View the Winners | View Poems by School Round 3 The world around us is the ultimate source of inspiration. There is ever an abundance of material for the writer to glean. Please respond to one of the following with a poem. Listen to a piece of instrumental music (no lyrics) and write a poem based on what you think the music is about or where it takes you. The music could be rock, jazz, classical, world, etc. Look at a newspaper and use its contents-any or all of it, including stories, ads, layout, personals, classifieds, etc.-as your source of inspiration for a poem. Ask an older person to tell you a story about his or her life. You might ask them to tell you about the time when they were your age. Or you might want them to tell you about something quite specific. Write a poem based on what they tell you. Kyra's Poem When you were my age you saved the butter at your boarding school and fed the chickens while your brother learned theology of course, you were the practical one and ended up a chemical engineer you tell me about oil and the ranch and the time you saved a horse from drowning swam with it all the way around the bend in the river, holding up his head. I'm glad that we can email and I write back with teenage dreams you don't repeat your stories and tell the ones my grandmother censors. Fnally in the twilight of your life I'm seeing the sunlight of your experiences. -Kyra, Santa Fe Preparatory School (Rating: 10.00) Read Reviews of this Poem Moments of Importance Single white female seeking... Someone. Someone Who cherishes that hour between waking and rising the steady beat that the dryer makes after you've turned it off That stage before a marshmallow in hot cocoa is unsalvagable, But you can still pick it up with your fingertips the awkward first kiss where you adjust to new lips hoping you are doing everything right Who can't help but smile When a puppy yawns and shakes his head When a baby burps and grins When an elderly couple are still in love After a lifetime in this world I need someone to share Those moments And to be never and Always changing -Olivia, Santa Fe Preparatory School (Rating: 10.00) Read Reviews of this Poem Untitled My uncle lives in Questa, New Mexico. The place is small, built of boards and warm with simplicity. He says the Indians called my father medicine eagle. He says lizards live under us in long tunnels and you can hear them sometimes. He says the pile of rocks in his yard used to be tools of ancient giants. He told me that he and my father pointed loaded guns at eachother when they were kids. His voice is high pitched because he has to roll a joint the night before so he can roll out of bed and live his life high. His daughter goes to cambridge and his son is a firefighter. He says he loves my father and told me how my father once had a girlfriend sit on his legs while he hung off the edge of a cliff and carved and eagle in the side of it. -Dylan, Santa Fe Preparatory School (Rating: 10.00) Read Reviews of this Poem Bicycle rodeo-o furling, unfurling tents and bodies swig of alcohol becomes rage in fire-eater's outtake breaths camphor sweat ass smells assissinate olfactory bending backwards my back pops as I limbo with my cage as I dance pelvis interlocked with belly button bending my body in half I am an arched bridge from forearm to metatarsal offensive orange and silver duct tape we give into we give into the urge to be onstage and free we see the buses and deranged boys and girls and want to run away to the circus and be ourselves finally! and we'll be together so happy together we'll be lost lassoing horizon through vision of our audience high on unity and harmony high on orange and silver pierced septum ghetto boots glasses and grey suit pregnant flowing dress pyro hula hoops baby blue cowboy who picks his nose and holds my hand when we two-step skinny guy drinking a paper sack ass crack beach ball braided beard beer gut snaggle toothed curled lip pixie perfect tanned face clairol hair jean jacket dances with her arms over her head swinging earth by its feet slanted glasses loving the people loving the people loving the people with crazy hope-filled polka punches cross hatched chest hairs peek-a-boo bra strap missle launcher mind nice feet nice feet nice feet nice Smile -Daniel Ingroff, Taos High School (Rating: 10.00) Read Reviews of this Poem Walking With Swimming Pool Shoes On My great grandma Wears swimming pool shoes And anklet socks From the summer Into the winter And she cuts her own hair That she washes with Dial soap She is spry and feisty Her recurring words to me are: "Mi jita, Get your diploma 'Cause you're gonna need it!" Which I acknoledge with a nod and a smile Inwardly though, Sirens go off inside my head Diploma? Does my grandma know that I don't have the option To ponder a diploma I'm too concerned with "higher learning" She tells me: "Mi jita, In those days my brothers and sisters And I had to help on the ranch." There was no time for school for her She considered herself blessed My great grandma is raw She holds nothing back from me Explaining to me why nowadays women shouldn't Wear white wedding dresses A candidness that makes me aware Of the heat rising to my cheeks But I extract from her Seventy-five years And fourth grade education An appreciation for what it means to be Genuine and fearless To know, if I want I too can walk about the world With swimming pool shoes on. -Amanda Navarro, St. Pius X -Albuquerque (Rating: 9.90) Read Reviews of this Poem Embrace I saw a child once As he played on the waiting room floor. His hands were the blind man's cane, His eyes the glutton's mouth-- Those insatiable, earthen eyes. Between us an entire universe sprang forth. Our souls were bare to one another And content in their nakedness. I stumbled down gullies of gold Into caverns of consciousness Where the only light shined from my face. The earth was close and we embraced. I saw my grandmother once As she died on a hospital bed. Her hands were a dying rose, Her eyes were Sleep's first kiss-- Those deep pools of midday blue. A cosmos of antiquity settled around me. I was more than naked as her gaze Trickled through me. Rivers of radiance ran through the heavens Raining indigo love onto celestial seas That lapped at lucid shores. The heavens were close and we embraced. I sit alone now Looking across my grandmother's face. Love and learning are eternal twins Echoing through her hollowed eyes. And as Sleep sits beside me To gently kiss my eyelids closed, She sees my grandmother behind them. As the timeless shores swell She kneels close to a little boy and they embrace. Inspired by "Asturias", written by Isaac Albeniz and performed by Marco Aurellio Gutierrez Mares on Guitarra Tres Simple. -Brendan Shaughnessy, Onate High School (Rating: 9.70) Read Reviews of this Poem Mozart's Overture to the Magic Flute Darkness Silence, motionless silence, And then from the belly of nothingness, A sound. A pulse emerges with bold welcome, A blast of color and light. This fragrant melody continues quietly, Cautiously, But with the same waving pulse. Then, the music starts to skip, to race, Faster and faster, With a light bounce in its step Like a child quivering with excitement. Higher and higher this energy climbs, Vibrant, sparkling, bursting at the seams Until it can no longer contain itself, and BOOM! Light and life explode as though from the Emptiness of the stage. This song of adventure, of discovery, Of love, of mystery, Rich and warm with humming violins, Deep oboes, flirtatious clarinets, All intertwined in an elaborate dance. Then this triumphal refrain returns To fragile pulse, Keeping an audience in anxious exhilaration, Straining to hear the notes, The crisp notes that fall from the instruments like leaves. Ah, what rapture of the ear And musical perfection And the opera hasn't even started yet. -Sara Litchfield, St. Pius X -Albuquerque (Rating: 9.70) Read Reviews of this Poem Meditation Lapse into the soothing sound of the clarinet. Hear its comforting notes, and know all is well with the world. For you are lost in meditation. A rhythmic meditation that can take you whereever you desire. For this music is mixed with other instruments. There is the synthetic orchestra With its strings of harmony to guide you on your way. There is the boom of the piano With its basic notes alive and thrumming like a heart. There is of course the deep melodic tone of the clarinet Humming like a contented spirit, Telling you that you’re in safe hands. And then the music changes. Hear the voices, Not human voices, but sweet and ethereal not of this world. Synthetic like the orchestra, and wordless, lovely waves of sound Pass over your ears For you are not hearing, you are part of this music, within its crystalline depths, and in every pore of your body. Hear and feel the clarinet and music mix with the voices in a crescendo of sound. And then the music closes. The clarinet hums its last note The strings play themselves into silence. And the heart of the piano… Stops The song is over, And all is well. From “The Magical Elf Collection” -Bruce Pfeiffer, Onate High School (Rating: 9.60) Read Reviews of this Poem Morning Sun: Bring the Halo Winking tree light Crash of day Open sad eyes Dingy world Blankets of filmy dust Angry paint splats on the wall Look at the mess of rage Lift the doll From fire See its pain Memories of happy times Imagination takes flight Wind shares life Waves of current Take away ocean’s Blackness One single flashlight Pinhole cutout Run Never reach the end Stairs Up down up Fall Stop Turn back Crawl to the bottom Find the open valley Eat the wild flowers Sleep Calm twinkles Fireflies Bring the halo An old battle cry Calling crickets Off beat Listening to “Appalachian Spring” by Aaron Copeland -Kristin Morehead, Onate High School (Rating: 9.60) Read Reviews of this Poem untitled Crumpled newspapers lie on crumpled jazz The beautiful single female seeking man of her dreams lays drenched in her spilt latte. Let's talk, he says It's been ages I loved you so much it made me forget the crusades And she sat smiling, grateful for the lie She always did take life watered down. -Claudia, Santa Fe Preparatory School (Rating: 9.50) Read Reviews of this Poem Untitled A gentle slap, up against stone It rises and falls. A single crash along the shore On the sand and down. New ones come, larger, stronger Bigger than before. They crash, bellow, rock against the bay Enduring longer. It lulls, at last, It comes at end, But I'll hear its greeting again. The returning waves will soon be back, Opened arms, my ears will welcome them. (inspired by William Gillock's Seascape) -Ted Lim, Las Cruces High School (Rating: 9.40) Read Reviews of this Poem Moonlight Sonata Washing the quiet of the beach, Waters carry with them Remnants from the sea. Particles, Once somebody's loss, Appear on the shores, Forgotten by time, Mixed with sand and stone. Lost in the reflections Of the waves, Glass,cans,and cloth Take their place. Erased by the wind, Safely buried, Another's life is forgotten. "Moonlight Sonata" 3rd Movement Beethoven -Sofia Marquez, Onate High School (Rating: 9.40) Read Reviews of this Poem Will I Hear Him Coming? Sleep has passed reality, it hides like the moon as clouds of thought fill my room. Shine dances in my open eyes I wait anxiously for his arrival, his return. I pull the sheets up above my collarbone. I stare at the ceiling- will I hear him coming? I wrap the blankets tightly around me. My hair slips further under my pillow. Minutes creep past me, but the hour never turns. I am stuck in the lagging seconds left to stuggle in twisted sheets. Impatience drives my motion. I rush from my bed and find our prickly tower; the tree of evergreen. At its base stands the group of accessorized boxes; the milk and cookies are gone. After reading articles pertaining to the coming of Christmas, from the Sun News. -Sarah Brown, Onate High School (Rating: 9.40) Read Reviews of this Poem December 12, 1959 Cold seeps in through the rusty Buick Stabbing knives piercing the bones of the quivering children on the seats. The night is velvety black around them; somehow the the distant, burning stars seem warmer than the glowing lights of the bar. Sh can hear her Daddy's laugh inside, for he is warm, lusty, and glutted with the bitter bourbon coating his mouth. A nervous whimper from behind impales her young flesh. Even mother can't hear her feverish son cry, florid skin hot with blazing sickness as she leaves lipstick stains on a whiskey glass. Her hands brush the steering wheel, so empty without Daddy's powerful hands. Leering drunks stagger from the rowdy box, maudlin and fuzzy in the streetlights. She locks the doors, trembling as they stumble past the car. The others cry softly like falling snow, holding on to each other and curling up on the leather seats, seemingly wet with frigid air. She breathes haltingly, fury circulating through her blood. Fists curl and she wants to scream. But they will not hear her over the wavering voice on the jukebox. -Christi Stack, Las Cruces High School (Rating: 9.20) Read Reviews of this Poem the sound in your mind A rumble of nonsense The sound in my head Deep feelings combined and red Silly emotions Unclear motives, Jumping off buildings like playing a note Lying in bed and telling a joke, Adverse romance Life in the FAST-TRACK Buried in vibration In a musical meditation Constant lying And they’re constantly trying Religion and feeling Love and true meaning Balancing pain and comfort Beautiful sine waves twisted with contort This song is perfect with limited interaction and music is, the perfect distraction -Nicholas Angelo, Las Cruces High School (Rating: 9.20) Read Reviews of this Poem Magic Ease Nothing is held back as The soloist laughs into his trumpet Converting joy into boundless melody. The Room is filled recklessly by his noise. Drumsticks swing, approaching laziness Disguising years of repetition and practice Sharp contrast to the blurring fingers of the grinning pianist, Whose black and white suit matches the keys The music floats on deception As all skill is covered up by ease Only to be suddenly revealed. A magician throwing off the cape. -Loren, Santa Fe Preparatory School (Rating: 9.00) Read Reviews of this Poem epitaph to her living body once upon a time there was you written in lines i could describe the love of your eyes define the pattern of your design geometric, five side shape infinite in each breath you take pink luminous cracks purple and breaks i don't see face in game played box lets in no light love plays sin static in shade head give light today static in shade twisting away turn can't take and break folded body pray help me stay face flat move too stange for pain talking crazy he loves me needs me baby don't fade baby don't fade hidden again box lets no light in head cupped skin burn feet to belief what the hell is happening to me lifeless but light water from head you're dead wall dirt bricks feet on stone crack in tone loves and crumbles to hold folds and waits pink luminous cracks purple and breaks body pray help me stay feet uncovered through door face flat move lost inside run to dark and hide circular flow too strange for pain breath in strain turn can't take and break to flame uncontrolled it's hold and wait baby don't fade baby don't fade -mariko brown, Taos High School (Rating: 9.00) Read Reviews of this Poem untitled things are moving too fast around me and time repeats itself and time repeats itself and i repeat myself and i'm stuck in this wasteland where words never enough and i'm stuck i tumble through the valley of the shadow of life where brick walls be my trees and black smog be my clouds and the weak still kick and scream we will fight!! and we'll fight and we fight but we swing in the wrong direction the sun is in the east things are moving too fast around me time is a fully loaded 45 magnum and the trigger's not on safety the secrets of life are hidden in the tip of my pen but the secrets of the mind are hidden in the depths of wisdom and we must go deeper than the surface of paper to lay our own upon the lips of knowledge the wind blows to us from the south our shackles and that song blows from the north but we scream too loudly for help HELP US!!! and we can't hear our song so we sing old slave hymns and the secure watch us from their windows as we strugle to move in the wrong direction against their wind and they tell us run and if we gain too much momentum they trip us and we trip ourselves and we trip each other so in the end the nazis are left standing and we've condemned ourselves to holocaust and we've condemned ourselves to death by fire and we've become nazis against each other and we trip, and burn, and stab, and kill and fuck over who ever we have to we think that way we'll win our metal we think that way we'll conquer the world we think that way we won't become one of them one of us one the slaves one of the enslaved one of the ignorant we're ignorant we've become ignorant and we think we're free they give us citizenship and we think we're free they've just disguised our cotton fields as prisons and our shackles as police men instead of pushing us they tie our shoelaces together and hold us down in the mud when we've fallen on our faces the hold us down in the mud when we've fallen on our faces but we try to get up by digging in the wrong direction we strangle each other to death with that star-spangled banner and it blows in the wind and it's a symbol of freedom but our hands and feet are tied and it's a symbol of courage but we hide behind our rage and it's a symbol of rightiousness but we kill each other for wealth and it's a symbol of america and it symbolizes americans and it symbolizes us and we symbolize each other and we don't love each other and we have to love each other and we need to stop the rage and we need to stop the rage and we need to stop the rage but i can't stop the rage the rage is us the rage is we the rage is he, she, him, her, them and it stands 12 billion legs strong and it has 12 billion times the strength of any of us alone but it only has 6 billion minds it only has one half the capacity for thought that it has for destruction it only has one half the capacity for thought that it has for destruction it only has one half the capacity for thought that it has for destruction and time keeps repeating itself and i keep repeating myself and things are moving too fast around me and we're trying to catch the sun but the sun is in the east the sun is in the east THE SUN IS IN THE FUCKING EAST!............ so why do we keep marching south -zahra bilal, Taos High School (Rating: 9.00) Read Reviews of this Poem Breaking News The tall, blatant, and dark letters stood firm with the confidence of steel across the top of the smooth white newspaper. The letters spoke the bitter truth of reality and came together piercing the reader's eye: SABOTAGE, SAVAGE, SCORCH, and SPITEFUL SECRETS! The grandeur of the words darkened and broke the once white and pure newspaper. And even casted a speechless shadow on the Sunday Comics leaving Garfield's smile distorted. -Michelle Mantegna, Las Cruces High School (Rating: 8.90) Read Reviews of this Poem Untitled(Inspired by Beethoven's 9th Symphony) We will put you away You'd better start naming names The mountains are gone the planes are back Never look at it Taken away in plastic bags to factory One more and one more I am not hearing this Now everything is a headline Baked up inside crockery Grinning newscasters with sharp teeth No eyes Single lines mean everything Paragraph or poem is trash Bring me out into the sunlight That's all I ask You'll lose too in the end Strapped in streets With heavy boots around One more that gets away It doesn't happen Paranoia is a friendly thing When all is true and the walls The walls can see you Plug everyone in Mass merchandise Mass murder Mass money -Richard Harris, Las Cruces High School (Rating: 8.80) Read Reviews of this Poem Pages: 1 2 3 [>>] View the Winners | View Poems by School Webslam Home