Poetry: Some of my first written pieces.
My Brother Came Back
My brother came back home
with a sparkling lizard
a starving cow
snow from a blizzard
A penguin who knew how to bow
a singing fish
a flying dish
a thing that made a noise kish-kish
hand in hand, dog and cat,
Also a brick that wore a hat and that:
was the last time we sent him to buy eggs!
A Strange women
This women is not of this world
her face is blue,green, and yellow
her hair is blue and green
she has flowers and grapes in her chair
she's eying her vines
maybe to make sure that they don't grow on her
She's happy by not smiling
with ruby red lips how can you tell.
She's one strange women
Battle Cry of the Lawn mower
I'm a monster made of of vicious metal
clashing and sawing,
running down fresh green soilders
that cannot move to run
I run round and round
like a warship on a bright green battle field
Leaving bits of the foe scattered on the ground
I grow as I make my rounds
Along my territory protecting againist murders
keeping thieves from stealing precious food when the enemy is defeated
I become quiet and I go to my home
A dark room where I wait until the opposition surfaces again.
The Scar Remains
The last day of second grade at about six o'clock pm
The memory remains.
we go outside and in the car and drive away.
the feeling remains
we went to look at a car for sale
the excitement remains
the car was baby blue and small
the thought remains
I touched the card it was old
the texture remains
I got inside and pretended to drive
the playfullness remains
I grabbed the stick shift and pulled it back
the movement remains.
the car started moving and I fell out
The nervousness remains.
the tire ran over my knee
The terror remains
my mom stopped the car before it went over my head
the relieft remains
I went home with an achy knee
The scar remains.
If only we would listen
If you look closely at anyone most often you can see something inside.
That something is very important, but still people try and try to ignore it.
It could be their conscious or their soul or any sort of sense of trying to get away.
They could be yearning to be free and run wild in an space or simply to know and experience something different.
From their everyday life of doing the same thing over and over again.
Just by listening one could have a new and better life yet no one listens
When will we stop what we are doing and lift our ears to hear?
what we see in one's eyes, and listen to what they have to say.
THERE ARE MORE TO COME.. PLEASE COMMENT, IF YOU LIKE.
My brother came back home
with a sparkling lizard
a starving cow
snow from a blizzard
A penguin who knew how to bow
a singing fish
a flying dish
a thing that made a noise kish-kish
hand in hand, dog and cat,
Also a brick that wore a hat and that:
was the last time we sent him to buy eggs!
A Strange women
This women is not of this world
her face is blue,green, and yellow
her hair is blue and green
she has flowers and grapes in her chair
she's eying her vines
maybe to make sure that they don't grow on her
She's happy by not smiling
with ruby red lips how can you tell.
She's one strange women
Battle Cry of the Lawn mower
I'm a monster made of of vicious metal
clashing and sawing,
running down fresh green soilders
that cannot move to run
I run round and round
like a warship on a bright green battle field
Leaving bits of the foe scattered on the ground
I grow as I make my rounds
Along my territory protecting againist murders
keeping thieves from stealing precious food when the enemy is defeated
I become quiet and I go to my home
A dark room where I wait until the opposition surfaces again.
The Scar Remains
The last day of second grade at about six o'clock pm
The memory remains.
we go outside and in the car and drive away.
the feeling remains
we went to look at a car for sale
the excitement remains
the car was baby blue and small
the thought remains
I touched the card it was old
the texture remains
I got inside and pretended to drive
the playfullness remains
I grabbed the stick shift and pulled it back
the movement remains.
the car started moving and I fell out
The nervousness remains.
the tire ran over my knee
The terror remains
my mom stopped the car before it went over my head
the relieft remains
I went home with an achy knee
The scar remains.
If only we would listen
If you look closely at anyone most often you can see something inside.
That something is very important, but still people try and try to ignore it.
It could be their conscious or their soul or any sort of sense of trying to get away.
They could be yearning to be free and run wild in an space or simply to know and experience something different.
From their everyday life of doing the same thing over and over again.
Just by listening one could have a new and better life yet no one listens
When will we stop what we are doing and lift our ears to hear?
what we see in one's eyes, and listen to what they have to say.
THERE ARE MORE TO COME.. PLEASE COMMENT, IF YOU LIKE.