Poetry is . . .
Poetry is . . . by Caleb Mantanona Poetry is your mind coming alive and its convincing me to join the ride Poetry is the world unknown and a hint of a soothing tone Poetry is the…
Poetry is . . .
Poetry is . . . by Jerimiah Abad Poetry is an experience passed on to another. Poetry is a story of happiness Like a healthy bird in a nest. Poetry is a story of inspiration Like a…
My Place
My Place by Arianna Dominguez The cold Canadian wind against my face. White sparkling flakes covers the ground. Every child yelling “it’s a snow day, it’s a snow day." Hear kids walking down 152 street and cars yelling at…
Hawaii
Hawaii by Ileans Prado-Domingo No snowmen and snowflakes. No Disneyland. Only heat waves and once in a blue moon it rains. There is no wheat fields. There are no gold mines. There is only taro patches and pineapple fields.…
The Girl with the Boy Hair
The Girl with the Boy Hair by Charlize Celebre There is this girl who hates herself It’s mostly because of her gender Her hair is like rapunzels But her face isn’t really pure beauty She wants to be like Michael…
Poetry is . . .
Poetry is . . . by Jett Lacaden Poetry is a story that has a meaning. It’s a nursery rhyme for children. It’s a short story for anybody. It’s a song, for someone special. Poetry to me you…
My First True Love
My First True Love by Caisha Nunes The person who taught me to never give up and always try your best at everything you do. Is my first true love, she is always there for me when I…
Longing
Longing by Lauren Alvarez City lights shine so bright that the shy stars stay hidden The feeling of the desert air brushing across my face Longing for the feel in sin city The dryness of the streets and no moisture…
This Place
This Place by Megan Ulman As we drive in our little red car, streams of blue sky and green trees fly past my face. I know this place. This place smells fresh and familiar. This place tastes like Mexican…
What is Poetry?
What is Poetry? by Kristy Matsubara Poetry is like, climbing to the top of Mount Everest, Challenging in every way To continue to strive and to reach your goals Poetry is like, the sound of music In a slow and…
Poetry is . . .
Poetry is . . . by Brennen MacMillan Poetry is Poetry is not just boring Poetry is a way to express who you are and how you feel Poetry is a way to escape reality when nothing is going…
A Special Place
A Special Place by Taytum Tynanes Driving through the shadows of trees, and feel splashes of the oceans breeze, We pull into the driveway of a little house, Where lives a little field mouse. A family is there…
Darkness
The dark sky gloomy The pitter patter of rain Dark clouds in the sky Birds as black as night Thick white mist cover my feet Just nothing in sight Just a grumpy man Withered, old, and bitter Face…
No Snow in Hawaii
No Snow in Hawaii by Jayden Brioso No glistening snow A place where the sun glows Big blue salty oceans Dances with peaceful motions This dance has a certain flow Never seen, felt snow before Wanting to meet it even…
The Unknown Neighborhood
The Unknown Neighborhood by Keani Calimpong My neighborhood is as mysterious as an unknown alley way But is friendly enough to make you stay My neighbors are unknown as far as my information goes My neighbors are busy bees One…
Poetry is . . .
Poetry is . . . by Christian Galong Poetry is original, with rhyming syllables Poetry will never have perfection, like humans, but both can show affection Poetry can be bittersweet like dark chocolate in between your teeth Good poems show…
Summer 2k14
Summer 2k14 by Tori Caminos Your boiling hot skin sun like a ball of fire in the sky rays of heat beaming onto the face of the earth nobody in sight when you walk to the park the ground so…
The Little Green House Across the Street
The Little Green House Across the Streey by Shannon De Rego The little green house across the street. The big tree with mangoes on the ground rotting with a million flies on top the ripped and rotting spot of the…
The Man on Thursday
The Man on Thursday by Maile Morrell When I was little, I would play outside with my friends. Every Thursday, I would see a man. He would walk down the street, and back. He was an old man.…
Anonymous
Anonymous by Kariann Camacho You can tell by their eyes You can tell by their smile The way they look at you And the feels you never got before It's a passion and a word no one can explain…