Shocking
"From my fathers side of the bed"
By- Marie Howe
When he had fallen deep asleep and was snoring
and I had moved out slowly from under his heavy arm,
I would sometimes nudge him a little,
not to wake him-
but so that he would sleep more lightly
and wake more easily should the soldiers,
maybe already assembling in the downstairs hall,
who were going to kill my father and rape my mother,
begin to mount the stairs.
Questions
1. why did you select this poem for this category?
- To me this poem was ordinary but towards the end it shocks me when it said, kill my father and rape my mother.
2. What do you feel or imagine when you read this poem?
- A young girl talking to me while walking around her house showing me, her father and mother dead.
3. What are your favorite lines?
-"When he had fallen deep asleep and was snoring and I had moved out slowly from under his heavy arm".Thought provoking
"Practicing"
By: Marie Howe
I want to write a love poem for the girls I kissed in seventh grade,
a song for what we did on the floor in the basement
of somebody’s parents’ house, a hymn for what we didn’t say but thought:
That feels good or I like that, when we learned how to open each others’ mouths
how to move our tongues to make somebody moan. We called it practicing, and
one was the boy, and we paired off -- maybe six or eight girls -- and turned out
the lights and kissed and kissed until we were stoned on kisses, and lifted our
nightgowns or let the straps drop, and, Now you be the boy:
concrete floor, sleeping bag or couch, playroom, game room, train room, laundry.
Linda’s basement was like a boat with booths and portholes
instead of windows. Gloria’s father had a bar downstairs with stools that spun,
plush carpeting. We kissed each others’ throats.
We sucked each others’ breasts, and we left marks, and never spoke of it upstairs
outdoors, in daylight, not once. We did it, and it was
practicing, and slept, sprawled so our legs still locked or crossed, a hand still lost
in someone’s hair… and we grew up and hardly mentioned who
the first kiss really was — a girl like us, still sticky with the moisturizer we’d
shared in the bathroom. I want to write a song
for that thick silence in the dark, and the first pure thrill of unreluctant desire,
just before we made ourselves stop.
a song for what we did on the floor in the basement
of somebody’s parents’ house, a hymn for what we didn’t say but thought:
That feels good or I like that, when we learned how to open each others’ mouths
how to move our tongues to make somebody moan. We called it practicing, and
one was the boy, and we paired off -- maybe six or eight girls -- and turned out
the lights and kissed and kissed until we were stoned on kisses, and lifted our
nightgowns or let the straps drop, and, Now you be the boy:
concrete floor, sleeping bag or couch, playroom, game room, train room, laundry.
Linda’s basement was like a boat with booths and portholes
instead of windows. Gloria’s father had a bar downstairs with stools that spun,
plush carpeting. We kissed each others’ throats.
We sucked each others’ breasts, and we left marks, and never spoke of it upstairs
outdoors, in daylight, not once. We did it, and it was
practicing, and slept, sprawled so our legs still locked or crossed, a hand still lost
in someone’s hair… and we grew up and hardly mentioned who
the first kiss really was — a girl like us, still sticky with the moisturizer we’d
shared in the bathroom. I want to write a song
for that thick silence in the dark, and the first pure thrill of unreluctant desire,
just before we made ourselves stop.
Questions
1. Why did you select this poem for this category?
- this poem really got me thinking of things and what it tried to say to me while reading it.
2. What do you feel or imagine when you read this poem?
- I think of many things but it keeps me wondering what the poem really means..
3. What are your favorite lines?
-I want to write a love poem for the girls I kissed in seventh grade, a song for what we did on the floor in the basementMusical
"Carnival"
By: Genny Lim
CANT FIND THE POEM!
Questions
1. Why did you select this poem for this category?
- It really speaks to me musically.
2. What do you feel or imagine when you read this poem?
- I feel like a vibe that is speaking to me to sing.
3. What are your favorite lines?
Emotive
" The new life"
By: Marie Howe
CANT FIND THE POEM!
Question
1. Why did you select this poem for this category?
- Really made me think twice of what I felt for this poem.
2. What do you feel or imagine when you read this poem?
- I just imagine me starring at the clouds while reading this poem.
3. What are your favorite lines?
Beautiful
"Some Clouds"
By: Steve Kowit
Now that I've unplugged the phone,
no one can reach me--
At least for this one afternoon
they will have to get by without my advice
or opinion.
they will have to get by without my advice
or opinion.
Now nobody else is going to call
& ask in a tentative voice
if I haven't yet heard that she's dead,
that woman I once loved--
nothing but ashes scattered over a city
that barely itself any longer exists.
& ask in a tentative voice
if I haven't yet heard that she's dead,
that woman I once loved--
nothing but ashes scattered over a city
that barely itself any longer exists.
Yes, thank you, I've heard.
It had been too lovely a morning.
That in itself should have warned me.
The sun lit up the tangerines
& the blazing poinsettias
like so many candles.
For one afternoon they will have to forgive me.
I am busy watching things happen again
It had been too lovely a morning.
That in itself should have warned me.
The sun lit up the tangerines
& the blazing poinsettias
like so many candles.
For one afternoon they will have to forgive me.
I am busy watching things happen again
that happened a long time ago.
as I lean back in Josephine's lawnchair
under a sky of incredible blue,
broken--if that is the word for it--
by a few billowing clouds,
all white & unspeakably lovely,
drifting out of one nothingness into another.
as I lean back in Josephine's lawnchair
under a sky of incredible blue,
broken--if that is the word for it--
by a few billowing clouds,
all white & unspeakably lovely,
drifting out of one nothingness into another.
Questions
1. Why did you select this poem for this category?
- This poem really touched me and I really like it.
2. What do you feel or imagine when you read it?
- I see the men actually doing everything he is saying in the poem.
3. What are your favorite lines?
-At least for this one afternoon they will have to get by without my advice or opinion.Interesting
"Disappearance"
By: Genny Lim
CANT FIND THE POEM!
Questions
1. Why did you select this poem for this category?
- Made me think for a while.
2. what do you feel or imagine when you read this poem?
- I actually dont feel a thing.
3. What are your favorite lines?
Humurous
"The Sacrafice"
By: Jim Simmerman
I liked the kid but the voice
ricocheting round in my head
like a hard foul ball in a
like a hard foul ball in a
batting cage said, "Damn it
all, Abe, what's the matter
with you? Don't you want to
all, Abe, what's the matter
with you? Don't you want to
be called to the big leagues
some day? Maybe pinch hit
for the Angels? Who knows,
some day? Maybe pinch hit
for the Angels? Who knows,
maybe even start with the Padres?
Say, you could be another Jesus
Alou if you'd just learn to con-
Say, you could be another Jesus
Alou if you'd just learn to con-
centrate: eye on ball and all
that jazz—get it?—and clean
the cowflop out of your ears,
that jazz—get it?—and clean
the cowflop out of your ears,
OK?! When I say step up and take
a cut you'd best let me see you
swinging away. You're blessed,
a cut you'd best let me see you
swinging away. You're blessed,
hell yes, with a stroke that's clean
as a cherub's butt, but you've
got to get the lead out—move it!
as a cherub's butt, but you've
got to get the lead out—move it!
I mean—if you want to be safe.
The main thing is, don't think
so much: that's management stuff
The main thing is, don't think
so much: that's management stuff
and you're paid to play. So
knock off the backtalk and mind
games, Einstein, and get your head
knock off the backtalk and mind
games, Einstein, and get your head
back into the game. You need
to learn to read the signs.
Look: this means pull it;
to learn to read the signs.
Look: this means pull it;
this means take; and this
means lay it on the line,
means sacrifice for God's sake!"
means lay it on the line,
means sacrifice for God's sake!"
Questions
1. Why did you select this poem for this category?
- This poem didnt really seemed like a poem for me, just like a regular story.
2. What do you feel or imagine when you read this poem?
- I imagine the really doing all the things he is saying.
3. What is your favorite line?
Look: this means pull it; this means take; and this means lay it on the line, means sacrifice for God's sake!" Stylistically
" The Messiah"
By: Jim Simmerman
CANT FIND THE POEM!
Questions
1. Why did you select this poem for this category?
- I liked the style he wrote it.
2. What do you feel or imagine when you read this poem?
- I don feel anything at all.
3. What is your favorite line?
Inspiring
"Waxing"
By: Ice-Floe
CANT FIND THE POEM!
Questions
1. Why did you select this poem for this category?
- Really speaks to me.
2. What do you feel or imagine when you read this poem?
- I feel some type of happiness in me.
3. What is your favorite line?
