Thursday, October 25, 2007

What if you slept? - Samuel Taylor Coleridge (Submitted by Erica Alfonzetti)

What if you slept?
and what if in your sleep you dreamed?
and what if in your dream you went to heaven
and there plucked a strange and beautiful flower?
and what if, when you wake, you had the flower idea?

The Dead - Billy Collins (Submitted by Kayla DePerno)

The dead are always looking down on us,
they say,
while were are putting on our shoes or making a sandwich,
they are looking down through the glass-bottom boats,
of heaven as they row themselves slowly through eternity.
They watch the tops of our heads moving below on earth,
And when we lie down in a field or on a couch,
Drugged perhaps by the hum of a warm afternoon,
They think we are looking back at them
which makes them lift their oars and fall silent and wait,
like parents,
for us to close our eyes.

The Cold Within - Unknown (Submitted by Katie Bottge)

Six humans trapped by happenstance
In black and bitter cold
Each one possessed a stick of wood,
Or so the story's told.

Their dying fire in need of logs,
The first man held his back,
For on the faces around the fire
He noticed one was black.

The next man looking cross the way
Saw not one of his church,
He couldn't bring himself to give
The fire his stick of birch.

The third one sat in tattered clothes
His coat he gave a hitch,
Why should his log be put to use
To warm the idle rich?

The rich sat back and thought
Of the wealth he had in store,
And how to keep what he had earned
From the lazy, shiftless poor.

The black man's face bespoke revenge
As the fire passed from his sight,
For all he saw in his stick of wood
Was a chance to spite the white.

And the last man of this forlorn group
Did naught except for gain,
Giving only to those who gave
Was how he played the game.

The logs held tight in Death's still hands
Was proof of human sin.
They didn't die from the cold without.
They died from the cold within.

The Magic Treasure Chest - Hellon (Submitted by Stephanie Sommer)

Me and my sister Kate
pretend that we're asleep
When mummy kisses and tucks us in
daddy coming back for one last peek. last...phew!
they finally close the door
We jump quickly out of bed
tip-toeing across the floor.

To the magic treasure chest
where toys come alive at night
Soldiers marching in a row
whoopee!...we cry in delight.

Dolls hold little tea parties
cars drive by themselves
books mysteriously jump down
from their place upon the shelf.

Lions roar, hyenas laugh
a monkey swings around
We listen in amazement
to these jungle sounds.

Then it's back to bed for us
another night with our magic chest
Mum and dad come back in the morning
wondering who could have made this mess.

Javier Rafael Desosa - Melissa See (Submitted by melissa See)

I'm alone now.
"What else is new?"
I asked the empty room.

"Nada." I told myself.
My family left me.
We all came from Puerto Rico;
Together like patches on a quilt;
Only to fade away like photographs deprived of light...slowly.
That was almost three years ago.

The patches split apart;
Being thrown away at different points in time;
Until now.
I'm the only Desosa left for miles.

I started to count on family; of another kind.
Buyers and dealers.
Suppliers and demanders.
Bryce and Eryn.

Eryn. The girl who gave me her last $50;
Just for a taste of crystal.
The pitiful, little baby she was...and the damaged swan she was becoming.

Bryce. The boy who became so much more than a buyer;
He was so much more than a friend; even.
He was my brother.
I never told him that...I never told Eryn she was a swan either.
I loved them both.
And I still do.
But they're gone now.

I settled myself on to the old couch as slowly as possible...
Just to hear the springs groan like an old last time;
As the poison that won the war in the sky came down to meet me and find its way
through my veins.

Death came quickly
I fell back even deeper in to the couch;
Thinking it could swallow me up if it wanted to.
I'd welcome it. E'd deserve it.
It would save America an autopsy.

Teen Poem - Allishia M. Delacruz (Submitted by Stephanie Cardante)

I woke up to a day I didn't expect, to find my dad had already left.
I had to call him and tell him it was my birthday, he said 'thought it was on Monday.'
I talked all day on the phone, but in reality I still felt alone.
All my life I wished and prayed to be with my dad on my birthday.
He said he'd be home at 12.
I didn't think he meant 12 at night, and my birthday was gone and out of sight.
Not a card, not a cake, just the feeling of being alone, all day at home.
I guess wishes sometimes don't come true,
but I'll always remember on that day I wasn't with you...

Thursday, October 18, 2007

The Raven (excerpt) - Edgar Allan Poe (Submitted by Veronica Acker)

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,"

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you" - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

If I should learn, in some quite casual way - Sonnet V - Edna St. Vincent Millay (Submitted by Robbie Gewirtz)

If I should learn, in some quite casual way,
That you were gone, not to return again --
Read from the back-page of a paper, say,
Held by a neighbor in a subway train,
How at the corner of this avenue
And such a street (so are the papers filled)
A hurrying man -- who happened to be you --
At noon to-day had happened to be killed,
I should not cry aloud -- I could not cry
Aloud, or wring my hands in such a place --
I should but watch the station lights rush by
With a more careful interest on my face,
Or raise my eyes and read with greater care
Where to store furs and how to treat the hair.

Now Winter Nights Enlarge - Thomas Campion (Submitted by Amanda Orgoch)

Now winter nights enlarge
This number of their hours;
And clouds their storms discharge
Upon the airy towers.
Let now the chimneys blaze
And cups o'erflow with wine,
Let well-tuned words amaze
With harmony divine.
Now yellow waxen lights
Shall wait on honey love
While youthful revels, masques, and courtly sights
Sleep's leaden spells remove.

This time doth well dispense
With lovers' long discourse;
Much speech hath some defense,
Though beauty no remorse.
All do not all things well:
Some measures comely tread,
Some knotted riddles tell,
Some poems smoothly read.
The summer hath his joys,
And winter his delights;
Though love and all his pleasures are but toys
They shorten tedious nights.

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

When Ure Hero Falls - Tupac Shakur (Submitted by Nick Neuner)

when your hero falls from grade
all fiary tales r uncovered
myths exposed and pain magnified
the greatest pain discovered
u taught me 2 be strong
but im confused 2 c u so weak
u said never 2 give up
and it hurts 2 c u welcome defeat
when ure hero falls so do the stars
and so does the perception of tomorrow
without my hero there is only
me alone 2 deal with my sorrow
your heart ceases 2 work
and your soul is not happy at all
what r u expected 2 do
when ure only hero falls

Coffee Lovers - Aindreas Brennan (Submitted by Heather Cuzzi)

He smiles to himself,
As he thinks of her,
Sitting alone in her kitchen,
Sipping coffee.
She thinks of him too,
But little does he know it.
Both pass each other every day,
Without passing on the knowledge,
Of their inwardly turned love.
Time and time again it happens,
For who has the courage to say it first,
Or do they just enjoy,
Their secret love affair.

Did you know? - Mary E. Rose (Submitted by Danielle Yarusso)

Did you see what you did?
I did.
Even if you didn't.
You told me.
Not with words, cheap and meaningless,
But with your eyes.
Your arms. Your heart.
I heard your soul whisper to mine
In that subtle way that all souls do.
I love you, with everything in me,
I love you.
Then I wondered
Can you see me
Like I see you?

Poetry is - Anonymous CE student (Submitted by Maggie Herndon)

Poetry is
Like falling in love
When you tumble into a poem
You just can't seem to get up
You want to stay in that moment for all of time
You want to be there with him
Like rhythm and rhyme

As the world changes
From the dark to light
The sunset
The moon becomes your only source of light
You wish he was there by your side
Like the waves about to hit the shore
Your hearts collide
Whether you are a disaster becoming a catastrophe
He will always be your life your love your poetry

Just A Simple Tree - Billy Rob (Submitted by Richie Grasso)

When fall strokes its brush upon them, the leaves begin to die,
to make sure the tree can stay alive, each must say goodbye.
This coat of colors comforts the tree to ease what lies ahead,
when cold winds try to fell it after all the leaves are dead.

Standing tall it holds each branch upwards toward the sky
to brave those winter storms, sent from clouds on high.
Having deep faith in nature, knows it soon will send the spring
and those sunny days for the birth of leaves it brings.

Older now, my mind is filled with great awe in the faith I see
and feel ashamed I had less faith than just a simple tree.
Our lives are made of seasons and some will make us grieve,
but if we just have faith, we will never be without our leaves.

The Family Castle - Nancy Rakovszky (Submitted by Melissa Wiltse)

Our castle stands atop the hills
And offers strength of spirit
Place your hand little one unto mine
And I shall lead you to it.

The family castle is now your home
The stones grow ever stronger
For the castle's built on love and hope
Alone you are no longer.

Behind these walls that rise up high
Lies a garden lush and green
Its offerings bountiful as the sea
And beauty yet unseen.

Drink the waters that beckon you near
They'll fill your heart with hope
Feast on the knowledge offered here
For that will help you cope.

Our fires will fill your soul with warmth
To cast off the chill outside
Yet stay not here within these walls
They were not built to hide.

Swing wide the gates so you can see
The world lie at your feet
For without what hides beyond
The castle's incomplete.

Mount our stallion strong and true
For he shall be your guide
His legs have carried those of us
Who've ventured far outside.

Fear not what you do not yet know
Lead on and find your star
Fill your pack with experience
That you shall gain afar.

The good times will outnumber bad
Though sometimes you shall fall
It's at that time that you should seek
The strength of the castle wall.

For no matter the path you choose to take
No matter the strenth of tides
You need only look inside your heart
For that's where the castle resides.

Thursday, October 11, 2007

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow (from Macbeth) - W. Shakespeare (Submitted by Amanda Garber)

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hous upon the stage
And then is heard no more; it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

As Soon as Fred Gets Out of Bed - Jack Prelusky (Submitted by Steven Joao)

As soon as Fred gets out of bed,
his underwear goes on his head.
His mother laughs, "Don't put it there,
a head's no place for underwear!"
But near his ears, above his brains,
is where Fred's underwear remains.

At night when Fred goes back to bed,
he deftly plucks it off his head.
His mother switches off the light
and softly croons, "Good night! Good night!"
And then, for reasons no one knows,
Fred's underwear goes on his toes.

Procrastination - Chris Van Kleeck (Submitted by Chris Van Kleeck)

I had weeks to find a poem
Thinking it would take seconds, I put it off
Days came and went, the due date drew near
Finally, one period beforehand, I write in mild fear.

Written in five minutes in the time after a test
I fear my poem won't stand up to the rest
Creative Expression is mere seconds away, curse my hand
It drew seven from that patriotic jar.

I wanted twenty-two, but I'm stuck with this...
Oh, well. At least my ordeal is finished.
It's All the Same to the Clam - Shel Silverstein (Submitted by Mara Goldberg)

You may leave the clam on the ocean's floor,
It's all the same to the clam.
For a hundred thousand years or more,
It's all the same to the clam.
You may bury him deep in mud and muck
Or carry him 'round to bring you luck,
Or use him for a hockey puck,
It's all the same to the clam.

You may call him Jim or Frank or Nell,
It's all the same to the clam.
Or make an ashtray from his shell,
It's all the same to the clam.
You may take him riding on the train
Or leave him sitting in the rain.
You'll never hear the clam complain,
It's all the same to the clam.

Yes, the world may stop or the world may spin,
It's all the same to the clam.
And the sky may come a'fallin' in,
It's all the same to the clam.
And man may sing his endless songs
Of wronging rights and righting wrongs.
The clam just sets -- and gets along,
It's all the same to the clam.

Richard Cory - Edwin Arlington Robinson (Submitted by Chiyo Sato)

Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.

And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
"Good-morning," and he glittered when he walked.

And he was rich, -- yes, richer than a king, --
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.

So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.

Friday, October 5, 2007

The Mouse's Tale - Lewis Carroll (Submitted by Lauren Holland)

"Mine is a long and sad tale!" said the Mouse, turning to Alice, and sighing.
"It is a long tail, certainly," said Alice, looking down with wonder at the Mouse's tail; "but why do you call it sad?" And she kept on puzzling about it while the Mouse was speaking, so that her idea of the tale was something like this:--

"Fury said to a mouse, that he met in the house, 'Let us both go to law: I will prosecute you. -- Come, I'll take no denial; we must have a trial: for really this morning I've nothing to do.' Said the mouse to the cur, 'Such a trial, dear sir, with no jury or judge, would be wasting our breath.' 'I'll be judge, I'll be jury,' said cunning old Fury. 'I'll try the whole cause, and condemn you to death.'"

"You are not attending!" said the Mouse to Alice, severely. "What are you thinking of?"
"I beg your pardon," said Alice very humbly, "you had got to the fifth bend, I think?"
"I had not!" cried the Mouse sharply and very angrily.
"A knot!" said Alice, always ready to make herself useful, and looking anxiously about her. "Oh, let me help to undo it!"
"I shall do nothing of the sort," said the Mouse, getting up and walking away. "You insult me by talking such nonsense!"
"I didn't mean it!" pleaded poor Alice. "But you're so easily offended, you know!"
The Mouse only growled in reply.

Tour - Carol Snow (Submitted by Stephanie Rubino)

Near a shrine in Japan he'd swept
the path and then placed camellia
blossoms there.

Or -- we had no way of knowing - he'd
swept the path between fallen camellias.

Friends - Catherine M. Hodkinson (Submitted by Jessica Battreall)

Written with a pen, sealed with a kiss,
If you are my friend, please answer me this:
Are we friends, or are we not?
You told me once, but I forgot.
So tell me now, and tell me true,
So I can say I'm here for you
Of all the friends I've ever met,
You're the one I won't forget
And if I die before you do,
I'll go to heaven and wait for you,
I'll give the angels back their wings
and risk the loss of everything
There isn't a think I would o
to have a friend just like you.

Morning Poem - Danielle D. Curtis (Submitted by Kasey Amendola)

Woke early one morning,
the earth lay cool and still,
when suddenly a tiny bird,
perched on my window sill,
it sand a song so lovely,
so carefree and so gay,
that slowly all my troubles,
began to slip away,
it sang of far off places,
of laughter and of fun,
it seemed his very song,
brought out the morning sun,
I pulled back the covers,
and crept slowly out of bed,
and gently shut the window,
and crushed his freaking head,
I'm not a morning person.

Wednesday, October 3, 2007

The Definition of Love - Andrew Marvell (Submitted by Tara Keegan)

My love is of a birth as rare
As 'tis for object strange and bright
It was begotten by Despair
Upon Impossibility.

Magnanimous Despair alone
Could show me so divine a thing,
Where feeble Hope could ne'er have flown
But vainly flapped its tinsel wing.

And yet I quickly might arrive
Where my extended soul is fixed,
But fate does iron wedges drive,
And always crowds itself betwixt.

For Fate with jealous eye does see
Two perfect loves, nor lets them closer
Their union would her ruin be,
And her tyrannic power dispose,

And therefore her decrees of steel
Us as the distant poles have placed,
(Though love's whole world on us doth wheel)
Not by themselves to be embraced,

Unless the giddy heaven fall,
And earth some new convulsion fear,
And, us to join, the world should all
Be cramped into a planisphere.

As lines, so loves oblique may well
themselves in every angle great;
But ours, so truly parallel,
Though infinite, can never meet.

Therefore the love which us doth bind,
But fate so enviously debars,
Is the conjunction of the mind,
And opposition of the stars.

Tuesday, October 2, 2007

Saying Goodbye - Anthony West (Submitted by Jessi-Ann Bettcher)

So soft
the brief touch of your lips
on my cheek.

Was I almost intruding?

"Look after yourself"
should have been
"I love you!"

Then the Jumbo flew over
my head
and I shouted my love
above the roar
and thundering thrust if you'd hear.

Through the clouds in my eyes
I watched you fly away
and wished I'd been born with wings.
The Road Less Traveled - Kit McCallum (Submitted by Fallon Negro)

How often we must bear the challenges of life;
The endless roller coaster between happiness and sorrow;
The constant ups and downs of daily strife.
And always the question remains... Why?

Life is not an easy road for most;
It twists and turns with many forks in the road,
Although always, and inevitably, we are given a choice..

Do we turn to the right... or the left?
Do we take the high road... or the low road?
Do we take the easy path... or the difficult one?

Decisions are not easy for those struggling for direction...
And sometimes the many choices and signs become overwhelming.

While standing at a crossroads in life,
The urge is to take the most comfortable path;
The road with least resistance...
The shortest or most traveled route.

And yet, if we've been down that comfortable road before,
Have gleaned its lessons in life, and learned from our experiences,

Do we yet again follow the known?
Or does our destiny lie in another direction?

The fear of the road less traveled is tangible and all too real;
It manifests itself in many ways,
And tends to cloud the issues that might otherwise be clear.

It is in these times of confusion,
That we must seek peace and solitude;

Time to contemplate on our life,
Our experiences and our choices past;
Time to look back, and reflect on what we have learned
Without fear or confusion.

For only each of us knows our own personal thoughts;
Our unique past and personal history;
The experiences that brought us to the crossroads we now face.

We can always learn a small degree from others' experiences,
And yet... no one person can walk in our shoes,
Others know not the trials and tribulations faced in private...

For each is individual...unique...and personal.

And that is way...while standing at a crossroads,
Only "we" can formulate the decision for ourselves;
The true direction that lies within;
The choices we must deliberate on with clarity and wisdom.

For it is only through personal reflection,
That we can now choose our destiny;
...Our next adventure;
...And the future we will embrace.

Monday, October 1, 2007

Witch-Wife - Anonymous (Submitted by Lauren DeMayo)

SHE is neither pink nor pale,
And she never will be all mine;
She learned her hands in a fairy-tale,
And her mouth on a valentine.
She has more hair than she needs;
In the sun 'tis a woe to me!
And her voice is a string of colored beads,
Or steps leading into the sea.
She loves me all that she can,
And her ways to my ways resign;
But she was not made for any man,
And she never will be all mine.

Guest - Rabindranath Tagoro (From Selected Poems, Translated by William Radice) (Submitted by Jon Becker)

Lady, you have filled these exile days of mine
With sweetness, made a foreign traveler your own
As easily as these unfamiliar stars, quietly,
Cooly smiling from heaven, have likewise given me
Welcome. When I stood at this window and stared
At the southern sky, a message seemed to slide
Into my soul from the harmony of the stars,
A solemn music that said, "We know you are ours-
Guest of our light from the day you passed
From darkness into the world, always our guest."

Lady, your kindness is a star, the same solemn tune
In your glance seems to say, "I know you are mine."
I do not know your language, but I hear your melody:
"Poet, guest of my love, my guest eternally."