He's really super funny.

He laughs so great,

Five stars is how he rates.

 

Been in my class since kindergarden.

It makes me so heartened.

He's truly amazing,

AMIR IS BLAZIN'!

 

 

---

 

 

Life

 

I know that we all love

   nature

   fire

   water

   earth

   wind

   animals

 

We all have love for

   Family

   Friends

   God

   Strength

   America

 

We don't know what it is, Love/ Hate for

   Violence

   War

   Blood

 

Why do we have

   Biters

   Haters

   Teachers

   School

   War

   The feeling that your drowning when you're not

 

But we survive with

   Music

   Drama

   TV

   Video games

   Piano

   And once more,

   Love

 

---

 

 

 

 

Dead

 

They're watching.

Empty eyes,

Stalking you,

Piled upon shelves,

As you walk,

They Stalk.

Ready to strike

Waiting,

Waiting,

Waiting for the right time to waken.

 

Intention:

The way that i came up with this idea was that for a class assignment, we aere all given pictures of something and with those pictures you had to write a poem about the pictures. When I got my first picture, it was something stupid that i couldn't even remember. then i got another picture that was good. it was a picture of a binch of skulls and bones lined up on shelves. I think that it was the catacombs on france, but i took that picture and wrote this poem. Again like my other two poems, i had no intention, but then as i think about it now, the poems intention could be interpreted as saying that zombies or ghosts could be real. So that's why it's one of my favorite poems that i wrote.

 

 

---

 

 

Almost There

 

Your goal, it's right there,

Right in front of you,

Staring down at you.

It's the cliff you need to climb.

The river you need to swim.

The tree at the top of the Rain forest,

Beckoning to you to climb up in it's branches.

 

Helping Hand,

How it gives you the little boost,

The push,

The help you need to make the climb to victory.

 

Then once you're there,

You smile and wave.

Though you know you couldn't have done it,

Without helping hand.

 

---

 

 

 

Motto Response

 

This poem is a lot of crap,

It's completly off the map.

I mean I guess you gotta' have fun

and dig your run.

 

If you dig your run,

And you dig his run,

Then they might turn around and dig your run.

And they might respect your gun.

 

---

 

 

Out of this World

 

Maybe fitting in isn't so perfect.

Maybe you shouldn't be the same.

How 'bout you be different.

Be the rebel in this life.

 

---

 

 

They Work

 

Busy as ants, they work.

With their devices, they work.

They work for their jobs.

They work for the people.

 

Intention:

The way that I came up with this idea is when we were sharing in class about how to get ideas for poems. Danny sugessted looking out the window, so that's what I did, and what i saw was construction workers fixing a broken water maine. So i decided to write about them and this is the pom that i came up with. I considered making it longer, for a while, but then i decided that not all of my poems had to be long, so i left it at that. I didn't have an intention when i wrote this, i just wanted to write a poem so i could get get a grade, but i think that my poem actually turned out pretty good, so yeah!

 

---

 

 

 

The Cop

 

The Cop

He stands on the corner of David and Thomas street.

Watching what goes on through his black sun glasses.

And what does he see?

Men in masks!

Emerging from a bank.

The lead man's name is Hank.

Hank loves his dough,

So, the cop has to act.

He chases the men and jumps on Hank's back.

They fall on the floor, but Hank runs through a door, on a store.

The cop follows him, with his gun.

He pulls the trigger, at Hank

But his gun is hollow.

Hank runs through the back door.

But in the back room, there's a LION!

And the lion does ROAR!

But the lion is nice,

So Hank gives him rice.

The cop runs in,

And falls into a bin.

The lion and Hannk ran back to the bank.

Where Hank's buddies are.

Then they hop into the car

With the lion.

And the cop starte cryin'

They got away!

No medal today...

 

 

---

 

 

Untitled...

 

I sit and I watch,

The people who don't care.

I sit and I glare,

At the people who stare.

 

It's just me,

No one great.

I'm no one you'd want to be.

I'm filled with hate.

 

Hate for why I'm alone.

Hate for why I'm poor.

No one cares if I moan,

They just continue their chores.

 

I lie on a box,

As the snow falls around.

My pillow is rocks,

On the cold, hard ground.

 

I hold out a cup.

Begging for change.

But no one gives a fuck,

They don't come in range.

 

I'm just the poor boy,

Nothing to eat.

I don't have a toy.

My life is beat.

 

How much longer can I last?

Nothing to eat,

Soon my life will pass.

My life is beat.

 

I'm leaving now,

I won't stay another day.

I don't know how,

But I've passed away.

 

Intention:

I wrote this poem because i wanted to write a story about a hobo, but a serious story. But i couldn't write a story because we were in a poetry unit, so i decided to write a poem about a hobo. I didn't really have any intentions when i wrote this poem, well... maybe i wanted to get a good grade. But now that I think about it , the intention could be interpreted as showing that how homeless people think. Except one problem is that I don't know exactly how a hobo thinks because i'm not one, but i thought that this might be how one thinks. I think that i have a pretty good poem going and i like how it's serious.