that all teens now, before an’ where-eva
will evamore and eva be
natural renegades foreva!
© 2014 all rights reserved