Each student was asked
to write a poem (15-30 lines) to enter into the GA Poet Laureate's contest,
sponsored by the Georgia Council for the Arts. The poems were collected, and
seventeen 9th grade finalists from this class will be sent to the state level
competition (that is to say, their poems will be sent). The state level winner
will have his/her poem published, as well as receiving other rewards.
The poems posted here are all from my first period literature class. Some students opted to not have their poems posted on this blog, so those you will not see.
Enjoy!
“Alright”
By Rebecca Arnold
Surrounded
by people
But I
feel so alone
Many
voices are speaking
But none
that I know
I just
don't belong here
But I
can't get away
So I just
take a breath
And to
myself I say:
“You are
going to be okay
You are
going to be alright
Just keep
smiling
Just keep
holding your head up high
It will
all work out
it will
all be fine
Soon this
moment will pass on by.”
It's just
me in my room
Laying In
bed
With
other people’s opinions of me
running
loose in my head
They have
no right to judge me
Yet they
could be right
But
before I degrade myself
I look at
the bright side.
I’m going
to be okay
I’m going
to be alright
The sun
will shine again tomorrow
I will
make it through the night
It will
all work out
it will
all be fine
Soon this
moment will pass on by.
Inside My Brain
By: Anna Brown
Inside my brain
is my favorite place to be.
For I know that in there,
I can be the real me.
Inside my brain
I can dance on the moon.
I can do as I please.
I can sleep until noon.
Inside my brain
there are wonders anew.
I can run up Mount Everest
and ski down it, too!
But I know inside my brain
I cannot stay,
so instead I just smile
and face another day.
“Thinking”
By Hugh Cairney
The power to make sense of anything,
The power to confuse yourself,
Your light bulb may go on with a “ting!”
Thinking is a wonderful thing.
Because people can think,
We are cavemen no more,
But can everyone link
Two things and make them sync?
Alas, not everyone thinks like a captain,
But everyone should at least try.
The people that don’t try and the people that can,
Form the two hulls of a catamaran.
But if one hull continues to fail
(And I wonder which one it may be),
The whole boat would sink, not sail,
The thinkers would think to no avail.
If everyone thought like they should,
The human race would be unstoppable.
Everyone would be understood,
The world would be like a brotherhood.
Freshman Year of Football
By Willie Chambers
I went into the locker room for the very first
time.
We was getting our equipment, locker, and number
today.
Unfortunately freshman had to share a locker
with the other freshman,
But lucky for me I got one all to myself.
The next thing to do was to get my number, which
was the scary part.
My favorite number was still available, but
unfortunately the jersey had been misplaced.
Therefore I chose number 30, and after that I
fell in love with that number.
Although next year I’ll hopefully be number 24
or even 4.
The first day of practice was today, and I was
extremely nervous.
I literally was shaking on the practice field,
but I had finally got over the fear when I made big hit.
The coaches surprisingly asked for my name,
which was very good on the first day.
Finally my first day of practice was over, but
practice was not even the worst part.
As I entered the locker and taking off my
equipment, the lights went off.
I instantly jumped in my locker with my helmet
in my hand prepared.
Although I could not see what was going on, I
had someone informing me play-by-play.
When someone turned on the lights, I looked to
see freshman on the ground, and few still getting jumped.
After that day my nerves left my body,
Because now I knew what to do and what not to
do.
Also I was good with the coaching staff, and i
had show them my abilities on the first day.
Although we ended up 2-8, my freshman year was
still interesting and a great learning experience.
“Summer’s Never Ending
Fantasy”
By Thomas Conner
Last summer was reminiscent of a dream,
Flying by like a mourning dove.
Last summer was much akin to a romance,
Where time was the love.
Last summer was similar to a trip,
In more ways than one.
Last summer was an endless dip
In the hot rays of the sun.
Last summer was always believed
To be stunning.
Last summer, to me,
Was rather cunning.
Last summer, we hoped,
Would always last.
This summer, I hope,
Will be just like the past.
This summer, indeed,
Was all that we had wished.
The grass and trees green
As their vegetation flourished.
The swings in the trees
Lifted me up high.
The stars at night
Shone bright in the sky.
This summer, for sure,
Was the best I’ve had.
After my small adventures,
I’m nothing but glad.
“Soccer”
By Katie Curry
Team
Players that bond together
Players
Swiftly dribbling the ball
Cleats
Moving with a purpose
Ponytails
Flowing through the wind
Forwards
Always willing to score
Midfield
Always willing to run
Defense
Always willing to defend
Goalie
Always willing to keep
Coaches
Push to the limits
Parents
Cheer louder than anyone
Siblings
Always have your back
Friends
Will fight for you
Dribble
Without fear of hesitation
Shoot
And take your shot
Score
And win the game.
The Perfect Poem
By Shayla Dean
Poems are difficult to write,
So this one I will type.
A thousand ideas fly through my head,
While I am trying to decide if my ink should be
red.
Flowers, sunshine, and smiles?
Or are rain, cold, and clouds worth my while?
My teacher says to write what is on my mind,
But all I can focus on is the homework I need to
find.
The words should flow gracefully from my pen,
Yet I am not sure where to begin.
I can write cliches,
About crying in the rain or happy summer days.
I can write about my past,
Or how the good days never last.
I can tell you about my first date,
Or I can tell you about earthquakes.
Poems are like fields of flowers,
You never know if the one you pick will survive
the long hours.
The poem I choose to write may be perfect now,
But other flowers may grow, some more perfect
somehow.
But as this poem comes to an end,
From my pen to paper words have descended.
Inspiration is everywhere you look,
So do not hesitate to write your perfect poem
down in your notebook.
“Tick,
Tick, Tick.”
By: Abby
Enzor
I heard the fence tick,
It reminded me of a clock,
Ticking forward or backward
It doesn’t matter because
it's always counting down.
All my life I’ve heard it's
tick,
Giving me my daily lick,
Hitting me like a whip on
fire,
Reminding me of what little
time I have left.
Eventually it will catch up
to me,
Sending me to where we go
after,
After the clock ticks its
last tick,
Leaving you in the dark
after.
I know I don’t have much
time today,
But what I have I’ll spend
with you,
Tick after tick until my
time is over,
I won’t leave you until I
have to.
I’ll try to help you
through the dark,
Guiding you until you see,
That the tick isn’t the
end,
The tick is just the
beginning to something new.
Clouds
Jack Fernandez
Up in the sky so puffy and
white,
Like a curtain to a window
they hang
So peacefully next to the
sun that is so bright.
Not so glorious when they
turn grey,
And drop liquids as bolts
of light
Pass through the white
stacks of hay.
All around, watchers gather
and adore
To behold the beauty and
take the sights in,
For when the sky can hold
them no more.
When that day shall come,
All of their fans will be
full of sorrow,
But surely it is coming
with a beat of a drum.
Throughout their days they
have helped us with water,
And surely we are grateful,
But one day they will help
us no longer.
War’s Raging Inferno
By Nick Gareis
There are always little flames
Softly burning and quietly crackling
They either grow or quickly fall
But one will grow to become a
Raging Inferno
Waves of fire will light the world
Extinguishing flames and growing others
Lives will be loss to feed hopes
Their souls will go to feed their
Raging Inferno
It will never stop raining
An endless tide of scarlet petals
Many flames will learn to cry, and
Many will suffer, all to fuel their
Raging Inferno
As two infernos clash and bash
One will slowly fade
As there are no more flames
To feed the hopes and dreams of the
Raging Inferno
The world will always be ablaze
As fires grow and fires glow
In a endless battle for survival
To fight for their own
Raging Inferno
down in the creek
By Carrie Gilbert
deep in the forest
down by the creek,
where the sun rarely shows,
and vines slowly creep
a lost soul is crying for something forgotten,
something never again to be seen.
for once on a cloudy night
by this same creek,
the moon looked down hauntingly
over a gruesome scene.
a fair young maiden was lying still in the dark,
in the arms of a man who was weeping.
she had been taken in the night
down to the creek,
and wrongfully she died
with promises she could not keep.
here, a young man, found his love dead,
uncontrollable tears began to leak.
so here he still comes,
down by the creek
to mourn for a lost love,
to cry and to weep.
here he returns to the beautiful maiden,
and silently he slips in the creek.
silently, to a peaceful sleep.
“forever by your side”
by Katerina Johnson
the silent echoes of loneliness encase the shivering autumn air
the crisp crinkle of crimson leaves under your boots startle
your heart
the soft chirping of sparrows around taints your sorrow
the muffled screams of thoughts brew inside your mind
the loss of a friend aches your heart to the very core
the memories cascade around you gallons at a time
the loss eats at the very center of your despair
the saudade floods your brain
the grief feasts upon your dispirited soul
the tears pool into your bloodshot eyes
the atmosphere around you becomes grey and gloomy
while the world pauses in your very mourning
the days become longer and harder to cope
the storm behind your eyes is released
and you break down into tears
while your entire life collapses within a single moment
but take a deep breath
and flash a smile in the face of grief
because they would not want you to mourn your life away
in the end all will be well
one day they shall return
and wrap you in their warm embrace
while whispering silent promises of safety and protection
as they encourage you not to lose yourself
they will forever be in your journeys and dreams
to guide you through the dark and starless nights
no matter the terms or distance
they will be forever by your side
The Truest
By Nataly Lassiter
The people most dear to your heart
Will never be the ones to tear you apart.
These people are the truest of friends,
Who will love you to no end.
Your true friends will be with you, no matter what;
Into your heart they will never cut.
They will keep a smile on your face;
Never making you feel replaced.
You can tell them anything, knowing their lips are sealed,
So there are no worries about your secrets being spilled.
Some are there for life, some come just to hide,
Be careful who choose, but also relax and enjoy the ride.
When they are miles away,
Just know, it will be okay.
To yourself you can always stay true,
As your friends will brighten up your days that are blue.
Of course, people slip up and make mistakes,
Just remain hopeful and know they aren’t just fakes.
Always forgive, never forget;
As your truest friends are your best bet.
“The Tree Cycle”
By Louie Lumley
A bird flies past,
it lands in a tree.
I continue to look out over the rolling hills.
I am amazed by just how far I can see,
beginning to figure how far I am looking,
when I hear a familiar sound:
a diesel truck.
Patiently, eagerly I wait for it to round the turn in the hill.
Slowly, it crawls into view.
A log truck, hauling trees,
they will be taken to the mill.
At the mill, the trees will be cut into boards,
they will be chipped into wood chips,
they will be made into pulp.
The boards might be purchased by a person and built into a house.
The wood chips could be bought by a school for their playgrounds.
The pulp will be made into paper and cardboard.
The excess material may be burned.
Its matter released into the atmosphere,
Its matter will turn to ashes.
The matter in the atmosphere will be consumed by another tree.
That tree will grow.
The cycle will continue.
Pressure
By Elizabeth Parks
The water washes over your head,
And the touch of the sand on your toes
Itches for its presence to be felt.
Sometimes the waves become bothersome, as everyone knows.
Your withering strength weakens as the water pushes harder,
And as the water seeps slowly into your ears
You continue to push through it all,
But your own voice you no longer can hear.
It is hard to be confused,
And we have all been in the ocean about to collapse,
People all around telling us to just swim.
With water crashing overhead, the voices are hard to grasp.
The white tips of the waves
Crash all around,
But when you can barely breathe
How can solid ground be found?
Everyone expects you to simply get up,
But how can you make that choice,
If within the sea of voices inside your head
You do not have a voice?
“Cross-country”
By: Austin Perez
There are several school sports in the fall
It is hard to choose which one to do
Soccer, basketball, and softball too
But there is only one sport that I enjoy
Cross-country is by far the best sport in the fall
Every mile repeat and every hill workout is alway worth it
Because we were striving to win the state meet
That was my coaches goal and it became ours too
Last year we started training in the summer
Preparing for November 4th
It was the day of State
It came like a flash but we knew we were ready
We were all running our best
Only 5 runners make our points
We were trying our best to get the least
In the end we had a total of 80 points
We did not know if we won when we finished
We had to wait till the awards
They seemed to take forever calculating all the places
We were all very nervous we wanted to win for our coach
All 7 of us huddled together as they called out the places
We did get first and we were so happy
We were 37 points away from getting second
Both our girls and boys cross-country team won first that day
“Jesus”
Written by Emily Sanders
He knows when I was born,
And when I’ll die as well.
The exact day, exact moment,
But that, He could never tell.
He knows every piece of me,
For I am one He did create,
Knitting me in my mother’s womb,
He customized my traits.
I was created in His image,
Though everyday I fall short,
I will forever be unashamed,
Ignoring all teases and torts.
But many do not know the story,
Or either simply do not understand,
That Jesus is the Lord, the Messiah!
And the King of all the land.
He was sent to earth as an infant,
Born to the virgin, you see,
He was beaten, abused, and mistreated,
Then crucified, to set us free.
I know that Jesus loves me,
And that His love’s for you too.
So join His mighty kingdom,
The choice is up to you.
“Let Go”
By Stephanie Sapp
As she wandered through the streets
With the stars in her eyes,
It seemed as though her irises
Had stolen the color from the skies.
Her auburn hair was blown from the wind
As she went wherever she could find
To keep the stress from the day,
Clear of her mind.
She felt her heart racing
As she met people on the street
Some she understood, but
Some spoke unique.
Over time she came to think that the stars above
Had known what was wrong
Because they twinkled brightly through the night
Like an old sweet song.
She felt all of her
Worries melt away
Almost as if time had stopped
To save the day.
Alas she found herself standing
Around an open fire
With people all around
Who shared the same desire.
To let go of the stress
And the worrisome thought
Of not being enough,
Or accomplishing a lot.
As she relaxed and let herself go,
She realized she was not in this world alone.
¨Catching Butterflies¨
By: Dalton Shepard
On a warm summer morning,
On this new day´s first light.
I was rising out of bed.
As soon as I was dressed,
I started out.
Hoping not to wake my mother.
My father was working just like always,
But my mother always stayed home.
I tiptoed down the hall.
I was treading ever so lightly,
Trying not to wake my mother.
Then ¨creeeek¨ went the board beneath my feet.
I flinched at the sound,
Hoping my mother did not wake.
I heard no sound, she was fast asleep.
I made it to the door,
Slowly I crept outside
The first thing I saw was a beautiful butterfly.
My net was beside the door.
I obtained it from where it laid.
I had a stare down with the beautiful butterfly.
I quickly sprinted after it,
But I was not fast enough.
The beautiful butterfly kept on fluttering by.
I sat there as still as can be,
Waiting for another butterfly.
I saw it, it was the same butterfly as before.
I sprung into action,
Like a cheetah pouncing on his prey.
I caught the butterfly at that very moment.
Donald Warren
February 22, 2017
“Lost Words”
I walk down a shimmering stream,
Feeling as though I’m in a midsummer’s dream,
Slowly thinking of what to write,
But as soon as words begin to take flight,
I don’t have a parchment to keep the flow,
So my words just run away and go.
I sit under a dark oak tree,
Longley staring at the contrast of creeping shadows and the
brilliance of sun,
Trying desperately to see if the words will come to me,
For the lines of poetry that I need to know,
Looking for my words that had great flow.
I lie under a blanket of luminescent stars,
Staring at the veil of black dotted with light,
Trying hard to find the words that leapt up to mars,
Dozing off into a dream,
I finally found the words from my midsummer’s dream,
Now that I have parchment to keep the flow,
My words shall never run away and go.
“An Adventure”
By Arrie Williams
It’s on days like these,
when the wind barely blows
and the sun is up
like it always has been
and when the temperature is neither
extremely hot nor cold,
I hope for something more.
I hope for an adventure.
I hope for the winds to pick up
so I can fly away.
I hope for the temperature to rise
so I can cool off in the middle of the ocean.
I hope for the temperature to drop
so I can climb a snowy mountain and then ski
down.
I hope for an adventure.
And if these things won’t come,
I hope for a reason to leave
so I can travel and find those things and more,
to find my adventure.
By Reece Willingham
I was sitting out in the
open
right against the trees.
Thinking of life and recent
events
Some missed opportunities.
I thought of my friend
Rivers,
He was a wonderful guy
He was loved by everyone
To bad he had to die
Now why did he die
Some people thought
He was murdered
Shot and killed on spot
But who could’ve done
This awful crime?
Who has the Skills
Or the time?
But as I was thinking,
Someone came up
The person who could’ve
done it
Was Jacob.
Why, how could it be Jacob?
Was he Crazy,
A psychopath?
No, it was Jealousy
Rivers got the girl,
Everything was alright.
Jacob just wanted
One last fight.
“Best Friends”
Riley Edge
We
all have that someone,
we
all love them so.
You
can never get mad at them,
even
when it is low.
You
never want them to leave you,
you
always want them at your side.
There
is something that makes a connection,
you
always seem to bind.
They
are there when you do not need them,
they
are there when you do.
This
someone is your major,
while
their major is you.
They
are always in your heart,
they
are always with you.
No
matter what you are doing,
you
are with them too.
It
does not matter where you are,
you
can be on see or land.
You
are inseparatable,
you
and your friend.
Water by Shane Bryant
Water is the blood of the earth we can't live
without it
More important than anything if you want to
survive
It covers more than half of the earth
It’s deepest depths we have not yet discovered
It carves through rock and many landscapes
Shaping and changing our world as we know it
Used for transportation across vast expanses
Flowing and flowing it never stops
Water like a most sought after treasure
Has been fought and died for many times
Our need for water is ever increasing
With each baby born every day
Water can be both beautiful and destructive
A beautiful caribbean sunset may turn
To a wild and voracious tempest
Ripping the land apart
